Chapter 48
CHAPTER 48
L exi and I found Mum and Robyn bickering in a nearby French-inspired café, and picking at rockmelon, prosciutto, basil bites, and lemon crêpes.
‘Odd combination,’ I said, sitting. ‘What happened to old-fashioned chocolate cake?’
Robyn shushed me. ‘I’m pregnant.’ She paused. ‘So the wedding’s at your house, Kate?’
I nodded. ‘We didn’t have many options. In fact, we had no options.’
Lexi hugged her nanna before sitting. ‘It’s going to be epic. I can’t wait.’
‘Yes, it will,’ Mum replied.
‘Although, remember what happened to Samantha before her wedding? She had a chemical peel. Her face was one giant red peeling pus ball. Gross,’ Robyn stated.
‘Thanks, Robyn.’ Mum sighed. ‘I’ll remember not to book a facial peel.’
‘And don’t get your teeth bleached, either. You’ll blind the guests. ’
‘What are you two talking about?’ Lexi asked, after she and I had settled and ordered drinks.
‘Robyn’s telling me about all the things that can go wrong on my wedding day.’ Mum sipped her Earl Grey.
‘Not on your wedding day, Mum, before it,’ Robyn corrected her.
‘Like getting one of those spray-on fake tans and coming out looking like an orange monster?’ I asked. ‘By the way, do I grind my teeth? Lexi says I do but?—’
‘God, you always grind your teeth,’ Robyn barked. ‘I’m surprised you’ve got any left.’
Lexi smirked. ‘You need to get one of the mouth guards you force me to wear.’
‘Anyway,’ Robyn continued. ‘What was I saying? Oh yeah, that’s right, the list of potential wedding disasters is endless. And then there’s the wedding itself.’
‘Robyn!’ I sensed Mum was close to tears.
Robyn turned to me. ‘What? You have to prepare for these things. What if the caterer serves prawns that have been sitting in the sun too long? And someone vomits on Mum’s dress? Or worse, mine? Or?—’
‘Or you say something wildly insensitive to upset me?’ Mum snapped. ‘Give it a rest. Please?’
‘What?’ Robyn huffed. ‘What did I say?’
‘Enough.’ Mum banged her cup on the table. I thought I might be able to rely on my daughters to help me, and for once, just this one time, put me first. Is that too much to ask?’
‘Sorry,’ I mumbled.
‘Me too,’ Robyn muttered. ‘It’s the foetus talking. I wish he’d keep quiet.’
Lexi regarded the three of us and coughed. ‘Dr Thom hosted a wedding special last week?—’
‘Who?’ Mum looked confused .
‘Relationship guru,’ Robyn replied. ‘Netflix. You wouldn’t know him.’
‘And he said when somebody’s getting married,’ Lexi resumed, ‘everybody needs to say, It’s their day, and if I need to step to the side and give them this day, then it’s a gift I’m going to give them .’ She took a breath and, in a tone that suggested superiority, said, ‘I think Nanna would like us to do that.’
Mum smiled. ‘Thank you, Lexi. The calm voice of reason from my granddaughter.’
I resisted asking Lexi exactly when she’d been watching Dr Thom , given how much homework and extra assignments she had, but I didn’t want more arguing. Instead, I reached into my bag and pulled out some paper. ‘I’ve got a checklist. Let’s see. Venue, check. And I think the caterers have been confirmed too, Mum?’
‘Yes, and menu selected, apart from dessert. I’ll do that.’
‘Good.’ I crossed a couple of items off the list. ‘Prenup? Signed?’
‘I beg your pardon?’ Mum warned.
‘Kidding. I’ve emailed a party hire site and we can bundle furniture and crockery together from the one spot. Flowers?’
‘Ordered.’
‘Cake?’ Lexi asked.
‘I’ve already made a plum pudding for Christmas,’ Mum replied. ‘Why don’t we have that together with a traditional festive pavlova and berries?’
Lexi clapped. ‘Yes please.’
Robyn nodded. ‘I’m happy with that. Wedding attire?’
‘At home hanging in my wardrobe.’ Mum’s dress was a secret. She wouldn’t budge on details no matter how hard we pressed her.
‘Hints?’ I asked. ‘At least tell us the colour.’
‘Is it ruched?’ Robyn said .
‘Are you wearing a mini?’ Lexi probed.
‘My lips are sealed,’ Mum replied.
‘You’re very good at keeping secrets,’ I said.
‘I’ve had decades of practice.’
‘Next on the list – hair, make-up, et cetera?’ I asked.
‘Booked for you, me, Robyn and Lexi. I just need to confirm the time.’
‘What about special effects?’ Robyn asked. ‘To give your wedding the wow factor… like disco lighting? Or maybe professional entertainers?’
‘What?’ I asked. ‘Like jugglers? A circus act?’
‘Maybe, or a wedding stripogram. Something to lighten the mood.’
‘Implying the mood won’t be light on its own?’ Mum was fierce. ‘How about a string quartet?’
‘Lovely, but Christmas Eve.’ I sounded like a broken record.
‘Yes,’ Robyn agreed and pinched me. ‘I can see the Insta posts now.’
Fearful of any more café flare-ups, I paid the bill. It was time to get down to business: searching for appropriate wedding attire for Lexi.
‘Robyn’s wearing black. Why can’t I?’ Lexi grumbled.
‘Just because Robyn’s decided on a black chiffon muumuu doesn’t mean you have to,’ I told her. ‘Any other colour, Lex.’
‘That’d be right. Because I choose to wear black, you’re telling me I can’t.’
‘It’s not that, darling,’ Mum soothed. ‘But it’s a wedding… it’s festive. And there are so many great colours in the shops. You can choose any one of them.’
‘To be fair,’ Robyn chimed in, ‘I haven’t made up my mind. I might wear aubergine. Or scarlet. Maybe a polka-dot pant suit.’
We walked into a boutique where every piece of clothing was size zero (size zero being the equivalent of an adult having an eight-year-old girl’s waist measurement, but let’s not get me started) and exposed plenty of skin.
‘I… I don’t know.’ Mum gazed at Lexi as she paraded a form-fitting, hot-pink halter-top complete with diamantés. It was more like a very revealing bra. The calf-length skirt sat on Lexi’s hips, or rather her pubic bone. Very low cut. Everything Lexi picked out was tight, backless, frontless, slashed to the thigh, or a combination of the above.
‘Here,’ I said to Robyn, having picked up a perfume from the counter. ‘Let me squirt this on you in case it’s revolting.’
‘For goodness’ sake!’ Robyn dutifully extended her arm and I sprayed. Ten seconds later we both took a deep breath and wrinkled our noses. ‘Yuck!’
So much for perfume taking my mind off Lexi’s clothing. After much deliberation, we compromised. Sort of. Lexi chose a pale-pink silk backless ankle-length dress.
‘I adore the colour,’ Mum said. ‘Soft and romantic.’
‘Lovely,’ I agreed. Some outrageously priced silver sparkly sandals completed her outfit. And everyone was still on speaking terms. Bonus.
As we walked out of the shop and into the central courtyard, ‘I Saw Mummy Kissing Santa Claus’ was blaring from the surround-sound speakers.
‘The two worst things about Christmas,’ Robyn explained. ‘Festive songs and crowds. Ugh.’
‘You can’t really sing about your mother kissing Santa anymore,’ Lexi chirped. ‘It’s subjecting minors like me to softcore porn.’
Mum blinked.
‘As for Rudolph,’ Robyn said. ‘He was bullied.’
‘Thank you both. Let’s hoof it to the next shop.’ I’d researched online and had my eye on an emerald-green number, so I led the way to the boutique to see it for real. Being the new confident me, I marched straight over to where it was hanging and picked a dress off the rack. Happily, it was in my size.
As I entered the changing room, a chirpy shop assistant wearing antler ears said, ‘We have other colours if this one’s not to your taste.’
Was there something people weren’t telling me? Did I look like a bag lady? Did green look hideous on me?
‘No, I love this colour,’ I told her, as she critically examined me, head to toe.
I hurriedly closed the curtain. Once on, the dress was far from perfect. But if I wore a super-tight body stocking underneath it and draped a black wrap strategically around my shoulders and across my mid-section – and didn’t eat or drink anything at the reception or the day before – I could possibly get away with it, once my hair was professionally washed and styled, my make-up professionally applied, and I stood in flattering, forgiving candlelight. Out of the wind.
Sold!
Lexi and I arrived home to find Matthew and Angus admiring a huge pine tree in the family room, upright and looking stunning even without decorations.
‘Wow,’ I said, walking up to Matthew and kissing him. ‘You’ve outdone yourselves. Scout hall? Living Christmas Tree fundraiser?’
‘Where else? And before you ask,’ Matthew said proudly, ‘we sprayed for spiders and insects outside before we brought it in. It’s been denuded of crawling creatures.’
‘Thank you, darling. No one wants to wake up on Christmas morning and find a family of arachnids living inside their presents.’