Bride-to-be. That’s a new one. “Doing good,” I reply.
“I’ve contacted a few vendors,” she says. At my blank stare, she clarifies, “For the wedding.”
I should’ve known she’d already be on top of this. As an event planner, Julie has all the hookups for flowers, venues, cakes—you name it, she’s got it covered. She’s every inch the classic wedding planner, with her blonde hair always up in a French twist, makeup perfectly done, and poised posture.
But even though I would have expected her to jump on the wedding prep, something about the reality of this, where Julie is actually making plans for a real, live wedding, sits weird with me.
“Whenever you want to start talking about it, I’m ready,” she says with a big grin.
“Oh, yeah, for sure,” I stammer. My right-hand fingers find my engagement ring and start twisting it around. “I’ll be able to do that in a bit. Work is just extra crazy right now, so I’m super busy.”
“I’m sure you are.” She beams at me. “You’re so diligent.”
“Thank you.”
She looks over at Zach, who’s dipping a Ruffles chip in the French onion dip, and sighs. “One day, this one will figure it out, too.”
“Hey.” He shoves the chip in his mouth and chews for a few moments. “I’m working hard on my app. You’ll see.”
I let go of my ring and rub his shoulder. “I know.”
But…do I? Is this app actually going to be useful? I think most people can find parking spots on the street without an app.
It’s been hard being the supportive girlfriend for years to these harebrained ideas when I’ve put in the hours, done the hard things, and carved my own path to being a math professor. Sure, I had my parents’ support, but so does Zach. The fact that he hasn’t made anything work and still lives with his parents can be a little discouraging sometimes.
Well, it’ll be nice to have him working from home, right? He can work on laundry and cook and do dishes…
All things he doesn’t exactly know how to do now, because his mom does them…
I press my lips together. Where are these thoughts coming from? I’ve known these things about Zach my entire life, and they didn’t bother me before. We’re supposed to be together. This is everything our parents have dreamed of for years.Pull it together, Claire.Change the subject to something other than your future.
“I talked to Annie today,” I blurt out.
Mom’s eyebrows rise. “Oh? What did she have to say?”
Well, that was stupid. I should’ve known better than to bring up Annie. My thirty-year-old sister is my parents’ eternal disappointment.
It’s odd to say that a successful artist is a disappointment to her parents, but she is. I guess that’s what happens when a family of math professors cannot compute the fact that their daughter just doesn’t like math. They haven’t spoken to her in years, but I reached out a few years ago and have been enjoying our rekindled relationship.
I think that makes it clear why I can’t talk to my family about my own creative endeavors, like the YA dystopian book I’ve been secretly writing for the last year. Annie kind of burned that bridge for both of us. Anything that’s not math-focused isn’t worth our time and energy.
But I started down this path, so I need to say something to my mom. “She wanted to congratulate me on the engagement,” I finally say. That’s…not exactly true. Here’s how the conversation actually went:
“So…you’re engaged?”
“Yes!”
“And…you’re happy about this?”
“Of course! Why wouldn’t I be?”
Silence. “No reason. Love you, sis.”
“Love you, too.”
That was pretty much it.
Even though we’re in contact, our conversations these days aren’t super lengthy. We’re not an emotional family, although Annie always had a sensitive side that seemed to irritate my parents. Meanwhile, my parents and I keep our feelings inside.
