“Got it.”
We’re both silent. “Are we going ahead with the engagement party?” I ask, chan
ging the subject.
It works. “Of course!” she exclaims. “We’re thinking next weekend, but we’ll conclude tomorrow at dinner with Brett’s parents. We’re looking forward to seeing you.”
Laurie’s dad is taking us all to dinner at his old club. The three sets of parents, Laurie, Brett and me. Another evening of trying to be cheerful and happy, when deep inside, I just want to curl up somewhere and cry. “I can’t wait,” I say brightly.
“Good.” She sighs. “Your father says hi.”
“Hi dad,” I call out.
I hear his voice in the background followed by my mom’s laughter. “See you tomorrow sweetheart,” she says, “and take care of yourself,” she adds softly.
ON Saturday evening, I join my family at the private club where we’re all having dinner, apart from Dylan, who’s in school. Brett arrives with Laurie, and his parent’s join us a few minutes later. Hugs and kisses are exchanged all around, and dinner is served at the large table we reserved while the parents bond, talking wedding plans, retirement, and then wedding plans again.
After dinner, Brett and Laurie get up to dance to a slow song the band is playing. I watch them from the table, happy for them, and yet, envious of their happiness.
“You look like you need a break,” my mom remarks, leaning toward me. Her remarkably youthful face is only marred by her expression of concern. “Have you been working too hard? You should come home and rest a little.”
I shake my head, wondering how much of my misery is evident on my face. “I’m fine, mom.”
“No, you’re not,” she whispers. “I’m your mother, and I have eyes. I can see that you’re not fine.”
I paste a bright, fake smile on my face and give her a pointed look. “Do I look miserable? Mom I’m perfectly happy.”
She looks at my dad for help, a sign that they’ve shared their concern about me. I take a frustrated breath and close my eyes, hating the fact that they’re worried enough about me for it to be an issue they’ve discussed. My dad gets up and comes over to take my hand. “Come on,” he says. “Humor your old man with a dance.”
“Your mother’s just worried about you,” he tells me, when we join Laurie and Brett on the floor.
“I know,” I reply. “I’m not mad. It’s just… I’m fine, really.”
He nods, buying the lie, or at least pretending to. “Well then, let’s give your cousin and her fiancé a run for their money.” He signals to the band and they change the music to a livelier number, and somehow, for the rest of the evening, I’m able to let go of my pain and actually enjoy myself.
THE final consensus is that there’s going to be an engagement party on the coming weekend. We’re home on Sunday evening when Laurie receives the news while on the phone with her mother.
“What does an engagement party even mean?” She grumbles, pretending to be pissed, though I can clearly see that she’s enjoying all the attention. We’re eating chips from a bag, passing it back and forth while we watch a bunch of hot-ish guys talk about how excited they all are to be vying for one ‘lucky’ woman’s love.
“Usually it means parents want any excuse for a party,” I tell her, laughing. “But this time, it makes sense to have one. There’s bound to be a couple of people who won’t be able to make it to Barbados for the wedding.”
Laurie makes a face, then spends a long moment admiring the stunning yellow diamond on her finger. Brett had quickly remedied the absence of a ring during his proposal, and Laurie was in love with the spectacular ring he’d bought her. “Do you think it’s silly, going all the way to Barbados to get married when we could just go to Vegas and get done with it?”
“Of course not! Your Nana would never forgive you if you pulled a Vegas stunt. Neither would your mom or mine for that matter.” I shake my head, imagining the catastrophe that would result if she did something like that. “At least, nobody’s asking you to be part of the preparations for the engagement party. They’re probably having a swell time planning it.”
“I know.” She sighs and reaches for the bag of chips. I hand it to her, my eyes going back to the TV. One of the guys is earnestly telling the camera why he thinks he’s the right one for the woman in question. I roll my eyes at the ridiculousness.
“He still hasn’t called at all?” Laurie’s voice is soft.
I shake my head without looking at her. It’s been a week and one day now. “I don’t think…” I pause, willing myself to say the words without falling to pieces. “I don’t think he’s going to call again.”
Laurie is quiet. “I’m so sorry,” she says finally. “I thought… I really thought that if you told him how you felt…”
Frowning, I turn to face her. “It’s not your fault. You were exactly right. I had to tell him and I’m glad I did. Imagine if I hadn’t. I’d still be hanging on to him, losing a bit of myself every day. If I’d left him without letting him know that I was in love with him, then I’d be torturing myself with the questions, possibilities, and regrets, wondering if telling him would have made a difference.” I shrug. “Now I know for sure that the only way he wants me is if there’s no deep commitment.”
“It’s his loss,” Laurie declares, her voice defiant. “I was convinced that he had enough sense to have fallen in love with you, but if he can’t see what you’re worth then he doesn’t deserve you. You are beautiful, clever, funny, and all-round awesome. Landon Court has no idea what he’s lost.”
I only smile in reply. I’m grateful for her support, but somehow, it’s much better when I don’t talk about Landon at all. I think about him. I miss him. Sometimes, I allow myself to remember how it felt to be happy, in those blissful moments when I was actually happy with him. I will always have those moments to draw on, those memories to treasure, and there’s some sort of consolation that comes from that.