“Oh it’s no one, Mum. Nothing to bother yourself with.” I slide my phone back into my pocket. and dip my shoulder intentionally, so her hand slips back to the table.
There’s roughly forty people here, both from our side of the family and Daniel’s, scattered across ten tables in the ironicallynamed Winter Garden restaurant. Everyone is smartly dressed in cocktail dresses or button-down shirts and trousers. Daniel’s family is much more reserved than ours. They mostly stay at their tables, while our family drifts from one to another. Aunt Brenda almost knocks over a waiter when she ricochets off one of the palm trees.
“Will you have a word with your sister? She’s doing herself no favors eating that cheesecake the night before her wedding.” My mum says this loudly and without a trace of irony as she sticks her fork into the cheesecake in front of her.
Other family members turn around to see what the commotion is.
“Leave her alone, Mum. It’s her wedding, not yours. She can do what she wants,” I say, lowering my voice, but it falls on deaf ears.
“At this rate she won’t fit into her dress.” Her voice rises as she takes another bite.
My mum was never going to win Mother of the Year award, but this running commentary is completely uncalled for.
“That’s rich, coming from the hungry hippo herself.”
My mum drops her fork on the plate and turns, slapping me across the face.
“How dare you!” Her face is so tense, I half expect her jaw to shatter from sheer rage.
The sting across my cheek is nothing compared to the sheer embarrassment of everyone in the restaurant now looking at our table. Kelly quickly gets up from her seat and marches over to us. She glares at me like I’ve just told her there’s no Wi-Fi.
“A word,” she says, grabbing my arm and pulling me over to one of the alcoves, past the baby grand piano. The guy sitting at it continues to hammer out the chords to Rascal Flatt’sWhat Hurts The Most.
A lump forms in my throat.
I don’t know what hurts more, my cheek, or my heart for having that woman for a mother.
“Can you not keep it cordial for one night?” Kelly flicks her hair behind her ear.
“I tried.” I cross my arms over my chest.
“Well try harder,” she says, poking me with her finger.
“I was defending you!” I bat her finger away. “She was telling me that I need to stop you from eating. That you won’t fit into your dress.”
Kelly swallows hard, takes a deep breath, and sighs.
“Thank you,” she says, allowing her stance to soften. “Look, we just need to get through the next twenty-four hours. If we can keep her away from the alcohol and bite our tongues, everything will be okay.”
“Alright,” I say, sighing as I hear the clinking sound of a glass coming from the restaurant.
My deepest fear is realized when I crane my neck around and notice my mum standing up, trying to get everyone’s attention.
Great.
Another scene ready to unfold.
Kelly holds her fingers to her head and pulls the trigger, making us both laugh as we make our way back to our tables.
“Everyone, a moment please,” my mum commands.
I want to hide behind the palm tree. I don’t want to be exposed to whatever’s coming next, but I just need to keep calm and pray she doesn’t do something too embarrassing.
“As you all know, Kelly’s father isn’t here to celebrate with us tomorrow. And given it isn’t the custom for the mother of the bride to speak at the wedding,” she casts a sideward glance at me, “I thought I would give a toast this evening to Kelly and Daniel. Where is she?”
My mum scans the room for Kelly, her hand shading her eyes.
“I’m here, Mum.” Kelly waves her hand like a windscreen wiper as she returns to her seat.
