2 Give Thanks
GIVE THANKS
Lucy
T he door to the town car swings open, and Darryl, my parents’ butler, gives me a welcoming smile.
“Head on in, and I’ll bring your luggage to your room. Nice to have you home, Lucy,” he says, slightly bowing as he does.
“Thanks, Darryl. Not sure I can say the same, but check back in a couple of days.” I smile up at him.
He chuckles knowingly. “Will do. Try to enjoy your visit, miss.”
“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” my brother, Trevor, calls out from the porch of the enormous Floridian beachfront mansion—my home for the first eighteen years of life.
Climbing the ridiculous ten steps to greet him, I call him out. “All of you were too busy to come get me yourselves, huh?” I ask with a hand on my hip, cocked to the side.
“Oh, you know, Mom and Dad had an important tee time.”
“Yeah? What’s your excuse?”
Once I entered baggage claim, our driver was holding a sign with my name on it—a typical welcome. I’m not surprised, nor am I heartbroken, because frankly, I’m used to it.
“Well, dear sister, my excuse is I was just notified of your arrival twenty minutes ago when they texted me you’d be here soon. Now bring it in.” He holds his arms open, and I curl into them. Being away from Trevor is the hardest part about living so far away. For all the coldness my parents give me, Trevor has always had a sweet spot for his little sister.
“I’m not surprised they forgot. I’m sure there are more important things to worry about, like their handicap.”
“Ah, don’t worry about them. You have me, and that’s all you need. How about we start this visit right with a cocktail by the pool and have a real conversation before they get here?” he asks, squeezing me before letting go.
“Good idea. You need to catch me up on your latest fling anyway,” I say as he leads me to the bar.
“That’s a conversation not worth having.”
We stay in touch, but keeping up with his dating life is hard. Everyone in our social circle tries to marry their kid to an Alcott. And since I moved away, all the attention has gone to Trevor. Between my parents and their friends, it’s a wonder he’s not betrothed yet. As it is, the pressure is heavy, and one of the main reasons I moved. Sorry, people—I’m not going to date your son just because he’s rich and has my parents’ approval.
On the other hand, Trevor is having the time of his life. Women are lined up, a new one ready to go as soon as he’s bored with the last. These poor girls have no idea it’s just a game to him and that he, too, won’t be surrendering to our parents’ whims. They’re not as intense with him though. It always made me a tad resentful that they’re more lenient with Trevor, but I’ve finally moved past it and made peace with the fact that my parents mean well but suck at showing it.
“So, how ya been, sis?” Trevor asks as he pours two glasses of bubbly.
He insists on celebrating my annual visiting season with a bottle of the finest. No complaints here.
“Fairly good. Work is the same, though Sebastian’s been more mellow ever since Lily came along. Her becoming a good friend was a surprise—a good one. She’s sweet, but she’s been acting like Mom lately, always trying to get me to date. She’s trying to set me up with this guy from the office as we speak.” I roll my eyes, taking the glass he hands me.
“Cheers to the both of us then. Single, smart, and not suicidal,” he says, holding his glass up.
“Cheers.”
“And speaking of smart, tell me why you’re still pretending to be a secretary when you have a master’s from Harvard.” He leads the conversation as we walk out to the pool, the cool ocean breeze refreshing after a long day of travel.
“Don’t start. I get enough of that from Mom and Dad. And I’ve already told you, I do it because it’s easy and I like my job. I’m also paid enough to make it worth it. For all of Sebastian Dubree’s faults, compensating his employees well isn’t one of them.”
“You’re crazy, but whatever floats your boat.”
“Enough about me. Where are things with Daphne?” I say, turning the tables on him.
“Nowhere. Who’s this guy Lily’s trying to set you up with?”
“Uh-uh, don’t try to get out of it. Spill. If you’re not with Daphne, who are you seeing these days, or is the infamous bachelor available?”
“I didn’t say I wasn’t with her, just that we’ve gotten nowhere. She’s difficult,” he says cryptically.
Now, this has my attention. “Difficult how?”
“She’s not into it. It’s obvious her parents forced her to go out with me.”
“That’s nothing new. What’s the problem?”
“The problem is, most girls are all too eager, and she’s barely giving me the time of day.”
“Oh my gosh, you like her. Who are you, and what have you done with my brother?” We both laugh.
“Knock it off. I’m just being… challenged, and it’s refreshing. She intrigues me, not to mention she can actually hold a conversation about real topics, like work and politics, not just bullshit. I might be interested in more with her. But as I said, we’re nowhere because she’s not interested.”
“That’s not the Trevor I know. The Trevor I know would show this girl who he is and prove to her she can’t refuse. If anyone is worthy, it’s you, so don’t give up.”
“Thanks, Luce, I won’t.” He looks at his watch. “We’ve only got about thirty minutes ’til the ’rents get here. Let’s finish this bottle and hide the evidence.”
“Lovely idea,” I agree as we clink our glasses and bottoms up.
One more night to go. I’ve got this. I will survive the final dinner with my parents before returning to the land of normal. With one last look in the mirror while giving myself a pep talk, I’m prepared for my pending doom. Hopefully, Trevor’s here already, or I’m going to lose it.
Before rounding the corner toward the living room, voices signal that we have guests. Good. My remaining night home might be bearable. Feeling better about the evening, I enter the room with a smile.
“Ah, there she is now,” Mom says when she sees me.
There are three additional people: a couple who look to be about my parents’ age and a guy who I’m assuming is their son. Perhaps a friend of Trevor’s?
“Lucy, come here so I can introduce you to our friends.” My mom beckons me with her hand.
Silently thanking whoever they are for joining us, I comply, smiling softly.
“Lucy, this is Mr. and Mrs. Whitehall and their son Nathan. They’ve recently relocated from New York, and we’ve been inseparable since. Nathan is also home for the holiday. He works for a company similar to yours, so I imagine you have a lot in common.”
They shake my hand and give me their first names, insisting that’s what I call them. Little do they know, I’ll never remember regardless, so it’s inconsequential. Once Nathan greets me and the formalities are out of the way, my goal is to ruin Mom’s plan to set me up, which I’m positive she’s trying to do.
“While our companies may be similar, I’m sure our positions aren’t. I’m just a secretary,” I point out before asking my mom, “Where is Trevor?”
Brushing my question off by telling me Trevor had other plans, she quickly returns the conversation to me. “Now, don’t be modest, dear. You’re the secretary to the CEO of Dubree Enterprises himself. I’m certain you wouldn’t have that position if you didn’t have an MBA from Harvard on your resumé,” Mom purposefully brags.
“You work alongside Sebastian Dubree?” Nathan asks as if she just told him I won the Nobel Prize or something equally absurd.
Oh geez, here we go. “I wouldn’t say alongside… more like way under, as in the bottom. I’m pretty much his personal lackey.”
“Hell, I’d be the lackey to that man any day of the week. He’s basically a god,” he says, unfazed.
“Lily, his fiancé, would agree with you. On the other hand, I can attest to him being quite the tyrant.” There’s no need to embellish things. The worse I make it sound, the quicker this charade will end.
“I’m sure Lucy has plenty of stories to share. Don’t you, sweetheart? We’ll go join your dad so you two can talk.” Mom ushers Nathan’s parents away in the most obvious attempt possible to leave us alone.
It’s not that Nathan is unattractive. On the contrary, I’d say he’s handsome in a “guy your parents would approve of” sort of way. But I refuse to give in and entertain any notion of dating someone just because my parents want me to. My whole life, I’ve been molded into their ideal version of the perfect daughter, and when I went to college, I realized the word perfect just wasn’t in my vocabulary.
I hate to be rude, though, so asking Nathan a question about his job seems like the polite thing to do. “So, what do you do, then? My mom mentioned we work in a similar field.”
“I’m a strategist for a large investment firm in the city. New York, I mean. We’re light-years behind Dubree Enterprises but sizable in the grand scheme of things. I still can’t get over the fact that you work for the man himself. What’s he like?” He’s like a kid in a candy store.
Internally rolling my eyes, I answer and indulge in conversation until Darryl finally calls us to dinner.
Our fathers are seated at one end of the table, Nathan and I at the other, with our moms in between. My mother wastes no time. “You two seem to have a lot to talk about. You could always continue your conversation further if you’d like. Our driver can bring you somewhere for a nightcap.” Here we go. She may as well bring out the prenup.
“My flight is early in the morning, so that’s probably not a good idea. Sorry.” Not sorry .
“Well, at least exchange phone numbers to stay in touch. Maybe you can get together when you both come home for Christmas.”
“You could’ve at least made an attempt. He’s perfect for you. Isn’t that right, honey?” Now she’s trying to bring Dad into it.
He pretty much ignores everything about my life, too busy raising the perfect minion in Trevor. I’m basically a thorn in their side until I’m married, when they won’t give me another thought.
“Nathan seems like a fine young man. His parents wouldn’t have raised any less, I’m sure.” Great, more fuel for the fire.
“Your dad and I have been discussing our expectations, Lucy, and it’s high time you start taking life more seriously and thinking about your future. It would be best if you settled down soon. You’re not getting any younger, you know.”
Funny that I heard those exact words from someone else recently. Mom hasn’t let up since the Whitehalls left tonight, and I’m nearing the end of my rope. I’m so tired of the conversation that what pops out of my mouth next is no fault of my own.
“I’m seeing someone,” I announce out of nowhere.
“Well, it can’t be that serious if we haven’t heard about it until now, which means you’re not off the market yet. You should keep in contact with Nathan. I think you two are perfect for each other. Your children would be beautiful,” Mom keeps droning on as if I’d said nothing. Beautiful children are all that matter, didn’t you know?
What the hell is it going to take? “Actually, it is serious. We’re engaged.” I internally cringe at the words spewing from my mouth. What the hell am I doing?
Choking on her wine, Mom shrieks, “WHAT? No, you’re not. You’re not even wearing a ring. You can’t be. Franklin, are you hearing this? Your daughter is trying to tell us she’s engaged. This is ridiculous.” The lie that just came out of my mouth was worth it for no other reason than to see Mom have the biggest fit I’ve witnessed since I was seven and cut all my hair off.
“I’m hearing it. What I didn’t hear is who this man is and why we haven’t met him. Care to explain yourself, Lucy?” Well, this is a first—Dad giving a crap about something pertaining to me.
“It’s someone I met at the office. We decided not to tell anyone until we had time to—” I’m not able to finish, which is a good thing because I hadn’t really come up with an answer yet.
“Oh my God, are you pregnant ?” my mom asks with a high-pitched shriek.
I really want to fuck with her and say yes, but I’d just be digging myself deeper, and then what? Not only that, but I’m pissed it’s what she automatically assumes after telling her I’m engaged.
“No, I’m not pregnant. He’s just busy, and we decided not to tell anyone until we could give it the attention it deserves.”
Mom’s face lights up. “It’s Mr. Dubree, isn’t it?”
“NO!” I immediately protest.
“Well then, who is it? You said he was from the office.” She visibly deflates.
“Mom, Dubree Enterprises is huge.” I roll my eyes. “His name is Justin, and he’s one of their security officers.”
“You’re engaged to a rent-a-cop? What are you thinking, Lucy? You’re worth more than that,” Mom says as she fans herself with her hand dramatically. It doesn’t go unnoticed that she didn’t say I deserve more, but that I’m worth more.
And this is precisely what I hate about being home. My parents’ pretentiousness. It pisses me off. “He’s not a rent-a-cop. He runs his own security firm and is a badass bodyguard for the rich and famous.” I’m defending my pretend fiancé—this is ridiculous.
Mom sighs in relief. “That sounds slightly more suitable.”
I’m so over this conversation.
“You will not marry someone beneath you, and certainly not without our approval,” Dad interjects.
“You can’t be serious. It’s my decision who I marry, and that decision is made.” I’m now fighting for my fake engagement.
Seriously, what is wrong with me?
“We’ll see about that. Your trust fund says otherwise,” Dad states with no emotion whatsoever.
He did not just threaten me.
“Thank you so much for the enlightenment. My trust fund can go fuck itself,” I yell my parting words as I walk out of the room, leaving Mom gasping and Dad cursing my name.