Her first thought when she had got her parents to take a seat in the living room and shown them her engagement ring was that they look relieved – as relieved as parents of an ugly duckling might feel.
‘That’s an impressive ring,’ her father said. He held on to her hand, looked at her mother and then, as he let go, added, ‘I’m sure you know whether or not Bart’s the right guy for you.’
‘It is rather quick,’ her mother said. ‘It took us six months to get engaged, but I suppose that was because your father was too bashful.’
‘That’s not true,’ he said. ‘I wasn’t bashful. I was cautious.’
Her mother rolled her eyes. ‘The eye sees not itself but by reflection,’ she offered.
‘Don’t start quotin’ Shakespeare, darlin’. You know I was and always have been cautious.’
‘Right,’ she said with a flick of her right hand, her favorite gesture of dismissal. ‘So how have Florence and John Stonefield reacted to this news?’
Her mother always went right for the jugular, Victoria thought. She wasn’t sure whether that was good or bad. The opposite approach – circling the real issue, which was the way most people handled controversial things – could be frustrating and a waste of time, too. It was amazing. Here she was in her twenties and she was still wondering if she wanted to be more or less like her mother.
‘I don’t know,’ Victoria said. She had never told her mother or father about what she and Bart had come upon that night at the dealership. He hadn’t mentioned their reaction to his giving her an engagement ring and she hadn’t asked. She just assumed that they didn’t know yet.
‘Have you met Florence Stonefield since Bart’s been taking you out?’ her mother asked.
‘No.’
Her mother folded her hands together, pressed her forefingers against each other and brought them to her lips as she thought. The tightness at the corners of her eyes spread tiny lines into her temples like hairline cracks in a window. Victoria knew that meant her mother was having a troubled thought.
‘I’m going to meet them tomorrow night. Bart’s arranging for us all to have dinner at Dante’s,’ Victoria quickly added.
Her mother looked up. Her eyes were sharp, that familiar look of confidence and authority firming her posture. When she was like this, Victoria thought, she seemed regally beautiful. It was harder to ignore her than it was to ignore a queen.
‘Florence Stonefield is one of those women who believes there’s a caste system in America similar to the one in India,’ she said.
‘I’m not marrying Florence Stonefield,’ Victoria responded.
‘Let me give you one word of advice, Victoria. When you marry someone, no matter what the man might tell you, you marry his family, too.’
‘And vice versa,’ Victoria countered. Her father smiled.
‘Just so you’re aware of it,’ her mother said.
‘How could I not be? Bart works with his father. Which brings me to the other big news. His father’s going forward with the foreign car dealership in Monticello and Bart will be the manager.’
‘Well, that is good news,’ her father said.
‘When do you plan on this wedding?’ her mother asked. ‘Or I should say, when do we plan on it?’
‘We were thinking we might just elope,’ she replied.
‘Elope?’ her father said.
‘I see. Who came up with that idea?’ her mother asked.
She shrugged. ‘We were talking about an elaborate wedding and Bart just said, “Why don’t we just run off and do it? We could always have a ceremony later.” I thought that made sense.’
‘Nothing impulsive ever makes sense,’ her mother said. ‘But you’re both adults and in charge of your own lives. Is this happening very soon?’
‘We haven’t decided on the exact date yet, but it won’t be too long.’
‘Seems like a waste to buy an engagement ring,’ she quipped.
‘No, it’s not. You still wear yours.’
‘Yes. Well, keep us up on the details, such as what day you’re running off,’ her mother added and rose. ‘We’re supposed to join Gerry and Miriam Kaplan for dinner tonight. I’m going up to shower and dress,’ she said and walked out of the living room.
Victoria watched her leave. ‘I’m glad she’s so excited for me,’ she muttered.
‘Well, mothers look forward to their daughter’s weddin’s, Vick – all that plannin’ and shoppin’. In a way, it brings them closer just when they’re about to separate, don’t ya think?’ he asked softly.
‘I suppose,’ she said.
‘I would be lyin’ like the fox to that hen if I didn’t say I was lookin’ forward to walkin’ you down the aisle and givin’ you away, darlin’,’ he added.
She nodded.
‘I mean, why do you guys hafta run off in the night as though you were doin’ somethin’ underhand or forbidden?’
‘We don’t have to,’ she said. She saw the disappointment in his eyes. ‘I’ll speak to Bart. You’re right. I was just … overwhelmed and didn’t think it out.’
He smiled.
‘There’s nothin’ wrong with that, Vick. I’m really happy for you and so’s your mom.’ He rose and gave her a kiss. ‘Got to get dolled up or I’ll be whipped in the tool shed,’ he joked and walked out.
She sat there thinking a moment before going to her bedroom and calling Bart.
‘Hey,’ he said, ‘how did you know I miss you already?’
‘Let’s see if you say that in five years – even two.’
‘I’ll say it. You can take that to the bank.’
‘I have a problem,’ she said.
‘Oh?’
‘My parents are really very disappointed about our not having a wedding. I didn’t realize how much it meant to them. I’m sure it will mean the same to me when our daughter gets engaged,’ she added.
‘Right, right.’
‘I mean, you don’t mind, do you?’
‘When were you thinking?’
‘I haven’t gotten to that yet. What do you think’s a good date?’
‘Sooner the better or I’ll force you to live in sin,’ he said.
She laughed. ‘OK. I imagine your parents will want to have their say.’
‘Let your parents take the lead,’ he said. ‘My mother can be … overwhelming. It will be a coup de tata or something.’
She laughed.
‘Tata? Coup d’état. Not if she meets mine,’ Victoria said and he laughed. ‘Maybe this will be more fun than we know,’ she added hopefully.
‘It could be as much fun as being on the Titanic,’ he said.
After she hung up, she went to tell her parents about the reversal of their decision.
‘I hope you’re not doing this for my benefit alone, Victoria,’ her mother said. ‘It has to be meaningful to you more than to anyone else. There are times when being selfish is not only OK, but it’s necessary.’
‘No. I really gave it some thought, Mom. I realized I want a real wedding. I want to come out of the closet,’ she said. Her mother widened her eyes and looked as if she was going to laugh or at least smile.
‘I like that,’ her mother said and did smile. ‘Lester?’
Her father, still holding his razor with shaving cream over his face, stood in the bathroom doorway, listening.
‘I heard it all. Of course. It’s great. I’ll even buy a new tuxedo – a real penguin suit.’
‘Oh, you’ll buy more than that,’ her mother told him.
He looked comical in his lathered face, smiling.
‘You can be such an idiot sometimes, Lester Myers,’ she said and then added, ‘But a delightful one.’
The three looked at each other and then, for the first time in a long time, they all laughed. They laughed together and suddenly she felt that they were really a family again.
How ironic.
It was happening just when she was planning to leave them.
The following day, Victoria’s mother and father explored some possible venues for the reception. Their best hope for the closest date was a moderate-size hotel called the Olympic, just outside of Woodridge.
‘I hope Florence Stonefield won’t hold us to Emily Post rules and regulations,’ her mother told her. ‘This is quick. The pressure will be on to make some big decisions. We can do the wedding right after Labor Day. The hotel will be available, obviously. I’m hoping the Stonefields don’t expect they’ll be able to invite every Stonefield customer. It’s not intended to be a business write-off,’ she added.
Uh-oh, Victoria thought. Now I see why Bart was hoping to elope.
Actually, it felt good to be concerned with the issues that confronted any two families when their children were marrying. They all looked quite surmountable to her. When she had told her parents she was coming out of the closet, she wasn’t kidding. She knew the wedding would revive the memories, the infamous Incident, and for that reason both she and Bart would be in a bigger spotlight. She was depending on her love for Bart and his love for her to carry her above it all. The wedding might be just the way to put it finally to bed. After all, she was marrying a respectable young man with a successful business. Girls who didn’t carry her wounds weren’t doing as well.
She was more nervous preparing for their dinner with Bart’s parents than she had been on her first date with Bart. Bart’s own descriptions of his mother underscored the view of Florence Stonefield expressed by Victoria’s own mother. That alone set the stage for a complex evening.
She had read enough novels and even some psychological research on the relationship of mothers-in-law and daughters-in-law to know there was a natural distrust, even a resentment sometimes. This young woman was taking away her son. She was no longer the number-one female in his life, and when and if there was conflict between them, her son naturally would support his wife. That was who he would be living with now; that was whom he would pledge to keep happy and safe until death do them part. It would help if they liked each other, but it wouldn’t prevent eventual conflicts and disagreements about everything possible, from the furniture she chose to how she and Bart raised their children. All this was double pressure because they were both only children.
Bart would face some of the same issues with Victoria’s mother and father. Her mother especially, she thought, was a very strong personality. She was that famous Sagittarius who would say exactly what she felt or believed. Sagittarius personalities were not good politicians.
Now, added to all this, was what she knew about Bart’s father and what he knew she knew. Apparently, Bart had chosen to see no evil and hear no evil. She would follow his lead, of course, and pretend she saw nothing out of the ordinary that night. However, she anticipated his father searching her face for signs of disapproval or disdain at dinner. Just for tonight, she thought, I will try not to be my mother’s daughter.
Bart arrived a little earlier than usual to take her out, knowing he would have to spend a little time with her parents. They greeted him warmly. Her mother was even funnier than she had been the first time.
‘Don’t think you’re getting a pass on college credit by marrying my daughter,’ she told him.
‘I expect she’ll have me reading more,’ he said. ‘I’ve already improved my vocabulary,’ he added. ‘But she knows the importance of a carburetor now.’
‘Don’t believe him,’ Victoria said. ‘I’ve never looked under a car hood.’
He took her hand. Her parents could see the deepening affection between them and exchanged glances.
When her father mentioned that Victoria had told him about the new dealership, Bart went into it in great detail, describing his plans to crack the market for foreign cars, the publicity ideas he was conjuring and then the plans for the business management – something he thought her father, being a business manager, would appreciate. They were off and running with a conversation that left both Victoria and her mother only observers.
‘It all sounds quite sound and excitin’,’ her father told him. ‘You’ve prepared yourself well for the move, Bart. I wish you all the best.’
Bart was beaming. She had the sense that he was getting more support from her father than he usually received from his own.
They were flying on a magic carpet when they left for Dante’s.
‘Your parents are great,’ he said. ‘I wish my father had more of your father’s Virginia ham in him.’
‘Oh, you should see how they go at each other over the way he pronounces words and some of his Southern expressions. But she was charmed. You were right to compare my father to Randolph Scott. She used to call him her Randolph Scott. She never told me. He did in front of her one day and you should have seen her blush.’
‘That I would like to see. My mother doesn’t blush; she burns.’
‘Oh, Bart, surely you’re exaggerating,’ she said, hoping.
‘Let me prepare you for my mother,’ he began. ‘She’s capable of asking embarrassing questions. I’ll play referee, but if she gets out of hand, don’t hesitate to let her know. She’s actually a pussy cat at heart, but, like most cats, she’ll lord it over you until you show your own claws.’
She sat back.
Maybe she wouldn’t get through this unscathed after all. Maybe this whole thing was really impossible. Perhaps she should have gone off to a graduate school in another state and met a different young man whose parents didn’t know she was a rape victim who had returned to the community where the perpetrators could still be living.
What really had brought her back?
What secret was she yet to discover?
By the time they arrived at the restaurant, it seemed as if everyone there knew why they were having dinner. Bart suspected his father had let them know. He wanted extra-special treatment. Mrs Dante practically leaped at her engagement ring.
‘What’s this I see? How beautiful. Special night tonight. Thank you for spending it with us.’
His parents were already there, waiting. His father rose as they approached the booth.
‘Hi, Victoria,’ he said, reaching for her shoulders and kissing her on the cheek as if they were already father-in-law and daughter-in-law.
Bart’s mother remained seated, looking up at them. She sat stiffly, her eyes lit with defiance. It was as if she had an invisible electric fence around her. Bart moved quickly to kiss her and then made what sounded like a formal, even awkward introduction.
‘Mother, this is Victoria Myers.’
‘I think I know she’s Victoria Myers,’ his mother said. She looked at her husband. It was clear that they had discussed and decided exactly how they would behave. ‘Please join us. I imagine there’s a great deal to discuss.’
‘Thank you,’ Victoria said. She and Bart would sit opposite his parents, she directly opposite Florence Stonefield. They had been here a while. Both had martinis.
‘I was thinking we’d have a bottle of champagne,’ his father said. Something he read in Victoria’s face told him he had nothing to fear concerning his indiscretion.
‘Great,’ Bart said. ‘Thanks.’
‘I’m not going to drink this martini and then a glass of champagne,’ his mother said.
‘Oh, we’ll handle the bottle of champagne, I’m sure. Won’t we, Victoria?’
‘We’ll make an effort,’ she said and he laughed. Bart smiled, surprised at how cool she was being.
John Stonefield ordered the champagne and sat back. ‘So, we’re all ears,’ he said.
‘What do you think of the ring I chose, Mother?’ he asked.
‘I think I already told you. It’s very nice, Bart.’
Victoria looked at him. So he had told her. She must have had a reaction, a reaction he obviously didn’t want to describe.
‘I suppose Bart’s told you about our plans for our dealerships,’ John said. The champagne was brought to the table and the waiter and the busboy set up the glasses quickly.
‘None for me,’ Bart’s mother said. She pushed the glass away.
The busboy reached out and took it back as if he was picking up something in the ocean and feared a shark might bite off his hand.
‘He did,’ Victoria said. ‘It sounds very exciting.’
‘First really big foreign car dealership in the county,’ John declared. ‘It’s like landing at Normandy.’
‘There are a few thousand American soldiers who might be upset with that analogy,’ Florence Stonefield quipped.
‘We’re not going to actually use that, Mom,’ Bart said. ‘It’s just a figure of speech.’
‘Never mind,’ John said. He lifted his glass of champagne. ‘To the newest Stonefield couple in America.’
The three clinked glasses. Victoria sipped her champagne and watched Florence take what looked more like a gulp of her martini.
‘Well, good news,’ Bart began as the waiter brought them the menus. ‘Victoria’s parents have already begun looking at wedding venues and have found a great one for our purposes. The Olympic.’
His mother sat back, her mouth falling open like the mouth of an actress in an over-the-top silent movie.
‘How long have they known about this?’ she asked.
‘What? A day or so?’ Bart asked Victoria.
‘About,’ she said. ‘My mother originated the saying, A rolling stone gathers no moss,’ she said with pride.
‘That’s for sure,’ John said. He continued to look delighted. Victoria couldn’t help liking him, despite what she knew. Another voice inside her was defending him, especially now that she was facing his wife. She almost justified adultery.
‘The Olympic. Why? We could get the Concord or Grossingers for sure,’ Florence Stonefield said when she regained her composure. ‘We should at least discuss it. That’s the way things are done.’
‘We want it to be as soon as possible and they’re available immediately after Labor Day,’ Bart said.
‘After Labor Day? You’re talking about less than six weeks – if that. People are supposed to be given decent notice. Some will come from out of the state.’
‘We don’t want it to be that big an affair,’ Bart said. ‘Smaller is cozier.’
‘How small?’ his mother demanded. Both Bart and Victoria nearly smiled. First, she was obviously against the marriage and now she was worried it wouldn’t be big enough to fit the image she had of the Stonefields.
‘We thought maybe two, two fifty,’ Bart replied.
‘Each?’
‘No, Mom, total.’
‘Ridiculous. We’ll insult so many people.’
‘We can cull out those who aren’t true friends and important enough relations,’ he said softly.
‘The bride’s parents handle the wedding,’ John Stonefield added, happy most of the work would be done by someone else. ‘We can have a helluva rehearsal dinner. I’ll take over this entire restaurant. There’s no better place for it.’
Florence Stonefield’s eyes electrified as a thought shot through her with lightning speed. She fixed her gaze on Victoria like a pin spotlight. ‘Are you pregnant?’ she demanded.
The ceiling could have fallen on the table with less of a wham.
The waiter approached them and Florence turned on him. ‘Not yet,’ she snapped and looked at Bart and Victoria.
Bart nudged her with his knee.
Victoria took a deep breath and leaned forward. ‘Only with my love for your son, Mrs Stonefield,’ she replied.
There was a pause, a true pregnant moment, and then John Stonefield roared. He signaled for the waiter.
And the dinner officially began.
Just like most young women her age, Victoria had done her homework when it came to weddings. From time to time, when she was fantasizing about falling in love and marrying, she had perused magazines and read articles. She had never had a detailed discussion about it with her mother, but occasionally she had brought up one wedding concept or another to hear her opinion. She would never confess it, but soon after she and Bart had begun their second week of dating, she even began looking at wedding dresses. That was why she had been somewhat disappointed with his initial idea of eloping. He had promised a ceremony later, but her parents’ reactions gave her the chance to revisit her dreams.
Despite her mood, Florence Stonefield was impressed with Victoria’s knowledge about flowers, wedding music, food and even invitations. She kept shaking her head, now wondering just how long this romance had gone on. Had her son been seeing Victoria Myers secretly for months and months?
Reluctantly, she had to admit that Victoria sounded quite organized. She didn’t hide her surprise and before their dinner ended – after Gino Dante presented them with a special chocolate swirl angel food cake, glazed with chocolate syrup – she got in her sharp dig, a comment through a question that left no doubt as to her reason for being unhappy about her son’s choice.
‘Despite how quickly this is all happening and the preparations you have done,’ she began, ‘a wedding still imposes great pressure and tension on any prospective bride. Is your therapy complete? Are you in a good place for this big life-changing decision? I’m asking only out of concern for you, dear,’ she added with as plastic a smile as Victoria had ever seen.
Both Bart and his father looked as if they were holding their breath.
‘Bart has made that question unnecessary,’ Victoria said. She looked at his father, too. ‘None of us underestimates the restorative power of sincere love.’
Florence Stonefield sank with defeat and looked down as John called for the bill. He and Florence remained behind after the obligatory thank yous and quick kisses good night. Victoria told Bart’s mother that her mother would be calling her the next day.
Bart took her hand. They made their way out of the restaurant, navigating good luck wishes from other local people who had inquired about the elaborate dinner and learned about the occasion.
They burst out of the restaurant and both paused to take a breath.
‘My God,’ Bart said. ‘You were fantastic.’
‘I was, wasn’t I?’ she replied, laughing, and then stepped forward with him toward his car, feeling more confident about her future than she had ever thought possible.
She was glad she had come home.