DISCLAIMER:SM owns Twilight, and the music belongs to the artists
No Fairy Tale Feeling
Music: Katy Perry – Not Like the Movies
APOV
"Look, all I'm saying is if you are going to be my wife then you need to at least try to get along with my mother! She's very important to me, Mary-Alice, and I will not stand for any disrespect towards her!"
"And all I'm saying is that she could at least stop being such a bitch to me for no good reason," I pause momentarily to gather my emotions, "Benjamin, sweetheart, I personally never had any issue with her to begin with but when you first introduced me to your mother she called me a heathen when I barely said 'hello' to the insolent woman! Now, please tell me what am I supposed to do when she verbally abuses me every day without a single cause?" I cross my arms, cock my hip and toss in a bitch brow for good measure. We had been going back and forth for over a half hour now but I refuse to back down because I know I'm not in the wrong on this one.
Benjamin mumbles some gibberish and leaves without another word which is fine with me. I really don't care that he is upset with me this time because his bitch of a mother started it. I was coming downstairs when I heard the two of them in the sitting room discussing me and our upcoming nuptials. I was essentially only mildly angry with my fiancé for trying to make decisions about our wedding without me but when I heard her bitching about cancelling the wedding altogether and slandering my good name by calling me a gold digging whore and a selfish spoiled brat, I thought I was gonna blow a gasket!
He didn't even defend me!
I stomped upstairs to my room and slammed the door not giving a damn if that clued them in on if I was listening. Feeling flustered and unsettled I dialed up my mother.
"Mary-Alice?"
"Hello, Mother. I have a bit of a problem with Benjamin and I needed someone to talk to." I say, remembering to pronounce every syllable in every word since Mother hates when I use my accent. She claims it makes me sound like a backwoods hillbilly.
"Oh darling what's happened? The wedding hasn't been cancelled has it? Mary-Alice Brandon, you'd better go fix whatever you did wrong right this instant!" Mother shrilly demands and my eyes begin to tear up.
"I didn't do anything wrong, Mother! I'm just really stressed out right about now and I'm at my wit's end! I don't know how to make him happy and myself happy in return." I sniffle letting the tears flow freely. She never thinks anything positively about me and I'm really starting to regret calling her.
"Make yourself happy - are you daft? Have I taught you nothing? You are not and will never be marrying for 'happiness'! No, the only thing that matters is if he can provide for you and your family, if he can give you a life of luxury that I-you… deserve! I tell you, your father would be rolling over in his grave right now if he knew you thought so little of yourself."
I let out a strangled sob because that seriously struck a nerve.
"I don't… I mean… I-I just…" I begin but I don't know what to say. She's right.
"I know what this is about. You're starting to become just like your sister and if you keep up with all of this foolishness I swear I will not hesitate to drop your ass from my family as well! I will not have another daughter make a fool of me do you hear me! Do not disappoint me!" She warned before she hung up.
"Yes ma'am." I whispered to the dial tone.
"Hey Mama Cheney, I was wonderin' if you'd like to accompany me to a wine tastin' this evenin'. It's pretty exclusive – invite only and I happen to have a plus one." I finish with a fake cheery smile.
Scoffing at how ridiculous this whole thing was I throw my hand mirror onto the plush chaise next to my bed. I had been practicing what to say to Mama Cheney for about an hour and a half now and I'm starting to feel more than a little ridiculous. After checking my makeup and hair and smoothing out my brand spanking new dress – courtesy of Benjamin's AMEX card – I was ready for battle.
About two hours later finds me sitting shotgun in the bucket seat in Mama Cheney's old jalopy of a truck. She declined my invitation suggesting instead that I attend brunch with her and a few other women from the church. I was immediately suspicious because she hadn't taken even a second to insult me first and she was being extremely…sweet. Safe to say I would be keeping an eye on my scones and coffee.
"I hope you don't mind but I have to make a quick stop before we go to the restaurant."
Instead of waiting for my reply, which I don't think she cared about anyway, she begins to hum and turns up the radio - which barely has any audible music through the static – but still effectively telling me conversation was out of the question.
When she stops the car it's at storage facility and she hops out without a word, sashaying towards the building. Much to my dismay the fashionista in me can't help but appraise her outfit choice, a purple and black tunic dress with nude pumps, pearl necklace and satin clutch - all of which are a major upgrade from her usual threadbare robe, tacky jumbo curlers and filthy slippers. I hate to admit it but the woman does clean up rather nicely.
Almost fifteen minutes later she walks out grinning to herself and pocketing what looks to be money into her cleavage.
What in the hell?
I snicker to myself, I always figured that the only way that woman could get some would be if there were money involved, I just never thought it would be her on the receiving end.
She rudely scares the heck out of me when she taps on the window breaking me out of my inner musings at her expense and tells me to get out of the car and while I'm more than a little wary I get out anyway and follow her to the back of the building where I presume the storage rooms are. Mama Cheney starts to hum again and suddenly it dawns on me. There are only two reasons why she would take me this way. She either sold me to some sicko-wacko-psycho or she purchased a soundproof unit and brought me here to kill me. Either way, they were both not in my favor.
"Uh, Mama Cheney? I don't know about this… I - I think I should go back to -" Before I can finish my sentence she spins around on her heels and eyes me murderously.
Oh, sugar-honey-iced-teeeea!
"Enough of that Mama Cheney nonsense, Alice. My name is Siobhan or Mrs. Cheney. Understood?" Too frightened to even think of making one of my usual snappy comebacks I nod furiously and continue to follow her to what may be my death.
We walk around for what feels like hours to my heel clad feet and I quickly forgot about my earlier fears because now I'm about ready to clobber Siobhan upside her head with my stiletto if she doesn't shut the hell up with that humming. Another corner and a few more storage units later we are finally at the one that apparently belongs to her. I watch her unlock the door and lift it up from my safe-place which is standing a few feet away just in case she tries something. I stretch on my toes and crane my neck to see a bit more inside of what could possibly be my final resting place and I see Mama Cheney yanking a tarp off of what is revealed to be a beautiful glossy cherry red convertible.
"Oh my word…" I find myself walking closer to the beautifully expensive machine, "this has got to be hands-down the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life!" unconsciously my hand reaches out to touch the hood but she smacks my hand away.
Bitch.
When I finally pull up to Il Terrazzo, pure unadulterated excitement courses through me and I have to keep myself from bouncing around and clapping like an idiot! Il Terrazzo was the most upscale establishment in all Arizona and if you were here it meant you were rolling in the green so I was excited if not a little embarrassed to be seen in this clunker. Siobhan had talked me into driving her car in case the women needed a lift home and now that I think about it I realize that the convertible could easily sit me and her two guests. I had been hoodwinked. I hid my face while getting out of the car and scurried out of the way of the valet who was eyeing the tin can on wheels with much distaste.
Siobhan was waiting for me by the door and wearing a smirk that I just wanted to smack off of her stupid wrinkly face. She gave the host our names and we followed him inside to find our party had already been seated and served two rounds of drinks. I politely said 'hello' and exchanged pleasantries with both women and immediately flagged down a waiter for a drink; I could tell already that I was surely going to need it in order to survive this brunch.
"So, Mary-Alice, Siobhan has been telling us about your and Ben's upcoming nuptials! Are you excited dear?" Asks the woman to my right. Barely managing to mask my irritation I smile sweetly and nod to Mrs. Daniel even though I feel like snarking off to her.
Keep it together old girl. This lady is crazier than a basket full of rabid possums.
Mrs. Catherine Daniel was truly a psychotic bitch and that was the least offensive thing you could say about her. She is as sweet as sweet potato pie but has a record longer than every criminal in the world combined. Ok, I'm exaggerating but the sad thing about that is only that I'm only slightly exaggerating. Mrs. Daniel had been arrested for domestic abuse, aggravated assault and lately there had been rumors of attempted murder.
Poor Mr. Daniel, I don't why he just won't divorce the woman instead of being a victim.
"Oh that's just wonderful dear! Absolutely wonderful!" Mrs. Daniel claps cheerfully.
"If you ask me I don't think it makes much sense why a pretty young thing like you would be interested in a scrawny little thing like Ben – no offense Siobhan darling" she pats Siobhan's hand condescendingly, "I guess you do take after your mother after all." Cackles the pasty witch in front of me, otherwise known as Margaret Flannigan.
Two words.
Alcoholic. Bitch.
"Oh come now Maggie, I don't think it's fair to judge my future daughter-in-law so harshly," Siobhan wraps her arm around me, "I'm sure she's well aware of the pre-nuptial agreement that I'm having my son's lawyers draw up, so I know she isn't in it for the money." She grins at me sardonically. "No, she's with is for the long haul because she loves my boy."
Tossing back the last of my non-alcoholic Reno Cocktail like it was the strong shot of bourbon I so desperately craved I excused myself to the ladies'.
Once inside the bathroom I bolted into the first stall I saw open and whipped out my cell to call Isabella. She was the only person I could really talk to and get a no-bullshit answer from. Of course calling Rosalie would get me the same result but I haven't been able to get ahold of her since last night.
"Hello? Earth to Alice!" Isabella snaps.
"Oh goodness! I'm sorry I guess I zoned out," I apologize, "but I need help here girl! I'm about three seconds from completely losin' my shit! I'm in way over my head and I'm trying my absolute best not to shank each of these harpies!"
"Ok first things first: Hello how are you? I'm fine thanks for asking. Yes I am having a wonderful afternoon so far, and yourself?"
"Bella, honey, I'm sorry but I don't have the patience to deal with your not so clever sarcasm, now will you hurry up and forgive me like we both know you will and just listen?" I huff.
"Where are you – are you in the bathroom or something? I keep hearing this weird echo," she asks.
Goddammit…
"YES! I am in a bathroom and if you would just shut the hell up for a second I could tell you why! Are you gonna let me talk now?" Hearing silence on the other end I continue to rant. "Benjamin's mama asked me out to brunch with her and a few women from the church and I accepted thinking it might be a good chance for us to get on better for my marriage's sake y'know? But ever since we stepped foot out of the house it's been thinly veiled insults here, and a dash of mind fuckery there! She talked me into driving her shitty pluck-pluck truck to Il Terrazzo, Bella, Il Terrazzo!" I screech, still seething about the embarrassment I felt. "And, you know, I've always given as good as I got with that woman but I swear… I just don't know what her problem is with me! I'm trying to bury the strife for at least one day but that woman just brings out the worst in me!"
"Alice I think you need to take a breather sweetheart." I scoff but do it anyway. "Good, now I want you to put your big girl panties on and go back out there and show her that you will not be easily defeated! I mean c'mon Alice – they are old women and they have you running for the hills? You're lucky you called me instead of Rose, she sure would have ripped your crybaby ass a new one." She said.
"I'm having brunch with Mrs. Daniel and Mrs. Flannigan." I state.
"Oh shit. Ok, new plan. Just smile and bite your tongue, I mean literally hard enough that you draw blood if you have to. Just keep your trap shut until you are far, far away from them."
I sigh, "I don't know if I can do this anymore though, Bella. I mean Benjamin is a nice guy but his mother is Satan in the flesh! Benjamin needs to find someone who can deal with his mama or someone that she likes because it's obviously not me. He won me over with all his wealth and extravagant presents but lost me with his twat of a mama. It looks like I might call the whole thing off after all." No matter what Mother says, I add internally.
"Honestly Alice… Maybe you aren't good for Ben and I think…. No, I KNOW that you know somewhere deep inside your mind that you aren't good for him. That's the real reason you're talking about ending it – admit it."
I don't say anything, I just hang up.
I open up a blank text and begin to text Benjamin.
I love you.
I stare at the message for the longest time until I finally delete it and cry.
A/N: Longest chapter! Please review :)
