Chapter 6 The Dinner
Chapter6 The Dinner
The Mother of the Groom
Abigail thought she had prepared herself for Alexa Diamandis. For the last two weeks, ever since the engagement, she’d been
scouring the internet searching for photos and articles and mentions of Penny’s mother. And there was a treasure trove of
information on her future in-law. Alexa was a business owner, after all, and an active citizen of Montecito, land of a thousand
charity events. Plus, her job was to take people on vacation, so she ended up tagged in scores of photos of tanned, happy
people beachside in Mykonos or at historical sites in Sicily. Abigail knew that she was striking but not beautiful, tall-ish,
and had one go-to smile for every picture captured of her. She had practically memorized Alexa’s bio on the Odyssey Vacations
site, so she knew, too, all about her idyllic childhood on Patmos, her uni days in London, her Hollywood decade, and her glamorous
career in luxury travel.
Alexa was one of those women who had aged in place, meaning that Abigail could still see the eighties undergrad and the focused career gal and the bold single mom in her sixty-something face. Some people disappeared into their later years’ appearance, no trace of their young days left, thanks to injectables and surgery. But not Alexa. She was all she had been.
Abigail was ready to be warm, curious, and generous with her new relative, treating her like you might a visiting minor royalty
who didn’t quite understand the language. Abigail, after all, was well educated in all things, but especially tact. Despite
her world travels, Alexa was the guest and might feel out of sorts here on the Upper East Side in the small private dining
room of the charming neighborhood Italian place. Abigail, on the other hand, felt right at home, even though she hadn’t lived
in this zip code since the nineties. It was Chase’s home now. Still, she’d go out of her way to make the mother of the bride
feel comfortable.
Just then the curtain blew open and in stepped Alexa Diamandis.
Abigail was not prepared to be so intimidated. Alexa did, in fact, carry herself like royalty. She was statuesque, not slender,
but her height allowed her to carry the extra weight. Her long black hair, swept up in an elegant bun, was gently streaked
with silver and set off her gray eyes. She was a well-preserved sixtyish woman whose skin looked like it had been dipped in
olive oil and then polished to a sheen. And she was wearing a long, flowing white silk dress splashed with a bright blue abstract
print and shaped by a gold belt. She looked like she was going to a much better event after dinner and it was probably on
a yacht.
And the fact that she arrived alone made her entrance more legendary.
After she greeted Penny and Chase and then George, she made her way around the table to Abigail, freshly bobbed and highlighted
in her tailored navy-blue Tahari dress that she’d picked up at a very good resale shop in Darien. Alexa did the double kiss,
which Abigail was sure was meant to throw her off, and whispered in her ear, “We are family now.”
She smelled like lemons and sunshine and Abigail knew in that moment that everything she had fantasized about the wedding would never come to pass. It would not be at her house in Connecticut with an all-white tablescape featuring hydrangea and rose centerpieces. It would not feature fun New England–y fare like clam chowder bowls and a rowboat full of local beer. She would not be the second-most-striking woman at the wedding, next to Penny, of course. And there would not be a stunning feature of the classic Connecticut event in Aunt B’s column. With one double kiss of Alexa’s lips, Abigail knew that she would do exactly what everyone at the senior center advised her to do as the mother of the groom: wear beige and shut up. “Yes, we are family.”
***
A cacophony of small talk, laughter, toasts, and dinner orders followed the initial greetings. Questions were asked with inconsequential
answers, like how was your flight and how often do you get to New York City. Abigail was having a hard time finding her voice,
but George was skilled at these sorts of interactions. There was a reason that he’d kept his job for years, despite the underwhelming
results for his clients: his broad but shallow knowledge of all sorts of topics and his erudite cultural references. It was
clear that both sides of the table had done their homework. Alexa asked about Sarah and retirement and bridge. But all the
chitchat was a warm-up before the main event. Chase had promised that the wedding plan would be revealed at the dinner.
In the gap between the first course and the three pastas that Chase had ordered for all of them to share, Abigail gave her
son a look that she hoped registered as “It’s time.” He took the hint and his fiancée’s hand. Abigail had to concede that
Penny looked lovely in the creamy white dress she’d chosen, as the new rule seemed to be that brides wear white to any wedding-adjacent
festivities. She didn’t need the resort-wear flash her mother brought to the party to draw attention to herself, Abigail thought.
“We wanted to fill you all in on a few decisions that we’ve made with regards to our future,” Chase announced. He looked so
handsome, Abigail thought, filled with pride in her part of his good looks. He certainly got the best parts of George and me , she thought. Not like poor Sarah, who seemed to have received most of the worst. Like her father’s cankles.
Penny jumped in right where Chase left off, akin to a scripted presentation or a sign of their single-mindedness. “First,
let us say that it’s truly special to have you all here at our favorite restaurant and we’re looking forward to the engagement
party. Thank you for hosting on Sunday, Abigail and George.” The use of their first names was jarring to Abigail, but she
smiled to cover the wincing. “We know this is the first of many blended-family events. It’s really something to see our parents
in the same room. It feels real now!” Penny had been the president of her sorority at SMU and she still carried that smooth,
singsong delivery of a young woman in charge. The two of them were quite a pair.
The plates of carbonara, cacio e pepe, and arrabbiata arrived and, without losing a beat, Chase served the five of them a sampling of each while speaking. It was like he’d been interning with a big Italian family on the weekends. “We have a few announcements here, so if you can hold your questions until the end, as we say in the press room, that would be appreciated. First, our plan is to be married rather quickly and here’s why. And no, you don’t need a shotgun, Alexa.” There was genuine laughter from George, and fake laughter from the MOG and the MOB. “As you know, my current job ends later this year as Mayor Lynch terms out. And at his encouragement, and the encouragement of others, I’ve been asked to consider running for Congress. There’s a district in Queens—Astoria—where an incumbent will be retiring at the end of his term in eighteen months, and the mayor thinks I’m a great fit. Yes, Queens. Big Greek population. I’ll be running as an Independent, like the mayor. I’ll have the full backing of Mayor Lynch and continue to work for him in some capacity even after he leaves office, so I can pay the bills and do my due diligence at the same time. And yes, I will be moving there to establish residency and get to know the place—and Penny will join me in Queens as soon as we’re married. Now, Penny, I think this is your department.”
Penny turned to Alexa. “Mom, we’d like to be married in Montecito around New Year’s Eve. We know getting married on New Year’s
Eve would be too expensive, so the Friday night before is the date we’d like. Not a huge wedding, but a special wedding. I
can’t wait to plan it with you. I know you don’t do client trips over the holidays anymore, so I thought it would be good,
timing-wise. And I get that the family might not be able to come from Athens and Patmos, so we’ll spend our honeymoon in Greece
next summer and celebrate with them then. I can show Chase my other home.”
Abigail’s head started to swim. Did Penny just say she was not planning on inviting the Diamandis family to the wedding? Would
her family be cut out, too, because Connecticut was too far away from California? As she was considering how she would tell
her one remaining aunt and her three cousins that they wouldn’t be invited to a wedding that was sure to get press coverage,
the announcement continued.
The words of the happy couple started to come out at a rapid pace and made less and less sense to her. Squeeze in the wedding
before the campaign starts in earnest. Only have one bridesmaid, which will be impossible because she has already been in
seven weddings and feelings would be hurt. Rent a house in Astoria that could also be the campaign headquarters. Rent an estate
in Montecito for the family and the reception. Mediterranean mezzes and lemon cake. Leaning toward a beach picnic for the
rehearsal dinner. Maybe the mayor can marry us. Certainly, the mayor will endorse him. All the guests in shades of blue. The
mothers need to coordinate dresses. Their friend Ree, the graphic artist, is going to design the campaign logo and the wedding
logo. Wait, weddings have logos?
For the couple who two weeks ago claimed they hadn’t made any plans, they certainly seemed to have made all the plans now. Abigail guessed they were hiding something.
Penny looked pleased as punch. “We appreciate your support so much. On such a quick timeline, we’re going to need all your
help.”
“What do you think?” Chase asked with excitement in his voice.
Abigail was stunned. She looked at her counterpart and, much to her surprise, the mother of the bride also seemed shell-shocked.
This pleased her. Abigail could only squeak out one question: “Queens?”