Chapter 7 The Dinner
Chapter7 The Dinner
The Mother of the Bride
“Queens?” Alexa gasped at the same time as Abigail. The whole thing was so unexpected. Her Penny had gone and planned her
whole life without consulting her. How could that have happened? In the past, they had talked about everything. Even in the
last two weeks, they’d talked every day, mainly about Penny’s crushing work schedule, thanks to a demanding client and a new
project. But Alexa had believed her when she said that they hadn’t started the wedding planning. Now, boom. This. A lifetime
of decisions laid bare between the pasta course and the main. And she was hearing them all for the first time, like she was
an outsider. Like she was an in-law!
Sure, she was invited in now to help with the tedious decisions, like reception venue, but the big decisions, like spouse and house, were already made. She couldn’t wrap her head around the idea that Penny would be living in New York, never mind Queens near the airport. The airport! From the California Riviera to the shadow of LaGuardia. And if Chase won his election, he could be in Congress for decades. They might move to DC, the dowdiest city in the country, awash in women in navy-blue suits with below-the-knee skirts. She’d never come back to California. To Montecito. What had Alexa done wrong?
As Chase was explaining that there were some cool parts of Astoria and it was closer to Midtown than people thought, Alexa
searched her Penny’s face for some sign that this was all conjecture and that when the two of them, mother and daughter, got
a moment alone, they would make the real plans together like they always had. But Penny gazed at Chase as if he were going
to save the world, but first, he was going to save her.
This was all Alexa’s fault.
She never should have let Penny wear all that pink and be a cheerleader in high school instead of on the debate team. When
she picked college in Dallas instead of Berkeley, Alexa kept her mouth shut. She joined that sorority and Alexa played along,
flying in for endless events that made no sense to Alexa, mother-daughter this and mother-daughter that. Alexa, motherless
since fifteen and not used to American-style education, was shocked at the outlay of money and effort that went into activities
unrelated to academics. Penny, on the other hand, seemed to genuinely embrace the Kappa lifestyle.
Then there was the move to New York after graduation. Alexa could see now that was a mistake. Too much freedom and independent
choice. She should have made Alexa intern at Odyssey for at least two years before agreeing to supplement her rent on the
Upper East Side. She never thought Penny would love New York. Or meet a man up to her standards. And she never thought she’d
move to Queens.
Every Greek immigrant in America knew Astoria, Queens, of course. It was the first stop in the country for thousands of immigrants from her homeland and many put down new roots there and never left. Alexa had made a conscious decision not to move to Astoria, a place where the old-school values still ran deep. She had wanted a fresh start in California. Now it felt like her daughter was rejecting her unconventional upbringing. She was moving to Queens but not inviting her Greek family to the wedding? That would go over well with the Diamandis clan in Athens!
Penny interrupted her thoughts. “Mom, we’ll have all day tomorrow to go over everything. I know we’ll need to talk budget.
I understand,” she said, as if her mother were a small child instead of the woman who had raised her all on her own and paid
her college tuition in cash because that’s how much she loved her.
Alexa was trying hard to keep a smile on her face when George piped up. “Count the Blakemans in for the rehearsal dinner.
And, if you need a tent for the big day, we’ll cover that. Won’t we, Abby girl?”
Alexa caught the sudden flash of rage on Abigail Blakeman’s soft, lined face. Her simple ash-blond bob was still in place.
Her soft pink lipstick had been reapplied somewhere between the artichoke carpaccio and two bites of the cacio e pepe she
allowed herself. But her décolletage was streaked an angry red, visible thanks to the split neckline of her sheath dress,
a tasteful, if uninspired, choice that Alexa had seen on dozens of women at home. Alexa didn’t know exactly what Chase’s mother
was angry about, but she knew repressed fury when she saw it. Alexa was holding her tongue out of pride and good manners.
Abigail was stuffing her feelings out of habit. That was something to remember, Alexa thought.
There was a slight nod from Abigail. “Of course we will. Our pleasure.”
Just then the servers swept in and cleared the table. The head server, using quite possibly a fake Italian accent, announced,
“It’s now time for your entrées. And then, we celebrate the beautiful couple with cake. Enjoy.”
Alexa didn’t know how she was going to make it through two more courses.
***
They parted on the sidewalk outside the restaurant on Seventy-Eighth Street and Second Avenue. The Blakemans hustled into
a cab and headed to Grand Central to catch the ten forty train home. Alexa wanted to walk a bit but didn’t want the young
couple to feel beholden to walk her back the ten or so blocks to the Lowell Hotel, where she was staying thanks to a professional
courtesy rate. She pretended to order a rideshare and assured them that she would wait near the valet for safety. “You’re
tired. No need to wait with me.”
As soon as they were out of sight on the way back to Penny’s place nearby, she’d make her way back to the hotel on her own.
She needed to walk off her emotions.
But Penny had more surprises. “So, now that Abigail is gone, I wanted to tell you that Kalliope Moon is in town doing a trunk
show in SoHo. As soon as I saw it posted, I called Sofia at the boutique in Athens. You know, the saleswoman who helped us
last when we did that trip with Westmont alumnae. Those women bought the boutique out. She told me there will be four wedding
dresses at the trunk show. She wouldn’t send me photos because she said I had to see them in person. They agreed to hold them
for me in exchange for some social media posts on my personal accounts. But only until noon. It could be chaos at the sale.
I thought we could start the day at your hotel for coffee and be at the shop by eleven. Can you imagine, a Kalliope Moon wedding
dress? I didn’t think I’d even have the option on such a short timeline. It would be my dream.”
“Just you and me?”
“Yes. That’s why I waited until Abigail left,” Penny whispered, as if someone nearby were wearing a wire and might inform her future mother-in-law of the slight. Not that it was officially a slight in terms of proper wedding etiquette, but so many of her friends had included the mother of the groom in the dress-shopping experience that she felt a bit selfish for wanting it to be special for the two of them, mother and bride. She hid behind her groom, who knew nothing about dress shopping. “I feel kind of bad not including her, but Chase said she wouldn’t mind. Right, Chase?”
He nodded, oblivious to any devastation his permission would cause.
So was Alexa. She was happy to be included, but it wasn’t anything she expected. Alexa had watched the dress-buying shows
on TV when she was at the hair salon and couldn’t believe the nonsense she witnessed as groups of friends and relatives, in
sashes and drinking champagne, challenged the bride on her choices. Nobody needed ten people in a dressing room badgering
the bride about her weight or her taste. At least Penny had retained enough judgment to know that.
As for Abigail, she rationalized to herself, but not out loud: Chase’s mother has Sarah. That’s her chance to go wedding dress shopping. “A Kalliope Moon dress would be a dream.” An expensive dream.
It was already starting, the expense creep. As soon as the words “wedding” and “dream” were said in the same sentence, the
budget blew up another 25 percent. A budget they hadn’t even established yet. “I think you’ll look stunning in anything. But
I love that you want a Greek designer. Classic but modern. And, of course, our heritage.”
“Thanks, Mom. I’ll see you in the lobby around nine. Is that too early?”
Penny understood the first morning on East Coast time could be tough for Californians. “Let’s say nine fifteen. I won’t be
late.” She smiled at her daughter and then turned to her future son-in-law. “Thank you for dinner. It was delicious and eventful.
Sleep well.” She glanced at her phone screen to sell the lie. “Four more minutes. Off you go. I’ll be fine.”