Chapter 3
XXXX
My mother stood in the doorway wearing Chanel and a wide, wolf-like smile. Kim Wilkins, even in her 60's, was a stunning woman. Her dark hair, though not as dark as mine and definitely not natural, was still soft and shiny, her dark eyes bright in a golden-hued face. We had nothing in common save the dark hair and the slim, almost skinny, figure. Still, I had bigger boobs than her. Point one to me.
"Ariana! Im so glad you could make it!"
I allowed her to give me a quick hug and a fierce kiss on the cheek. She turned to Michel and her smile, if possible, widened.
"Michel isn't it? And you're the lovely man who's made my daughter so happy these last few months aren't you. I've heard all about you of course." She hadn't, but I suppose it made her feel better to think she had some knowledge of her daughter's personal life.
Michel allowed her a kiss and a hug, and smiled so brightly I was sure his face would crack from the strain. "That would be me, Mrs Wilkins" he replied jollily, strategically placing an arm around my waist to ward off any further displays of affection.
My mother fluttered on a bit more. Oh, Michel, look how handsome you are. Oh, you didn't tell me he was in sales Ria! He wasn't, but it sounded good. Nice and rounded. I wasn't really entirely sure what Michel did for a living, though he tried again and again to explain it. I had a habit of zoning out every time he started on about his 'career'. Much like he had a habit of zoning out when I nagged him about clothes. Our responses to one-another were carefully automated and carelessly given.
But still, Sales was easy to remember, and easy to bluff. And I was already expecting the pained smile on his face at this remark so it didn't bother me too much.
Finally, my mother decided we'd suffered enough and led us inside, past a group of strangers ("Peter's friends. Bo-ring." I was told in a whisper), and towards a man who I noticed, with the acute relief of a drowner sighting a life-guard, was my father.
"Evan look! Ria's here! And her boyfriend Michel!"
My father, looking amused and tolerant, turned from his conversation with another elderly gentlemen I was sure I was supposed to know, and gave me a hug. It was a nice hug, warm, comforting, relaxing. Everything that my mother's whirlwind groping and grasping didn't quiet convey. She was so caught up in trying to be welcoming that she missed the mark completely and hurtled off towards painful.
My father was the opposite. He was just there. Steady and calm and with the kind of re-assuring wrinkles of a man who's seen the world and has found a place he's happy with to live out the rest of his life. He oozed confidence. Even Michel relaxed instantly in his presence.
"And how's my youngest daughter?" he asked me gently, looking at me with kind eyes. We left mum to finish her meet-and-greet rounds and he led us to a couch on the far side of the room where we could talk in peace. He made sure Michel and I were comfortable before taking the seat opposite us, and lighting a cigar.
"Want one?" he asked, offering the tin to Michel, who refused politely. Michel was always trying to quit smoking. I could practically see the drool seeping out the corners of his mouth at the thought of a cigar.
Dad shrugged and took a drag. "Well?" he asked me, raising a thick eyebrow.
I glanced quickly at my 'boyfriend'. "Life is good, dad, everything coming along fine. Everything's the same as always." Boring boring boring!
"Except for Michel," Dad stated, smiling at him, his eyes bright. Dad always liked to imagine his daughters happy, wherever they might be, and I knew he worried for my in New York. No doubt he was thrilled I wasn't alone anymore.
"Yes" I agreed uneasily. I'd always hated, more than anything, to lie to my father. I changed the subject quickly, "And how's the wedding coming along? I haven't seen Beth yet. Or Peter" Or Callum and bitch-face.
My father grimaced "Last time I saw those two they were on their way upstairs for a 'quick nap'. They've been gone for hours. Managed to avoid meeting all the guests that have arrived so far too. Your mothers determined not to disturb the them." He stubbed his cigar, shook his head sadly, "And the weddings fine. Though neither of them will admit it." Them, meaning mother and Bethany. "They're both so damn worried all the time about every single little thing. It doesn't make for quiet living."
He sighed and suddenly looked much older, as if this entire ordeal was something he could have gone without. "Tell you what, why don't you go say hi to Beth huh? Get her out of her self-imposed exile. I'll look After Michel here" he winked at me slyly and threw Michel a quick grin.
I looked over at him quickly, and he gave me a small nod. As much as I wanted to get meeting with Beth over and done with, I didn't want to leave him in the wolf den by himself. But he looked calmer, and as I left I saw dad move from his seat to the couch beside him.
Maybe it would do dad some good to have a bit of man-to-man conversation.
XXXX
