51. A Confusing Evening
A Confusing Evening
BETTY
“Are we just going to… have dinner?” Mary whispered as we took our seats at the mile-long table in the family dining room.
“Well, yes,” I said. “Unless you already ate? But I know you didn’t—”
“No, I did not.”
“Betty, you’re the birthday girl, so what are we drinking?” Uncle Olav called. “You do the honors.”
I looked over, “Oh… uh… I’d like to let Mary choose. She’s the one who won something and she’s our guest.”
Mary went deer in the headlights. “No. I couldn’t. It’s your birthday, Betty.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine, everyone put me on the spot. Let’s do champagne.”
My Uncle ordered up enough bottles from the cellar to suit, and we banged on with our first course.
“I feel so ridiculous,” Mary said.
“Why?”
“Because I’m in a palace—”
“It’s not a palace. It’s a house.”
She gave me an incredulous look. “It’s not my usual beat, okay? And… I’m sitting here sweaty in a bustier and pants. I look ridiculous compared to your family.”
“I’m in an evening gown. We can both look fabulous together.”
She didn’t buy it, but smiled slightly while sipping her newly poured champagne. “They are nothing if not efficient.”
“It’s like magic. You’ll get used to it.”
“I will have to… take your word for it,” Mary said, still uneasy.
“I am sorry. I know it’s like—”
She patted my knee under the table. “Sorry. I am a little off-kilter, but let me be clear, I love you and I will adjust. Your family are lovely. I’m not bolting.”
I grinned. “Tell me if something bothers you. And ask me questions. There aren’t any dumb ones.”
“I can assure you, there are dumb questions.”
I rolled my eyes. “You know what I mean, Mary.”
Uncle Olav interrupted our thoughts. “I’d like to raise a toast to Betty, who is a year older today, and perhaps a bit wiser?”
“Definitely not,” Nate said.
I leaned to smack him playfully.
“Betty, it was a wild day, one I don’t know quite how to summarize, but your aunt and I are proud of the woman you’ve become.
You’ve taken on a leadership role in your equestrian realm while supporting your cousin and me gracefully.
I know you’ll roll your eyes and say it’s nothing, but it is more than nothing.
So, to Betty, may your thirtieth year be the best on record—so far, anyway. ”
Everyone raised their glasses in a way that mortified me.
Mary did the predictable thing, “Skol!” Then, she realized we weren’t done yet.
“There is a tradition,” Uncle Olav said. “Where we go around the table and say something kind about the birthday girl or boy. So, we toast after each person, but you’re welcome to drink in the interim as it is a joyous day.”
Mary flushed bright red.
I shoulder bumped her playfully. “You’re fine. It’s cringe but we do it because it’s tradition.”
“It’s cute,” Mary agreed.
They began with Pappa, “Betty, we adore you for who you are—your boldness most of all. We wish you many more years of not listening to a single thing we say. Skol!”
Mamma spoke next, “Elisabeth, you’re every bit your grandmother’s daughter with all her determination and heart. She’d be proud of you as your namesake, but also even more proud of you for finally saying who you are—”
“Oh my fucking god, Mamma, I will die here,” I groaned. “Me being bi doesn’t define me. Yes, it’s part of me I didn’t shout from the rooftops, but like… can we please assume I am the same person… just queer?”
“Why?” Mamma demanded. “It’s a new part of you. That’s all I’m saying,” Mamma said. “And it’s important to be yourself, sweetheart.”
Cici said, “If I can give unsolicited straight advice, Bets, it does matter. In the last year you’ve taken on so much and grown—not just because you found someone wonderful.”
“I haven’t grown.” I blushed.
“You have. You became the leader of the equestrian team because I retired. You took up UniVox and engagements despite your insane schedule—”
“And carried on a secret relationship with a rockstar,” Nate added.
I glared.
“Yes. But it’s all growth. And you being you and advocating for yourself—and for Mary—is proof you are finding your voice.
That’s beautiful. So, to us, it does matter, but it’s only a part of the puzzle.
” Cici paused, then looked around, “But be mindful family, because if we say too much, she’ll turtle. ”
I blushed and resisted that urge. It was a compliment and hadn’t occurred to me how much I had taken on in the process.
Keir said, “Well, I’m just glad you told us, as Mary seems like a good person and very talented. And at least she cares about you rather than breaks up with you at a christening.”
“Oh my God, please don’t bring him into this moment,” I groaned. “We know Hank has you all still angry but—”
“Look, we all make poor choices, but Hank pushed her to accept my apology for being weird after I found out who she was,” Mary said. “He did one thing right.”
“It couldn’t have been that bad,” Aunt Kiersten said. “You look plenty happy.”
“She was cross,” Mary agreed. “And, I don’t blame her. I was sort of an ass. Instead of being an adult and talking to her, I got in my feels, and then realized I genuinely regretted it.”
I smiled. “And she groveled, which helped.”
“I did, which I don’t regret. But I’m sorry I did it at all. I just… I figured this very dinner would never happen.”
I squeezed her knee. “And yet? We’re here.”
“Through a wild maze of crazy, yes,” Mary sighed.
“But the song? Are we going to talk about the song?” Ingrid asked. “Because I don’t think anyone has ever written a song about me before.”
“No,” my brothers answered in unison.
“What song?” Pappa asked.
“Nope. We’re not going there, Far,” I said as Mary turned beet red.
“It’s actually two songs, not one,” Ingrid added. “Because I have thought about the timeline and Wayside is on there, too.”
“It’s more than two,” Mary winced. “And she doesn’t even know about the other two. One… I will not get into. The other… I wrote it for you.”
My jaw dropped. “Elskling, you wrote me a song?”
“Of course,” Mary shifted in her chair and looked down. “It’s no big deal.”
“Of course? Mary, no one has ever written a song about me before. And why didn’t you say?”
“Because it’s sort of embarrassing.”
“But she watches your sets,” Ingrid said. “She must know eventually.”
“It’s easier to perform a show with a vulnerable song than it is to play it for one person,” Mary admitted. “The fear… it’s more about myself than it is about you. It’s the only productive means I have for dealing with my emotions. You know that. And if you hated it, I’d be gutted.”
“But I will love it, I am sure,” I promised. “You should never worry about that.”
“I will not play it for you. No. Not here,” Mary said. “But someday. I actually… I did something for your birthday with the song I wrote.”
“I’m going to cry,” I said. “Stop. You can show it to me later.”
I was curious about the song, but didn’t want to talk about it here. I wanted to learn about it in private and bask in the words she wrote—just us.
“I am crying,” Aunt Kiersten dabbed her eyes with her napkin. “Oh, our little Betty is in love.”
“I’m going to die. Are we good?” Nate asked. “I am sure Betty would love for us to move the fuck on.”
“Nate!” Mamma admonished.
“No, it’s fine. I would love that,” I agreed.
“Then, Skol, Betty. To many happy years!” Uncle Olav announced.
Dinner continued and relief settled in as the conversation turned from me to anything but.
“Your family is cute,” Mary said. “Don’t apologize or get all weird. You know how Pappa gushes, right?”
“He was so proud of you tonight, Mary.”
“I saw him after the show. He said you moved them down to the pit and made sure they were taken care of. Thank you for that. I had no idea.”
“It’s nothing.”
“No, it’s not. He adores you,” Mary said. “He told me not to fuck it up with you.”
Her words shocked me. I knew Erik liked me, but I didn’t anticipate that he was so invested in our relationship. I never made such an impression on a parent. I knew how much Mary’s dad meant. Knowing he appreciated and cared about me mattered more than I expected.
I assured, “You haven’t. You won’t fuck it up.”
“I’m serious, Bets. He knows I’m my own worst enemy.
I am going to try to get out of my own way.
” She squeezed my knee. “I love you, Betty, even if sometimes I have no idea what I am doing. You make me feel old at times, but, young, too. And you never fail to show up when I need you. I struggle to feel worthy… and maybe I don’t say it in the most convenient ways, but I do love you, Betty. ”
I cried. “It’s been a confusing evening, but… thanks for riding it out with me. I love you so much.”
Mary smiled. “I know you’re not crying because you’re upset, but if you don’t stop crying, I will keep crying.”
I giggled. “I’m sorry. I’m just so overwhelmed.”
“I know. Everything that could have gone wrong… did. And more.”
“But we’re still here,” Betty said. “Despite all the bad things, it worked out.”
She squeezed my knee. “More than worked out.”
“Yeah. You’re a finalist.”
Mary shook her head. “It’s not even that. I’m proud of myself for standing up to Max and still coming out on top. ?lskling, what means so much, is that I get to do what I love, but also that I get to do it with you there beside me.”
I melted, dabbing my eyes. “Shit. Sorry. I am a mess, but that’s so sweet. And you deserve it, Mary. I know how much you put your life on hold for others. But you shine now. Don’t feel bad doing that. I love watching it.”
She blushed and looked down, but I knew Mary appreciated it. I needed to give her that nod. I longed to encourage her to take the time to appreciate her well-earned accolades. She rarely took anything for herself.
“Now, should we get down to brass tacks and let Mary know what we’re planning to do?” Uncle Olav pulled it back around.
Our ears perked and pulled from our magical little romantic world.
“I’m sorry?” Mary asked, again confused.
“We want to release a statement,” Cici said. “And we’d love your publicist to vet it, too.”
Mary burst into laughter. “Oh, you assume I have a publicist?”
“You really should get one,” I said.
“You sound like my manager,” Mary said. “I should, but I am not at all media savvy. I should probably ask Leah.”
“Well, you could vet it, but we’d like to at least confirm that the two of you are dating and that you’re a private citizen, and we’d ask everyone to please respect your privacy,” Cici said. “I could run it by you sometime—”
“Cici, can you run it by her say… in the morning?” I winced. “If I really am the birthday girl who gets what she wants, what I am actually desperate for is a few minutes to just decompress and we’d both love to be in much more comfortable clothes.”
“Sure,” Cici said. “But does that seem okay at like, a high level, Mary?”
“Sure,” Mary agreed. “Honestly, it will be a relief.”
“We can’t make the press go away,” Uncle Olav said apologetically.
“Understood, sir. But they aren’t even the people I care about. You’ve got a massive party of people in pride gear setting up on your front lawn. It’s probably good to give them some confirmation all is well.”
“Is that concerning? Isn’t that just… people celebrating?” King Olav asked.
“They are. But it’s confirmation we’re all happy.” Mary confirmed she was at peace with an earnest smile.
“There’s a group of people out there?” I asked.
“A crush of them,” Mary chuckled. “It should give me a fright, but they’re happy. They just want to celebrate our joy. Even my stiff upper lip is no match for a queer love story.”
I sighed in relief. She was on board. We were doing this. I’d feared being outed. I braced for the crash, but the turbulence was over. I could love Mary Jensson in the light. There was nothing stopping us.
“It’s great,” I said. “Let them be happy we’re happy.”