asked your father to make it for me.”
“Well,
I’m in favor. Can I taste-test?” she asked, reaching for a glass. Too late, she
realized that she hadn’t moved her ring back over to her right hand. And
eagle-eyed Gran was looking right at it.
“Emma?”
“Yes,
Granny?”
“Don’t
call me Granny. You know I hate it. And don’t try to distract me. Is that a
ring on your finger?”
Emma
sighed. “Why yes, Grandmother. It is.”
“Don’t
‘Grandmother’ me either. Why is there a ring on your finger?”
“Because
you’re always hounding me to put one there?”
“Do
not tease your Gran,” she rebutted. “I’m too old and I may drop dead at any
moment. Tell me why you have a ring. Have you met a gentleman?”
Looking
over at her father, she realized that he was also staring at the ring. And for
the love of God, so was her mother. All three of them, silent as clams, just
staring at her finger.
“Mom.
Dad. Dearly beloved Gran... I’m afraid that I’ve got some news.”
Silence.
“Oh
for God’s sake. I’m married. There. It’s out. He’s a nice young man, we’ll be
very happy together, etc. etc. etc.”
To
Emma’s surprise, all three of them burst out laughing.
“Ha!”
her father said with delight. “Nice try, Em. Next time, leave your dog home
with your ‘husband’ - it will be more realistic.”
“Oh
Em. Don’t let your Grandmother make you too crazy about marriage. It will come.
And she only hounds you because she loves you, you know,” her mom added.
Only
her grandmother looked partially skeptical. “Let me see the ring,” she
demanded. When Emma raised her hand in front of her face, the confusion cleared
up. “Oh that’s just a band. Not even a diamond. Next time, at least get a cubic
zirconia ring. It will look more real.”
Emma
just looked at her family members in disbelief. She had managed to get the news
out in a backhanded way, and nobody believed her. This was just... well... Oh
hell , she thought. Now what? Did she sit here, the night before her flight
to California, arguing her parents into believing that she’d married a man they
had never met? Or did she go home, pack, get herself on a plane in the morning,
and deal with this when she got back?
“Well,
thanks for watching Chaos! I’d better get going. Lots of packing to do,” she
said, a little too brightly. “See you next weekend!”
Out
the door in two minutes flat, after a quick kiss to each of her beloved family
members and a scritch to Chaos (along with an admonition to be very good), she
was back in her car, breathing heavily and nearly sobbing. Not sure if it was
with relief or frustration, Emma turned her car toward home. What a day, she
thought. What a long and absolutely insane day. She was feeling deep relief
that she was hopping on a plane in the morning. She would deal with Mom and Dad
and Gran Jameson soon enough.
San
Diego was warm. It was sunny. It was one of the easiest trips that Emma had
made in a while, since most of what she needed to do was pro forma. She ate
good food, enjoyed some good company, and almost managed to forget that she had
gotten married in a whirlwind ceremony the day before. Almost. The ring on her
finger reminded her. She had moved it to her right hand again, but every glance
at it caused her thoughts to head straight back east to Mason Parker, his huge
mansion, and her family’s likely reaction to the news. By the time Wednesday
rolled around, Emma was toying with the idea of missing her flight and staying
in California for a while, but she missed Chaos. And she knew that her dog
would be about twenty pounds overweight by the end of the week if she stayed
away longer. Her father was notoriously bad about slipping Chaos table scraps,
and Gran just consistently dropped stuff when she was over visiting her son and
daughter-in-law.
Sighing,
she boarded the plane and settled into her seat, thanking God and all his
angels for an aisle seat close to the front
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