“Hello, my fair lady.”
“Hi Rhys! What are you doing here? Why aren’t you in London with your family?”
“I missed you. We haven’t been apart the entire month and suddenly, you’re thousands of miles away. Come back to London with me.”
Rhys Thane Kent—Twenty-two. Six-four. Soon-to-be graduate student. Brown hair. Deep, dark brown eyes. Perfect nose. Kissable lips. Face as handsome as a movie star. Manners to rival any Jane Austen hero. He personified perfection.
Then there’s me. Delilah Rose Taylor—Twenty-two. Five-nine. Soon-to-be Mrs. Kent. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Slightly pug nose. Way too much pout in my lips. Face as ordinary as any blue-blooded American. Passable manners. I was average at best.
We met at a party and it was absolute love at first sight. We’d been inseparable since. Of course we parted at the end of the night, but aside from sleep time, Rhys had been by my side.
As a present from my parents, I traveled to London with my cousin Ellie after I graduated from college. We decided to visit our great-grandmother’s home in Belgravia. Since her passing, there was a constant flurry of Reids living there, and now it was finally our turn. To clarify, I was a Taylor, but since Mother was a Reid, and since we lived on the cul-de-sac, I was also a Reid.
Of the copious Reids, my favorite was my cousin Elizabeth. Not only was she brilliant and my best friend, she also encouraged our courtship from the moment Rhys and I met. Though she never said it aloud, Ellie did this because she was broken-hearted from her last relationship. She hasn’t told us why she and her boyfriend broke off their five-month relationship, but there was too much sadness underneath her beautiful face.
Before I explain the rest of the cul-de-sac fam, I need to describe my soon-to-be fam. Rhys and I both come from large, tight-knit families. Similar to my own situation, Rhys only has brothers. The love of my life is the baby of five boys. His oldest brother, Ainsley, age thirty-four, is the family lawyer. The next brother, Beaumont, age thirty, is the family doctor. Gerhardt, age twenty-seven, is the family accountant. Ronald, age twenty-five, is the family entrepreneur, and my Rhys is the family baby. He just finished his undergraduate degree at St. Andrews University and is headed to a graduate program at Oxford. With our pending marriage, he thought he might put his studies on hold so we could travel the world our first year as a married couple.
“You know I can’t head back there yet. My parents haven’t given their blessing.”
“Were you serious about your family rules?” I nodded yes. “Our engagement won’t be valid unless your parents and relatives all vote me in to your family?”
“I’m afraid so, Rhys. Daddy says you’ve yet to fill out the ‘May I Date Your Daughter?’ application.”
Rhys started laughing and I could do nothing but put my head down. Mortified, frustrated, and feeling bad that Rhys got involved with a crazy family like mine, I had nothing to say.
My fiancé comforted me by wrapping his long arms around my body. “I think I love your family already. They have a great sense of humor, Lilah. Where’s this application? I’ll fill it out right away if that’s going to get me one step closer to marrying you, my fair lady.”
Before introducing the family that most of you are all familiar with, I need to explain the many ludicrous happenings since my parents’ generation settled down. Obviously, they had too much time on their hands once we, the children, grew up. My parents, my uncles, and even my sweet aunts, became a cohesive force in making our lives as difficult as possible.
Here is one of the impossible, asinine, far-fetched rules the “adults” invented to make us miserable. Rule #1: No person is allowed to marry without the approval of the family. When they say family, that means the entire family. My cousins and I are unsure when the rule came into existence, but it states that the family would take a vote approving or disapproving each and every marriageable candidate. Only my parents’ generation and the generation before them voted. If there was even one dissent, the marriage was off.
Who does that???
So technically, even though Rhys proposed and I accepted, we had not passed the final test. Marrying into the Reid family was more difficult than gaining admission into Stanford University. The ridiculous meter of my family was off the charts at times.
Since I am the first to get engaged in my family, even though I have older cousins like James and Elizabeth, who are seven years older than I am, I am the first to be subjected to such cruelty.
OMG! I could do nothing other than sigh. When I complained about this rule to my mom, all she could say was, “It’s not the end of the world, Lilah,” Mom “comforted” with a laugh.
Then Dad added, with a smirk of course, “Ah Lilah, once you think you’ve convinced us, you can give the same spiel to Uncle Jake and Aunt Emily, Uncle Max and Aunt Jane, Uncle Nick and Aunt Bee, Uncle—”
That’s when I lost it and cut off my father with a very loud, “I get it! Never mind. Rhys and I are going to elope.”
“You know the rule about elopement,” Dad warned. Why didn’t it surprise me that there was another rule? I think my parents’ generation had weekly meetings on perfecting the art of driving their children crazy.
Mom and Dad both recited, “Rule #2: If you elope, you will no longer be part of the Reid Family. No more cul-de-sac, no more family, no more love, no more life, no more nothing!”
“Do you all go around repeating these rules to one another so you don’t forget? Who comes up with these stupid ideas?” I had asked in frustration.
“Just remember that Rhys never filled out a ‘May I Date Your Daughter?’ application. Remind him that your uncles and I have to approve the application before we can even start talking marriage.” Dad said as he and Mom laughed at my expense. The ‘May I Date Your Daughter’ application was a rule that wasn’t an official rule. UGH!
The memory of that conversation made me wince again. Rhys was a patient man to indulge all of us. “You’re so good to me, Rhys. The past month has been a dream.”
“For me too, Lilah. I love every last thing about you.”
Our tender moment was broken up by my twin brothers who exclaimed, “Why don’t you ‘love every last thing’ about our sister with your hands off!” That was a demand, not a request.
I supposed since I described Rhys’ family, it was time to explain mine. I’ll start with my brothers. Henry Jake Taylor and Scott Jamison Taylor, ages twenty-six, almost twenty-seven, med students, single, handsome as they come, if I were to admit such a thing. Henry was named after Grandpa Henry because of their internal and external similarities. The same went for Scott. Both drove me nuts while we were growing up, and now that I was engaged, their alpha-male, predatory instincts had kicked into overdrive. Their over-protectiveness was going to drive me nuts all over again.
Then there was my younger brother, DJ, short for Donovan Jr. I couldn’t exactly call him an “oops” baby; he, along with Jacob, Maxine, and Nicolette, all shared the same birthdate. More on the rest of them, later. At age sixteen, he was adorable and terribly sweet. He loved our mother and resembled our father. According to Mom, random girls got “lost” on the cul-de-sac, regularly.
As for the rest of my cousins on this block, there were James and Elizabeth, twenty-eight, and both heart surgeons. JR, twenty-seven, a secret government agent—none of us really knows what he does. Ian, twenty-six, a world-traveler, if that was a job. Last, but not least, the Reid “oops” child, Jacob, sixteen and a sophomore in high school. Jacob looked eerily like Uncle Jake.
Uncle Max and Auntie Jane’s offspring were Roland, twenty-four, Robert, twenty-three, Joshua, twenty-two, and Maxine, sixteen. Roland and Robert looked like the Davis side of the family. Joshua looked like a Reid. Maxine—we had no idea where she came from with her red hair and green eyes. I was told Great-grandpa Jerry had some Irish and Scottish blood in him. Apparently, Great-grandma Estelle, or Gigi as we used to call her, said Maxie was a throw-way-way-way-back. She, at age sixteen, had the boys in a frenzy with her good looks and feisty personality. There was a constant smile on Uncle Max’s face when his daughter was nearby.
About fourteen years ago, after Gigi and Riri, Great-grandpa Harry’s nickname, passed away, Granduncle Bobby and Grandaunt Sandy moved into their guest house and convinced Uncle Nick and Aunt Bee to bring their brood into the main house. Nicholas Aidan, or Nicky Jr., at age twenty-two was our cul-de-sac genius. He had invented, patented, and sold some anti-aging serum, and made a fortune already. He was also our only college dropout. No matter how much Auntie Bee coaxed him into finishing his degree, he wouldn’t cave. He marched to his own beat. Nathan, seventeen, and Nicolette, sixteen, were still in high school and lived quiet lives. It was hard to compete with a genius brother who made more money with one invention than the entire Reid Place combined.
Lastly, there were our English cousins who visited as often as they could, but that was never enough. We adored Uncle Michael and Aunt Chloe along with Noelle, sixteen, Lisette, fifteen, Harrison, thirteen, and MJ, Michael Jr., twelve. From time to time, Uncle Ron and Aunt Ruby would visit with Sarabeth and Elizabeth, seventeen and fifteen, and add to our fun.
These were just the cousins who lived on the cul-de-sac. Including our English cousins, there were twenty-two of us. When we all gathered for holidays, there were almost one-hundred fifty Reids, Davises, Taylors, and Benningtons. It was absolute chaos, but so much fun! I loved our family.
Back to the issue at hand. Rhys didn’t give in to my brothers’ commands, but he also didn’t fight them. “Hello. I’m Rhys Kent,” he said with one hand out to shake my brothers’ hands and with one possessive hand around my waist.
“I’m Henry.”
“I’m Scott.”
Both were “cordial.”
“Lilah’s told me a lot about both of you. Where’s DJ?”
“He’s in summer school. He should be home soon,” I informed my fiancé. “Mom and Dad are home. You ready to meet them?”
“Of course!” He answered with a kiss to the top of my head. My brothers didn’t look pleased.
I led Rhys into my parents’ study, nervous about what was to happen. My parents didn’t approve of our engagement, and he knew this fact. This was probably why he was here.
“Are you sure you want to meet them now?”
“I can’t wait to meet them!”
I couldn’t share in his confidence.