A Series of Unfortunate Clichés: Chapter 6: Meet the Parents
Disclaimer: If I said they were mine, you wouldn't believe me anyway. People, places and objects recognisable from 24 do not belong to me.
Notes: Yet again, many thanks to those who took the time to tell me that they enjoyed the last chapter. It really is very lovely to receive feedback hence I am currently trying my best to let other authors know that I appreciate their time spent to entertain me!
Apologies for the delay in writing this chapter: in addition to being busy in real life, I also temporarily stumbled upon a spot of writer's block. However, am mostly over it now…
Let me know if you enjoy this chapter.
The response from work colleagues to their engagement is good. For the first few days, no one comments on it. This is possibly because they don't tell anyone. This suits them fine. There's no reason for there to be a big song and dance about it all.
However, on the fourth day, she forgets to remove the ring from her finger and place it on the chain around her neck.
Their colleagues being CTU employees – and, let's face it: women being women – it is noticed within about 2 minutes.
Kim grabs her hand as soon as she notices the sparkly object on it.
She looks at it, a smile in place on her face. "Is that…?" she asks, leaving Michelle to fill in the missing words, which are incredibly clear. Michelle says nothing, willing to neither confirm nor deny Kim's assumption.
Finally, Kim, having finished studying the ring, asks her again: "Are you and Tony engaged?"
"Yes," Michelle replies quietly, not wanting the attention that other people in the near vicinity are beginning to demonstrate.
Kim is, unfortunately, unaware of Michelle's wish. "Oh my God! That's great! Have you set a date of the big day, yet? Where are you having it?" she gushes.
"We've not sorted out any of the details yet," she replies, truthfully. Others are now listening intently to the conversation, having ascertained the topic. They ask to see the ring, offer their congratulations, ask about her thoughts on her dress, catering, offering advice and recommendations.
The attention – most of it unwanted as she really would prefer to concentrate on work – continues for much of the day. Obviously, CTU is not a place where secrets of some varieties are kept for long.
She understands some of their enthusiasm, but after the 50th "Where are you having the wedding?" she thinks that maybe she should elope to Hawaii. After all, if just a ring generates this level of interest, who knows what might happen if they announce an actual event.
She doesn't entirely understand the fascination with weddings. When her brother got married, she was a bridesmaid and found the attention to detail and worrying about things such as "where should we place the flowers – do they really go with the colour scheme of the dresses?" and "can we really have Uncle Fred and mom's friend Gerry sitting at the same table – didn't they have an argument 45 years ago?" and "oh God, we forgot to invite Great Step Aunt Maud's second cousin Lionel to the wedding, and now they'll never speak to us again even though we haven't seen them in 20 years" bewildering.
She finds it odd that other people are currently far more interested in her wedding than she is. Not that she isn't interested but currently she finds it all a bit overwhelming, and certainly hadn't anticipated such attention.
Later, she is caught again in another re-hash of "we have no idea who, what, where, when, or why the wedding will take place" when Tony calls a meeting for the senior staff. And she is almost glad for the diversion.
She is at home after a long day of work. Tony is in the shower. She relaxes in front of the TV, watching some mindless drama whereby a number of attractive people are stranded on an island where there appears to be some sort of creature trying to kill them all. That is, if they're not too busy trying to kill each other.
The phone rings and she is almost loath to move from her current position, but manages to haul herself out of the armchair before it stops ringing.
"Hello?"
"Michelle?"
She doesn't recognise the voice. "Yes?" she replies dubiously.
"Michelle, hello, it's Tony's mother, Maria. Is Tony there?"
She silently lets out a sigh of relief; it is not a crazy stalker after all. "He's in the shower at the moment; can I get him to call you back?"
"No need. We just wanted to officially invite you both to our Golden Wedding anniversary celebrations. We're having a small party starting at 1pm on the 15th. I don't expect that Tony remembered. We'd love to see you both there."
She flounders for a reason not to go but can't think of one. "I'll put it on the calendar. I'll look forward to meeting you."
She hangs up and sighs. She really doesn't look forward to it.
"Don't worry, my parents will love you. Just be yourself," Tony advises as he drives them over to the party. She has been fretting about it for a number of days.
"Uh, sweetheart, it's not exactly a foregone conclusion that because you like me, your parents will, too," she reminds him for about the fiftieth time.
"Yes, but I love you. So they have to," he reasons.
She doesn't reply to this but offers him a raised eyebrow in question.
He amends his statement. "Well, maybe they don't have to love you. But they've been told that they at least have to like you," he reassures her.
"Well, that makes all the difference", she says sarcastically. "I'm sure they'll do exactly what you tell them."
They pull into the driveway and she stops talking and even worrying about meeting his parents when she sees the house.
"Okay, so when you told me that your parents "got by" you were lying, right?" she comments, now possibly even more worried as her eyes fixate upon the huge residence.
"Obfuscating the truth, possibly," he admits.
There is obviously a big party going on. There are rows of large cars, elegant women in expensive clothes and heels saunter across the lawn, perfectly turned-out children skip obediently beside their parents.
She looks down at what she is wearing. "Okay, now we're going to have to go back because I wasn't prepared to be confronted by this: I thought we'll just have a nice, relaxed party in your parent's reasonably sized but comfortable house in the suburbs. There was no mention of high society events. Your mother specifically said "small"," she worries.
"Think of it this way: at least it takes the pressure off you. They'll be far too busy circulating to spend too much time talking with their youngest son and his fiancée," he reasons, knowing full well that it will not appease her.
"How does it take the pressure off? Instead of pretending that I'm nice and relaxed and perfect daughter-in-law material to your parents and 40 of their closest friends, I have to pretend that I am nice, relaxed and perfect daughter-in-law material to your parents and 250 of their closest friends, as well as pretending that I know how to conduct myself during high society events." She pauses, something obviously going through her mind. "I don't even know which fork I should use for which course!"
He grins, which possibly irritates her yet more, but at least takes her mind off her other concerns. "Are you calm now? Or do we need to go back home and spend a few hours preparing to return?" She breathes deeply, glares at him and then nods that she is fine. He takes her hand. "How about this: we meet my parents, we grab some lunch, we leave." She nods in affirmation.
They get out of the car and walk round the back of the house. She reassesses her original assumption: it is not quite as pretentious as she had initially thought. Except that there is a marquee. But the five course meal she had expected looks as though it will be a buffet. A buffet with lobster, canapés and what could possibly be caviar, but a buffet nonetheless.
Tony's mother immediately hones in on her youngest son. She begins her conversation with him by complaining at him for a: not seeing her enough, and b: not introducing her to Michelle.
"We've obviously heard a lot about you. I was hoping that eventually I would get to meet you. It's a good thing you answered the phone, I could never trust this one to make any arrangements," she motions at her son in exasperation.
Tony rolls his eyes, "Ma," he groans. He introduces Michelle.
Michelle holds her hand out to shake his mother's, but Maria spots the ring immediately. She shrieks, much to Tony's consternation. "Frank!" she calls over to Tony's father, "Frank, come over here! Tony, why didn't you tell us?"
"I wanted to tell you in person", he mumbles, embarrassed.
"My youngest son, getting married, finally!" she delights, hugging him.
Tony rolls his eyes again, embarrassedly looking over at Michelle. She smiles, amused.
Then Maria reaches over and hugs Michelle.
"Welcome to the family, Michelle," Maria greets her. "Here, let me introduce you to the rest of the family; we certainly can't rely on this oaf to do the honours."
Tony's mom drags Michelle off to meet family members and friends. Michelle looks back at Tony desperately. He shrugs, pretending to be helpless. He smiles to himself as he hears his Mom loudly telling people to meet her future daughter-in-law.
It is later that night. They lie on the couch, exhausted, after having spent a good majority of the evening at his parents' party.
"That wasn't so bad, was it?"
She gives a long pause, as if to think before replying. She then smiles, "no".
"My mom adored showing you off to everyone. They were convinced that I was never going to get married."
"Your mom is lovely. She's very proud of you. It was all "My Tony's getting married", and "My Tony, the government agent, you remember?" and "My Tony, he's a wiz with computers, you should talk to him.""
He grins, "you should be glad you got me when you could, then," he smirks.
She raises an eyebrow but refrains from commenting.
"So, when do I get to meet your parents?" he inquires.
"I'm staying with them the weekend of the reunion. You can come with me if you really want to."
"Reunion? What reunion?"
"My high school reunion. I told you about it. You were watching baseball and said something like "huh" which I interpreted as "that sounds lovely honey, but I'm busy that weekend"".
"Well, if I get to meet your parents, how can I possibly turn down the prospect of a reunion? You were one of the pretty, popular ones in high school, right?"
She snorts, a derisive "ha, as if!" implicit.
"Well, I'm sure it'll be a fun weekend away."
"You meant interesting, sweetheart; an interesting weekend away."
End of chapter.
Next one soonish. Well as soon as I write it.
Hope you enjoyed this instalment!