Page 45 of Fathers of the Bride
“That’s so nice of you,” Kelly said. “But I don’t want to humiliate them. They have their pride.”
“You’re such a sweet girl to give up your dream wedding for your dads,” Lissa said.
“It’s not a big sacrifice. They’ve done so much for me.”
“You mean, adopting you and saving you from a life of abject poverty?” Pudge suggested.
“I mean, they’ve been really good parents.”
“That too, of course.” She took a breath and forged on. “I don’t want to be unkind. But your father’s not going to turn the wedding into one of those craft segments he used to do on his show, is he?”
“Oh God,” Lissa said. “I remember the time he made these centerpieces for a reception out of old jam jars, sand, glitter and twigs. He’s not going to do anything like that, is he?”
I remembered those centerpieces, I thought they were quite darling. I don’t know why anyone would talk against them.
“I think I saw an episode where he made place cards out of toilet paper rolls,” Pudge added.
I nearly squeaked. I’d made no such thing. I had shown my audience how to make tissue paper transfers so they could label just about anything to seat their guests. I’m sure I demonstrated how to transfer names onto redwood napkin rings. I thought they were quite classy in the end.
“I promise there will be no toilet rolls,” Kelly said. She, at least, has some faith in me.
“Everything will be fine, Mom. I’m sure whatever Miles does will be really, really nice,” Avery said. Okay, I was liking this boy more and more. “We’re going to say good-bye now. We’ll see you in a few days.”
Oh God, I needed to get back downstairs quickly. They couldn’t come out of Kelly’s room and find me eavesdropping in the hallway. I heard the laptop shut and turned to scurry down the stairs. Unfortunately, I slipped on the third step. Fortunately, I had my hand on the railing. I fell forward, twisted around and ended up hanging there with my feet several steps above me. Everything clattered out of my pockets.
I held my breath. Had they heard that? Were they about to come running? I heard Kelly say, “They’re a little smothering.”
“They mean well.”
“Avery, we left them yesterday. Why did they have to call at all?”
As quietly as possible, I pulled myself up the railing until I was almost standing again.
“They’re just excited,” Avery said, seeming louder. “Married life isn’t going to be like this. If it is, I promise I’ll make them leave us alone.”
Oh God, they were leaving the bedroom, getting closer. There wasn’t time for me to turn and run down the stairs. They were going to find me there. And then—
“Daddy, what are you doing?”
“I can’t find my phone,” I quickly improvised. I was always losing the damn thing after all.
“It’s right there at the bottom of the stairs,” Avery pointed out, helpfully.
“Oh my, you’re right. I wonder how it got there,” I said, bouncing down the steps and snatching up my phone.
While my daughter eyed me suspiciously, Avery said, “My tenant said we could pop in and see the condo. I want Kelly to see it so we can start thinking about—hey, you should come with us. Kelly loves your taste—we love your taste.”
I brushed him off saying, “I have a million things to do,” though I knew I only had one thing to do. My daughter gave me a kiss on the cheek and the kids left the house. Peeking out the window, I waited until the Volvo was out of sight, and then I clicked on my cellphone and picked out Andy’s name—well, all right, I picked out the name Dickwad, which was my post-separation nickname for my husband—and pressed it.
When he answered, I said, “I found out why Kelly’s so blah about the wedding.”
“You did?”
“She really wants a big wedding. I just overheard her saying so to Pudge and Lissa.”
“Pudge and Lissa are at the house?”
“No. Facetime. Zoom. Whatever.”
