Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Faye
My jaw clenches when I step into our apartment and see Alex lying on the couch playing video games. He’s swearing into the headset—probably at some twelve-year-old kid in Korea—while resting his feet on the dirty coffee table.
The apartment is somehow even messier than when I left this morning. Alex took the day off to get ready for tonight. I assumed that meant cleaning and cooking for our families who are going to be here in an hour and a half, but I guess that was giving him too much credit.
“Hey babe,” he says, straightening up when he sees me. He quickly stacks the dirty dishes on the coffee table with one hand as he continues to play the video game with the other. Doing both at the same time proves too difficult and he simultaneously spills his bowl of chips and dies in the game.
“Shit,” he mutters and then quickly turns it off.
He gives me a guilty look like a little kid who was just caught drawing on the sofa. “I was just about to finish cleaning.”
“Finish?” I ask, looking around. “You didn’t even start.”
“I was grocery shopping,” he quickly says.
“Did you get the zucchini and cheese like I asked?” I have to get started on the lasagna now if I’m going to have it ready in time.
“I forgot the list, so I got hot dogs instead.”
Heat flushes through my body as I stare at him. “My parents are driving almost two hours each way,” I tell him in a tight voice. “I’m not serving them hot dogs.”
“Everyone loves hot dogs,” he says, balancing the dirty dishes in his arms as he shuffles to the kitchen. “This is supposed to be a fun dinner. Don’t take the fun out of it.”
My body is all tense as I step into the kitchen and see his breakfast and lunch crap still out on the counter. Dishes are piled in the sink. The floor needs to be swept and washed. The windows are dirty.
“I’m not taking the fun out of it,” I say defensively. “I just want to have a clean apartment for our parents.”
“They won’t care,” he says. “They’re just happy to be invited for the show.”
“And we’re going to be on camera,” I say, grabbing the open mayo on the counter and shoving it into the fridge. “I’d prefer not to have a mess in the background.”
“We’ll sit on the couch with the wall behind us,” he says. “I thought this through. Don’t worry.”
It’s not worth getting into. If I get upset he’s just going to turn it around and get mad at me.
“Whatever,” I say, pulling my hair out of my ponytail. “I’m going to take a shower.”
“Don’t worry, babe,” he says as I walk down the hall, kicking his slipper into the room. “I’m going to clean up good while you’re in there.”
I squeeze out my tense hands as I head into the room and place my outfit on the unmade bed.
He didn’t even make the fucking bed.
Sometimes I wonder what I’m doing with this man-child.
Alex was my high school crush. He was one of the coolest guys in Mackenzie High—good-looking with a job at the gas station and his own car.
He seemed so grown up to my fifteen-year-old self.
He was two grades above me and we didn’t speak once throughout high school, but when I spotted him at a pub three years ago on my twenty-third birthday, I went for it.
I was three beers deep and going through my fearless phase, so I approached him.
We hit it off, made out in some dark corner of the bar, and were dating by the end of the week.
It was fun at first and I felt like I was living my high school dream—being able to kiss the Alex Hanks whenever I desired—but that quickly wore off.
There’s only so long you can remain infatuated with an image of someone before the real person shoves their way into your carefully constructed fantasy and spoils everything.
There were signs, but I guess I never fully realized that Alex Hanks hadn’t grown up until we moved in together. I’m not sure if he’s even capable of growing up.
And it’s wearing on my last nerve.
“Is it too late to put the dishwasher on?”
“Yes!” I shout back, squeezing my eyes shut.
“I’ll just load it anyway.”
Great, so we can run out of plates and I can do all the dishes after we have our two families over.
It’s always stressful mixing the families. My older sister Willow hates Alex, and her husband Greg doesn’t have anything in common with him. Dad tries to smooth things out, but he’s not very good at it, so it’s always so awkward. I hate it.
Then, there’s Alex’s brother and his mom. They never bring anything and they boss me around like I’m their waitress. It makes me crazy that Alex never stands up for me. I tried to bring it up once, but he ended up getting mad at me for some reason.
I guess he’s just taking a little longer to grow up. I’m hoping that being married is going to kick him into shape. People change all the time after getting married, right?
I take a quick shower, then help clean the apartment. We get it into manageable shape—mostly by tossing everything into the closets—before my sister shows up. She and Greg are both lawyers in the city, so they’re the first to arrive.
It starts off poorly and goes downhill from there. Willow looks pissed and when my sister is pissed, she can barely hide it.
“I feel all icky just being here,” she says as Greg and Alex do their awkward small talk in the kitchen. “Celebrating this goes against everything I stand for.”
“Can’t you just support me?” I whisper, already exasperated.
“I am supporting you. That’s why I’m pissed.”
My parents arrive next and they bring helium balloons, which is cute of them.
“I’m sure Alex will love playing with those,” Willow mutters under her breath as we welcome them in. I just ignore her.
“How was the traffic?” I ask, trying to get the conversation onto anything other than my fiancé.
“Must have been a bunch of squirrels driving,” Dad says with a sly grin. “Because traffic was nuts.”
No one laughs at Dad’s joke except Dad, who gives himself a little nod like he nailed it anyway.
“I brought a salad,” Mom says, handing over her big wooden bowl, “and that lemon pie you like.”
There’s also a baguette and two bottles of wine in the bag, which I can’t wait to get started on.
“Thanks, Mom,” I say as Greg takes her coat. “You didn’t have to do all that.”
“I wasn’t sure what we were having,” Dad says, “so I brought a Cabernet Sauvignon and a Merlot.”
“They’ll both go great with the hot dogs,” Alex says, grabbing the bottles from him.
“Hot dogs?” Willow asks, barely suppressing her grin.
“Yeah, it’s a Funniest Home Bloopers tradition at my house,” Alex says. “We used to always eat hot dogs while watching our favorite show.”
“And now you’re going to be on it,” Dad says, grinning. “Isn’t that something?”
“It’s something alright,” Willow mutters.
“Well, I think it’s sweet that you’re honoring your family tradition,” Mom says. “Hot dogs sound wonderful.”
I don’t think I’ve ever seen my mother eat a hot dog in my whole life. It must be a night of firsts because it’s also the first time I’ve ever heard of Alex’s hot dog tradition. I think he just made it up on the spot.
As we get everyone drinks, Alex’s mom and brother arrive. Sharon barges in wearing a floral dress and the kind of tight smile that usually means I’m about to be corrected. Her hair is done—teased excessively high—and she has a face full of makeup, which I’ve never seen on her before.
She wants to be on camera.
That has to be the reason why she’s wearing makeup. Maybe she can take my place…
Alex’s older brother Derek is standing behind her with his mouth open, those dull eyes as vacant as usual, reeking of weed. He walks in and heads straight to the bathroom without acknowledging me or my family.
As usual, they didn’t bring anything.
“Come in, Sharon,” Mom says, forcing out a smile. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“Pinot Grigio, if you have a decent one,” Sharon says without looking at her.
“I think we only have red,” Mom says.
Sharon huffs out a long, annoyed breath, looking at the ceiling before those spiteful eyes land on me. “Pinot Grigio, Faye. You should know your mother-in-law’s favorite drink.”
She moves on to say hello to my dad and Greg before I can answer.
Willow shuffles up next to me. “How about some Pinot Grigio with a splash of cyanide in it?” she whispers.
“How about a glass of cyanide with a splash of Pinot Grigio instead?” I whisper back.
Finally, Sharon gets to me and air-kisses the side of my face, assaulting me with her floral perfume. “Hello, Faye. It’s not often that you’re the star of the evening. I can’t believe you’re going to be on television.”
“Pretty crazy,” I say with a tightness in my chest.
“And it’s all because of my Alex,” she says, walking over and giving him a big hug. “What a clever boy. How did you ever come up with that hilarious prank?”
I can feel Willow staring me down. I look everywhere but at her.
“I knew she wanted to get engaged,” Alex says with a self-satisfied smirk, “and I didn’t want to just do the classic romance thing.”
“Because what girl wants classic romance?” Willow asks, rolling her eyes. “Especially during her engagement.”
“Exactly,” Alex says, nodding. “And I found that jumping spider in a prank store, so it was perfect.”
“And now you may win fifty thousand dollars,” Sharon says, elated. “That’s life-changing money.”
There is that. A big check at the end of this. I have to remember that. It will all be worth it if we can pay for the wedding in cash.
“What time is the show calling in?” Dad asks.
“They’re going to be calling at seven-ten,” I say, “but the filming starts at seven-thirty.”
“Then you better get started on dinner,” Sharon says with those stern eyes looking me up and down. “You’ll need to save yourself time to get ready.”
“I am ready,” I mumble as I look down at my outfit.
Mom and Willow help with the hot dogs while Alex and his brother disappear. I just want to fast-forward this whole night. I keep telling myself that no matter what happens, at one point tonight, I’ll be in my bed, watching a cheesy reality show on my laptop, and all of this will be behind me.