Darla’s smile never reached her eyes. We were just discussing the wedding photographer. I’ve scheduled meetings with three options next week.
Three. Clayton frowned. Delaney and I already booked someone.
Jack Reasy did my buddy Warren’s wedding last year. A look passed between mother and daughter. Darla’s eyebrows arched slightly.
Sweetie, Delaney said, placing a hand on his arm. Mom found someone who’s done spreads for Portland Monthly. His work is amazing and costs triple what we budgeted, Clayton pointed out.
Silas chuckled, swirling wine in his glass. Consider it our gift. When you have a once-in-a-lifetime event, you don’t pinch pennies.
It’s not about pinching pennies, Clayton said quietly. It’s about sticking to what we agreed on. Well, Darla interjected, her tone sugar-coated steel.
Sometimes agreements need to evolve. I’m sure your mother taught you to be adaptable. Clayton’s knuckles whitened around his fork.
He felt Delaney tense beside him. My mother taught me that your word is your bond, he replied, keeping his voice level. But yes, she was adaptable.
Had to be, raising a kid alone after my father split. An uncomfortable silence fell. Delaney jumped in, her voice artificially bright.
The floor is called today. The peonies are going to be perfect. Dinner progressed with surface-level pleasantries, but the undercurrent of tension remained.
Every comment from Darla seemed designed to subtly remind Clayton of his place below theirs. Silas dominated conversation with stories about business connections and country club politics. A S dessert was served.
Silas turned to Clayton. So, have you thought more about my offer? The shipping department could use someone with your mechanical aptitude. It wasn’t the first time the offer had been extended.
A token position at Brock Freight that would effectively put Clayton under Silas’ thumb. I appreciate it, Clayton said, but I’m happy where I am. 20 years in the same field builds a reputation.
That matters in my line of work. But surely there’s no room for advancement in machining, Darla said, the words sounding like a disease in her mouth. Clayton met her gaze directly.
I’m lead supervisor now. Next step is operations manager when Bill retires next year. The pay’s competitive, and I still get to work with my hands.
How quaint, Darla murmured. Delaney squeezed his knee under the table a silent plea for peace. Later that night, back at his house, Clayton watched Delaney remove her makeup at his bathroom sink.
This had become their routine three nights at his place, for at her downtown apartment. The disparity in their living situations seemed more pronounced tonight. Your mom really doesn’t like me, he observed.
Delaney sighed, patting her face dry with a towel. She’s just protective and old-fashioned about certain things. Certain things like men who work with their hands for a living.
She turned to face him, leaning against the counter. It’s not personal, Clay. They’re just used to a different world.
And you. He asked a question that had been gnawing at him. Are you sure this is what you want? A life with someone from a different world? Delaney crossed to where he sat on the edge of the bed.
She straddled his lap, draping her arms around his neck. I love you, she said, looking into his eyes. You’re real in a way no one in my parents’ circle is.
You say what you mean. You don’t play games. She kissed him softly.
That’s why I said yes when you proposed. Clayton wrapped his arms around her waist, wanting to believe her. When they were alone like this, it was easy to forget the doubt that crept in during events like tonight’s dinner.
I love you too, he said, and he meant it despite the warning bells that sometimes rang in the back of his mind. The next day, Clayton met Warren easily at their usual spot and no frills bar called the Rusty Nail that had been serving the working class of Eugene for decades. They sat in a corner booth, cold beers in front of them, the familiar sounds of pool balls clacking and classic rock playing in the background.
Warren, a construction foreman with arms like tree trunks and a perpetual five o’clock shadow, studied Clayton’s face. Another fun night with the in-laws from hell, Clayton shook his head ruefully. There’s something else.
So why are you doing this? Warren asked bluntly. And don’t give me that love crap. I’ve known you since we were knocking each other’s teeth out in Little League.
Something doesn’t add up. Clayton took a long pull from his beer before answering. When it’s just Delaney and me, it’s good.
Really good. She’s not like them. Bullshit, Warren snorted.
Apple doesn’t fall that far from the tree, Clay. She might be playing nice now, but give it time. You’ll be wearing custom suits and joining the country club before you know it.
It’s not like that. No. Warren leaned forward.
Then why is the wedding suddenly a three-ring circus? Why she let her mother run rush-od over everything you two supposedly agreed on? Clayton had no good answer. You sure you want to sign up for life with this circus, Clay? Warren asked, his concern evident. Once those papers are signed, you’re in it.
Their family drama becomes your drama. She makes me happy, Clayton said finally. That counts for something.
Warren raised his hands in surrender. Your life, your choice. Just remember, when someone shows you who they really are, believe them the first time.
They changed the subject, talking about the Ducks’ chances in the upcoming football season. But Warren’s warning lingered in Clayton’s mind. The weeks passed, and Clayton found himself becoming increasingly sidelined in his own wedding plans.
What had started as a ceremony with 70 guests had ballooned to over 200, most of whom Clayton had never met. The venue changed from a rustic winery to the Eugene Country Club. The budget doubled, then tripled.
It’s just one day, Delaney would say whenever he objected. Don’t you want to be perfect? Perfect, Clayton realized, was code for meeting Darla Brock standards. One Saturday, he found himself trapped in a suit fitting while Delaney and her mother critiqued every aspect of his appearance.