Part Ten
Mary's chest felt tight, as though a boa constrictor was wrapped around her rib cage, crushing her with every attempted breath. Her anxiety must have shown because Matthew immediately took her hand as she let out a slow breath.
"It'll be fine," her murmured giving her hand a gentle squeeze that was by no means reassuring. She squeezed back all the same, wishing she could be as calm about this as he seemed to be. But perhaps Matthew had less reason to be afraid of her father's temper than she did. Twenty-six years had taught her differently.
They walked into the restaurant, Mary grateful the private room was at the back, hiding them from view of her parents for another moment. She could already imagine her mother's face, an expression of unamusement surely placed there. She wouldn't have told Robert, not when the weight would be off her shoulders so soon.
Her father's head was turned when they came into view, murmuring at ease to Cora who looked rather nervous. At the sound of footsteps, Robert turned his head, seeing Mary first.
"Darling, what are you…doing…here?" Slowly her father's eyes had drifted to Mary and Matthew's intertwined fingers, growing wide as they approached the table. Robert waited until the host was gone to speak again, his mouth hanging open in shock as Matthew pulled a chair out for Mary who was afraid to sit in case her father leapt across the table. "What the bloody hell is this?"
"Papa, I—" Mary began, her father seething as he looked between the two of them. She took Matthew's hand once he was seated at her side, his face now as nervous as her mother's.
"Robert—" Matthew had started to speak at the same time, but both were interrupted.
"Mary is the woman you've been pining after for years? My daughter? MY DAUGHTER?" he shouted, looking to his wife for support in his indignation. Cora merely looked strained. "For Christ's sake, Cora, did you know about this?"
"I thought it Mary's responsibility to tell you," she said. "I stumbled across them on New Year's."
Robert looked back at Mary and Matthew, his eyes hard. "Doing what?"
A confirmatory blush crept into Mary's cheeks, Matthew's fingers anxiously wriggling beneath hers.
"Robert, please, let me explain," he began.
"What the hell is there to explain, Matthew? You've been seeing my daughter behind my back, without my permission—"
"I don't need your permission," Mary interjected, a strange confidence spiking in her. "I'm not a child."
Robert leaned forward, as though trying to speak to Mary privately in spite of the fact that the others could hear every word he said. "Mary, please be rational about this. You've known Matthew for as long as I have. You…you know what he can be like."
Beside her, Matthew sighed, his grip relaxing in her hand. She turned her head, surprised to see his eyes fixed on the table, as though his confidence in the evening had been washed away.
Mary felt her eyes burn at this slight against Matthew. "Papa, there's so much more to him than just that. Truly. We've all been so horribly blind."
"Oh, Mary, you've been manipulated by his charms! If only you knew half the stories of his conquests, your tune would change in a heartbeat."
As her father spoke, the waitress entered, four wine glasses and a bottle on a tray. Robert pressed his lips together as she set the glasses on the table, pouring wine into each before placing the bottle near him.
"Anything else, sir?"
Mary was tempted to ask for a water, but she feared her parents' reaction to it. Thankfully, Matthew didn't.
"Could I have a glass of water, please?" he asked quietly.
"Of course," she said, leaving after a quick thanks from Robert.
"And you know how I feel about my employees dating! It creates too much tension in the workplace, distractions at every corner, incites gossip. But my daughter decides she's above my silly rules, does she? God, Mary, do you know how that will look! My head of legal bedding the junior director of marketing?"
"Papa, he's not 'bedding' me!" Mary insisted, blushing at this half-truth. "I love him! He loves me!"
Robert looked as though he wanted to punch Matthew. "Is that what you told her? You love her? My God, Matthew, I can't believe you. After all these years together, hearing so many of your lurid stories and you've been seducing my daughter behind my back?"
"I've not seduced anyone!" Matthew retorted, a spark returning. "Give your daughter some credit for knowing her own mind! And give me some!"
"How dare you speak to me in that tone!" Robert shouted back.
"Robert, please, be rational," Cora interjected, laying a hand on her husband's arm. Matthew picked up his glass of wine and took a drink, exhaling in a huff. "You can't be so oblivious not to realize this sort of thing has surely happened before between your employees."
"That hardly makes it acceptable," he replied, still staring daggers at Matthew.
"I quite agree," Cora continued, her eyes now focusing on Mary's untouched wine glass, "but there is no use getting so bent up about it. What's done is…done."
The waitress returned, setting the glass of water by Matthew before asking if they were ready to order. Robert sent her away with an appetizer order, Cora's gaze meeting Mary's.
She felt as though she was being examined, like her mother had worked out her new secret based on the fact that Mary hadn't taken one sip of the wine. Hoping to throw Cora off the scent, Mary brought the glass to her lips, pretending to take a sip before setting it back down, although Mathew had nearly stopped her from doing it, pulling his hand back at the last minute.
"Do you not like the year, Mary?" Cora questioned, taking a real sip of her own glass, eyes flitting between Matthew and Mary.
"It's her favorite," Robert said, "strangely enough, since I didn't know she was coming."
"Then why isn't she drinking it?"
"Mama," Mary began, color rising in her cheeks again, "don't."
Her father looked horribly aggravated by the ladies' interruption. "Back to the point—"
"Robert, I won't pretend that I've been a saint in the past ten years," Matthew began firmly, "God knows that I haven't. And I know I don't deserve any sort of second chance from you or Mary, but the fact remains that I am in love with your daughter."
"You've always been a very charismatic speaker, Matthew, I'll give you that. One of the things I've always liked about you, a lawyer who can turn a phrase. But this bullshit doesn't work on me like it did on her," Robert said.
Mary blinked back tears, pulling her hand from Matthew's to knit her fingers together on her lap. Her empty stomach churned uneasily, as though anxiety and pregnancy hormones were mixing with her father's lack of faith in her.
"It is not bullshit!" Matthew replied loudly. "God, what do I have to do to convince you—convince everyone—that I love her? That I've been in love with her for nearly ten years?"
"Words, Matthew, that's all I'm hearing," Robert replied callously. "Maybe if your actions with…relationships…over the past two or three years, let alone ten, had displayed some level of responsibility—"
"I'm irresponsible?" Matthew snorted, the expression passing over her father's face clear he should shut up unless he wanted to be sacked or punched. Matthew took a deep breath, reaching under the table to cover Mary's hands with his. "Well, let me show you how responsible I am."
"Matthew," Mary interjected, "this isn't a good time."
Cora's lips pressed together in realization. "Oh, my God."
Robert looked round at his wife, confusion on his face. "What is it?"
"Papa, please remain calm," Mary begged, her father's frown deepening.
"Yes, Robert, I think that would be best," Cora insisted, hand on her husband's arm again.
"Someone tell me what the hell is going on or—"
"Mary's pregnant," Matthew spoke quickly.
Robert's eyes bulged in his head. "She—and you—WHAT?" he shouted.
"Oh, God," Cora murmured, pressing her fingertips to her brow.
"Mary?" Robert asked, looking to her.
Beneath the table, Matthew's fingers gave hers a gentle squeeze.
"It's true, Papa," she whispered, her father's disappointed gaze nearly more than she could bear.
"Good God!" Robert exclaimed. He turned to Matthew. "Responsible, my ass, Matthew—this is all your fault!"
"I am responsible Robert—I want to marry her," Matthew said suddenly.
Mary turned her head so fast she felt dizzy from the movement and the conviction in Matthew's voice as she and Robert both spoke at the same time,
"WHAT?"
Thoughts?