I left lunch with Sam the following Monday and went to the house for a meeting with Angus, Adele and the Brockton women. We were to decide on invitations that afternoon. The printers were waiting and it could take up to three weeks depending on the style chosen. Personally, I didn’t see the need for a full on deputation to choose the invites, I would’ve been just as happy with something generic but it seemed that I’d been outvoted in my sleep. Sam and I were to have some swanky custom things befitting our place in society or some such. Whatever. I’d go along with it to keep the peace. No matter how perfect I wanted our wedding to be, there were more important things in life than a few bits of paper. And if me backing down brought me a bit closer to being liked by Sam’s mother and sister, I’d do it; within reason, of course. I wasn’t willing to agree to any old thing but I was willing to compromise. I just prayed they were.
I pulled the car into the driveway of Adele and Brian’s and waited for what seemed like an eternity for the automatic gate to open. Normally, Adele left it open when the children were at school but after discovering a photographer dangling from a tree outside the window the previous day, she’d decided it was time to crack down on security, hence the shut gates. My fingers drummed anxiously on the steering wheel as I waited. If only this were over. It was bad enough having people think I was Australia’s new Princess Mary but now I had the hatred of the in-laws to deal with too and I wasn’t looking forward to an afternoon of daggered looks across the dining table. My emotions were raw enough from the events of the party.
Sam had assured me he’d spoken to his mother and there’d be no more mean words. He’d said his mother and Amanda were feeling threatened because I was ‘taking him away’ from them and that it wasn’t that they disliked me ~ how could they when they didn’t know me ~ but rather that they didn’t trust me because of the previous girls Sam had been involved with. I wasn’t upset. I didn’t like the look of Amanda either.
“I wish Amanda would’ve got to know me before she started spreading rumours about the town,” I’d told him. “It’s not nice to have people looking at me like I’m only after your money.”
Indeed, that morning, a reporter had asked me to comment on that very thing as I went to get in the car.
“You can see her point of view, though, can’t you? I’ve been in two failed relationships that, in the end, were about money. Amanda’s only acting the overprotective twin. It’s no more than I’d do for her.”
“Or she thinks I’m not good enough for you. I saw the disdain, Sam. It was written all over her face.”
There, I’d said it. Sam’s sister didn’t like me and we both knew why.
“She’s not like that.”
“Oh, come on.”
“She wants me to be happy.”
“And being with me won’t make you happy?”
Sam pulled me in for a cuddle. His lips came down to kiss the nape of my neck. He knew how to make me quiver. “Of course, it will. I’d never have proposed if I thought you weren’t the one. You know that. Money isn’t an issue, so let’s not fight over it.”
“Hmm.”
“Will you try to be nice to her?”
I’d looked up into his face; unsure as to how I’d gone from being the victim to the one who had to back down. “In case you’ve forgotten I didn’t do anything. She was the one who attacked me.”
“And she assures me it won’t happen again. I’ve told her how wonderful you are. She just needs to see it. She’ll be on her best behaviour from now.”
It was a sweet gesture and while I trusted Sam had done his best I was under no illusions that Amanda would behave so I’d enlisted help of my own in the form of Mel, who I noticed had arrived and was getting out of her car in front of me. There was no way that Amanda cow could be mean to me again with Mel around. Not if she wanted to leave the house with her hair extensions in tact.
Everyone was waiting at the table in the family room when Mel and I walked in. Angus had taken the head and was fussing over a rather pretty woman who sat next to him wearing a floaty, printed dress. Her fair hair hung over her shoulder in a messy ponytail that was held in place with pink ribbon. She had a glow about her cheeks that was so radiant I wanted to ask her where she got her blusher. Adele sat between them, Amanda and Patricia, who looked stonier than the headstones in Karrakatta Cemetery.
Determined not to let them get to me, I gave my voice a particularly upbeat tone. “Hi everyone, we’re not late, are we?”
Adele smiled. “Of course not, darling. Patty and I had lunch. It seemed easier for her to come straight here afterwards. And you’ve brought …”
Mel pulled out two chairs on the other side of the table and we sat down.
“Bridesmaid number two ~ Melanie,” she said, a naughty twinkle in her eye. She pressed her knee reassuringly against mine under the table. “Now, can we get a wriggle on? I’ve only got an hour before I have to be back at the office. If I want to make partner by the age of thirty I have to keep my billable hours up or old man Harris blows a fucking gasket.”
Patricia gasped.
Amanda almost fell off her chair.
This was what they needed. A good dose of Mel.
“Mel’s a junior partner at Freeman and Freeman. She specialises in divorces, pre-nups and stuff.”
Patricia sat forward, alert. “That reminds me, Millie, you’ll need to make an appointment to see the family solicitors with Sam. They have some documents drawn up for you.”
“You want me to sign a pre-nup?” It was confirmed. They hated me.
“It’s a formality.”
“As a member of Millie’s legal team, I should inform you she won’t be signing anything until I’ve looked it over first. Though why she should even have to is beyond me. Its not like she’s going to skip the fucking country with Sam’s cash. She doesn’t even like money. And quite frankly, you should be happy she’s marrying your son. No one else in their right mind would. He’s an absolute arse at times.” Hands locked on the table in front of her, Mel glared across the expanse of table at Patricia who looked as if she were going to have a minor coronary.
I tried to dispel the disbelief echoing in my head. Team of lawyers? I never knew I had one lawyer, let alone a team. All I’d wanted was someone on my side of the table so I didn’t end up with some heinous looking wedding invitations. Mel was right though. I wasn’t overly fussed about the material things ~ well, apart from my Pandora bracelet and glitter sandals. And with the exception of my wedding day, I was quite happy wearing whatever. Sam’s engagement ring was the most expensive thing I owned.
“Are you insinuating my son has some sort of personality flaw?”
“I’m not insinuating anything. Sam, bless his hot little heart, is a Class A bastard. Thank God for Millie. She’s the only one able to keep him in line. We used to have dreadful trouble with him at the club before she came along.”
Patricia’s face went a funny shade of puce.
Adele looked at the table.
The invitation lady examined a few samples.
“Do we have to listen to this, Mum?” Amanda demanded. “I mean, seriously. I think this ridiculousness has gone on long enough. There’s no way she can marry Sam.”
Mel snorted. “You’d rather he marry that friend of yours? Chloe? Wasn’t she up on some sort of drug charge not long ago?”
“How did you know that?”
“I read.”
“They didn’t belong to her. It was a misunderstanding.”
“I believe it always is until you get to rehab.”
Oh, this was priceless. And even better, there was no way Patricia could disapprove of Melanie as a bridesmaid ~ not after she’d railroaded me into having her.
Angus stood up. He could see things were getting a little heated. With a three swift claps, he brought the meeting to order.
“So ladies, let me introduce you to Penelope Brewster. She’s the ‘go to’ girl for custom wedding stationary. She’s managed to squeeze us in but we have to make a decision today as the stationary is hand made.”
Penelope’s mouth tugged into a smile and the introduction, revealing a set of rather pointy, extremely white teeth that instantly altered her appearance from pretty to prehistoric budgie. “I’ve brought a few samples. And, my portfolio has shots of others you may like.”
“Penelope has assured me she’s able to reproduce anything you see today in the timeframe. And let’s face it every wedding should be announced with a certain degree of fanfare, so why not have the best if we can?” Angus’s hand swept along the table, revealing some of the most harebrained ideas for wedding invitations I’d ever seen ~ jester hats, bunches of paper flowers, three freakin’ blind mice. There wasn’t a normal old scroll or card in sight.
“Definitely,” agreed Patricia.
“Only the best for Millie and Sam,” echoed Adele.
Amanda pouted and sat back on her seat, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Now, Millie, I know you wanted simple and seeing as we’re going for a black and white theme maybe we could have some thing like this? A replica of this design was used by Pandora in the last series of the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills.”
I had no idea who he was talking about but the girl had either no taste or way too much money. Angus had reached across the table and was holding up a square golden box about thirty centimetres across, the lid of which was smothered in pink rosebuds hot-glued in orderly lines. With a flourish, he took the lid from the box and revealed a bed of pink satiny fabric from which he plucked the invitation. It was a white silk covered card printed with embossed silver font.
“Of course, we’d do yours in a black satin box with white roses and black lining.”
My eyes were like stalks popping out of my head. I could feel them bulging unnaturally.
“You don’t like it?”
“It’s… it’s…..” God, I had no idea what to say. It sounded more like a funeral than a wedding.
“It’s fucking disgusting. If Millie delivered that to the boys from the club they’d laugh in her face. I don’t care who designed it,” Mel answered.
“I beg your pardon,” Patricia said.
“You heard me. It’s hideous. What else have you got, Angus? I can only assume you’re working up to the good stuff.”
Penelope produced a smaller cube shape, very simple in design though still in the pink theme. “I can make it in any colour you like,” she offered.
“That could work,” Mel whispered to me. “You could have cream with black ribbon.”
I nodded. It was stylish. Classy. And I’d never seen an invitation like it though God knows how it would go through the post. I posed the question.
“The invitations will be delivered by courier,” Angus explained. “Patricia’s contracted a company to do it.”
Oh.
“Does my mother know about this?” I asked, because I was sure my father would have a nervous break down when he found out about the extra cost.
“Kent and I are paying,” Patricia said. “We’ve spoken to your parents. There’s no question that we won’t be contributing to give you and Sam the perfect day. The onus shouldn’t fall completely on your family.”
“Thank you. That’s very kind of you.” I wanted to say something more but frankly I was so shocked I was unable. And anyway, I was sure she was only doing it for the social kudos. It had nothing to do with Sam and I.
“I think the interior will seal the deal.” Angus opened the box. A built in mp3 began to warble a bad version of ‘The Power of Love’ as a pink butterfly flew out and around the table. He tilted the box to reveal the invitation card. “Of course, the butterfly would be colour co-coordinated too.”
“No.”
“No, you don’t want it colour coordinated?” Adele asked.
“No, I don’t want a butterfly. It’s ridiculous. We aren’t going to a garden show. And you can scrap the music, too.”
“But it’s Celine Dion.”
“Sam hates Celine Dion. He’d strangle me. What happened to good old invitations in an envelope? Plain, quality parchment or something?”
“But they’re so last year…. And that Jennings cow is watching our every move.”
I was starting to lose my cool. Again. I drew in a breath letting it out as slowly as I could, knowing it was pointless. They weren’t going to listen. “I don’t care if she’s on the lawn doing karaoke to LMFAO. I want something plain and simple. It’s to be white or cream with black font and some ribbon or something.”
“Diva,” Amanda muttered.
“Watch yourself,” Mel replied. “And remember whose wedding this is.”
“I can hardly forget, now can I?”
“Show us something else,” Mel said, ignoring her.
After an hour the table was littered with rejects ~ silver, gold, sequined, even balloons ~ some of the examples were so outlandish I was almost reduced to tears. I thought we’d exhausted every possibility until Penelope pulled something from a box at her feet. It was quite unlike anything else she’d shown us.
“This was one of my first designs. I don’t use it much any more. The brides all seem to want something flashier but I could modify it for you if you like it.” She held up a small cream rectangle embossed with gold that sat in a flat satin lined box. It was so thin and unpretentious; we’d even be able to send it by regular mail.
A smile bent my lips for the first time that afternoon. Mel and I nodded to each other.
“Can I pick the font? And the satin colour?” I looked over at Penelope.
“Yes. I could put some…”
“NO!” I interrupted her. “I want it like that.”
Amanda raised her eyebrows at her mother and muttered, “I told you. No taste. ”
Patricia turned to Penelope, giving her a look I couldn’t decipher.
“What about…?” Penelope attempted. I could see she was caught between wanting to please me and giving some satisfaction to Patricia.
“No,” Mel repeated. “Jesus, are you people deaf?”
Angus sat down. He pulled the invitation box towards him and studied it. “I think this could work,” he said to Patricia. “We can use the black silk interior and stamp the initials of the bride and groom on the top of the box, like so.” He scribbled some rather fancy letters in a crest shape onto a piece of paper. “Maybe in gold?”
“Yes. That’d be nice. In fact, it’s perfect,” I smiled. At last. Success.
Mel picked up her handbag and pulled her car keys from inside. “Well, now that that’s sorted, I must dash. I’ll see you on the weekend, Millie.”
I stood up to walk her to the door. “Thanks for coming to help.”
“It’s fine. Only a bitch knows how to handle a bitch. You would’ve been eaten alive without me. And don’t you go signing anything either. I meant what I said about that pre-nup.”
I held the front door open and waved her off down the drive. “Thanks again. Mel. You’re a gem.”
“Pleasure, Babe. Pleasure.”
“Oh, Mel?”
“Hmm?”
“Since when did I have a legal team?”
“Since Johnny and I decided over cocktails the other night that we’d best arm you for a fight. You’re dealing with the big boys now. You’ve got to get in the game.”
But it wasn’t a game. It was my life.
*****
With the next couple of hours free ~ well, until I had to start the school run for Adele ~ I decided to stop in at The Lederhosen and see how Alex was doing. She’d seemed a little put out that I hadn’t included her in the picking of invitations. Even though she was working and wouldn’t have been able to come anyway, my reasoning had fallen on deaf ears. Alex seemed to think that dealing with a large Greek family gave her the ability to mediate on any scale. I don’t think she’d ever dealt with the likes of Patricia and Amanda though.
When I got to the bar, she was finishing the lunch shift. She was standing behind the servery, putting away the last of the cutlery.
“Hey,” I slung my shoulder bag down onto the counter.
“D’you mind? I’ve just wiped that.”
“Sorry.” I picked up my bag and put it on the carpet at my feet. Clearly, she was still miffed. “We picked the invitations. You should have seen the things they wanted us to have. Oh. My. God. Insane. There was this one box thing….”
Alex gathered a load of dry forks and turned away from me. “Look, I’m super busy. Can we talk about this later?”
“Um, sure. I guess. I just thought….”
“Sam’s out in the bar, why don’t you go and tell him?”
I have to admit I was a trifle hurt at the brush off. “Because we had lunch together two hours ago and I can’t talk weddings with him. He’s not interested in invitations.”
Alex swung back. “And you think I am?”
I walked around into the servery. I knew Alex was upset but this was over the top even for her. She was never the upset type. Wrapping my arms around her, I gave her my best hug.
“You’re crushing the prongs of the forks into my boob.” A small grin tilted the corner of her mouth.
“Sorry,” I repeated, pulling away. “So, what’s wrong? Is it the invitations? ‘Cause you know I would have asked you if you weren’t working. You are the Maid of Honour.”
“Yeah. I know. I’m just… well, I got this email from Angus. She reached under the counter and rifled around in her bag, retrieving her iPhone. She opened her mail box and handed the phone to me. At the top of the inbox was a message titled ‘training sessions.’
“I mean, don’t you think this is taking the whole thing a bit far?” she asked. “I know I’m a bit overweight but I’ve lost five kilos since you asked me to be your bridesmaid. Now you want me to go to Personal Training? If this is what I have to do to be your friend, I’m not sure I want to be in the wedding any more.”
My eyes scanned the message. “Look, I didn’t know anything about this. God, I’m so sorry. I already told Angus that he wasn’t to mention anything to you about weight.”
“So you think I’m fat, too?”
“No. God, no. I was defending you against them. I would never demand you to get skinny for my wedding. I like you how you are and I told him that. If I was that shallow I’d never have asked you in the first place, would I?”
“I guess not.”
I handed the phone back to her. “I’ll call Angus right now and tell him to get off your back.”
“Don’t do that.”
“But I thought….”
“Yeah. So did I but when I read the rest of the letter, I realised the training thing’s free. I could never afford a personal trainer under normal circumstances but seeing as Sam’s mother’s paying, why not? And I do want to look nice in the photos, especially if I have to stand next to the Glam Brigade.”
I giggled and gave her a hug. That was my Alex. “Hey, do you want me to come with you? I wouldn’t mind toning up a bit and we could motivate each other. I’m such a sloth about exercise. And now I don’t work here anymore I have way too much time on my hands. The gym could be my new hiding place.”
“Mrs. Brockton that bad?”
“Amanda’s worse.”
I pulled my phone out of the pocket of my shorts and speed-dialled Angus to set it up. I could hear his cries of rejoice already. All I needed now was the stylist.