I am SO sorry about the wait! School has been stressful and has completely messed with my mojo!
September 12th
"I can't believe the rest of my family is coming. My parents are one thing, but Aunt Debbie? Aunt Miriam? Grandma Lucille? And Uncle Rudy—Oh, why Uncle Rudy? My mom didn't even invite him to her wedding, and he's her brother! Dammit, we should've eloped!"
Felicity ranted as she waddled up and down the hallway, trying to come to terms with the guest list. Oliver leaned against the wall, unable to erase his smile.
"You make it sound like they're worse than my family."
"They are."
"I'll have to meet them eventually anyway."
His fiancée groaned, her hands on her lower back. "It's bad enough that we're getting married on Friday the thirteenth and that I look like Moby Dick when I wear my wedding dress, but we'll also have to deal my great-grandma. This will probably be a disaster."
"Maybe you should give me a heads up, then?" Oliver grabbed her shoulders and began to massage them. "What are they like?"
"Nothing can prepare you for what's to come." she replied grimly.
"Come on, tell me one thing."
"Uncle Rudy's a brilliant con artist."
He stopped rubbing her shoulders. "Wait, what?"
"He was the one who taught me how to count cards. So never ever ever give him money or gamble with him."
"Hmm."
Felicity turned to face him. "Great-grandma Esther—we call her Bobeshi—curses a lot and says inappropriate things. She raised my dad and Debbie because their dad ran off after their mom died, so she's always grumbling about that no-good son of hers. Aunt Debbie is a huge flirt who's had way too many boyfriends. Aunt Miriam is terrifying. Lucille is a former model and complains that I'm not enough like her. Grandpa Felix may or may not be a former assassin. Actually, my dad might be too—I've eavesdropped on some strange conversations. And Rudy's son Kyle likes explosives."
Oliver blinked, trying to process everything. "Maybe we should've eloped."
Just then, the doorbell rang.
"Oh, shit. They're here." Felicity mumbled.
Baby Hood kicked forcefully as they walked down the stairs, which momentarily distracted Felicity from the pain that awaited her. Oliver squeezed her hand and she squeezed back.
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Raisa opened the door and in poured the Hilfords. Lucille entered first, suppressing her impressed expression as she observed the mansion. Felix ran a hand over his bald head, not nearly as reserved as his wife. Rudy scanned the room appraisingly, making Felicity want to hide all the valuables. Kyle merely quirked an eyebrow before returning his attention to his phone.
"Your grandpa's mustache is incredible." Roy whispered in Felicity's ear, startling her. "Did he steal it from Tom Selleck?"
"Be nice, Roy." she hissed back.
Finished with gawking at the mansion, Grandpa noticed his granddaughter. "Junior!" he exclaimed as he rushed to hug her.
"No crushing, please." she said, hoping he'd be gentle for once. He was still far too in shape for his age. It made her wonder if he could take Oliver or Diggle in a fight.
"How's my favorite granddaughter been?" he asked once he finished giving her a careful hug.
There was a ladylike scoff behind them. "Darling, what kind of question is that? She's marrying Oliver Queen." They watched as she extended her hand towards Felicity's fiancé. He shook it politely. Lucille tossed her long silver hair over her shoulder. "Lovely to meet you, Oliver. Felicity's told us absolutely nothing about you."
"Things have been complicated, Lucille." countered her granddaughter.
"Yes, the convexity of your stomach illustrates that perfectly."
Before Felicity could sufficiently gape at the insult, Uncle Rudy interrupted.
"Mom, I remember you being nicer to Judy when she surprised you with Asher." He flashed a ridiculously charismatic smile. "And Asher isn't even rich."
"And Junior at least invited us to the wedding." Felix gently reminded her, hoping to distract everyone from Rudy's superficial comment. "Judy hadn't done that."
Lucille rolled her eyes. "I suppose. Rudy, take our bags upstairs." she commanded, shooing him off.
"How about you and Grandpa go see where we're holding the ceremony?" Felicity said pleasantly. "It's in the backyard, way far away from the front door."
Lucille smirked, dragging her husband away.
And then there was Kyle.
"Kyle, is it?" ventured Oliver, wondering if he'd even look up from his phone. He did, to Felicity's amazement.
"And you're Oliver Queen." His tone made it sound like an insult. "Seen a lot about you on the news. Never struck me as marriage material."
Oliver licked his lips, trying not to be offended. "I'm just as surprised as you are."
Kyle stepped into Oliver's personal space, and it was apparent that a punch in the face was not out of the question. Felicity knew he wasn't capable of kicking Oliver's ass, but he sure looked it. "Then again, you don't need to be marriage material to have a shotgun wedding, do you?"
His cousin glared at him. "Kyle—"
"I've never gotten along with Felicity—I still think she's a weirdo—but she's the closest thing to a sister I'm ever gonna get. So if you fuck this up, I'll fuck you up. You got that, rich boy?"
Oliver blinked, his face expressionless. Then he nodded. Kyle returned the gesture and clapped him on the shoulder before following his grandparents.
"I think he's my favorite so far," Oliver admitted after he'd left.
"Honestly, I wasn't aware he cared so much."
"If the Hilfords are that entertaining, then I can't wait 'til the Smoaks get here."
"Shut up, Roy." Felicity said, exasperated.
A moment later, Uncle Rudy descended the stairs.
"There's my little Lucky Strike!" he said, using the most annoying of all her nicknames. The three of them watched as the con artist flashed them a brilliant smile. Pushing fifty, he was still very good looking, and Felicity knew what he was capable of. If she didn't lay down the law, he was bound to cause problems.
"I think we should cover some ground rules." she said politely after he hugged her.
"Ground rules?" asked Rudy, all innocence. "I think I know how to act at a wedding—"
"If you screw any of these people over, I will have your head." That definitely got his attention. "I'm serious; I'll have Diggle deliver it to me on a silver platter. No gambling, no scams of any kind, and if you so much as flirt with Mrs. Queen I will tell my nice cop friend about all those fascinating cons you bragged to me about and I will start with the long con in Albuquerque. Is that understood?"
Strangely, instead of being hurt or outraged, Rudy seemed impressed. "Sure thing," he replied. "Nice meeting you, Oliver." Then he walked off in search of his parents and son.
"Wow, you don't like him very much, do you?" remarked Oliver.
"Am I invisible?" asked Roy.
"It's not that, I just don't trust him. But if you put him in his place, he respects you."
"Guys, I'm serious," Roy quipped behind them. "None of them noticed me."
"Kid," Felicity looked over her shoulder at him, her hands bracing her lower back. "When my aunts and Bobeshi get here, you're gonna hope that pattern continues."
The three continued to wait anxiously by the door. Felicity tried to get Roy to go find Thea, but he refused; the poor fool wanted to meet the rest of her family.
They didn't have to wait long. There was a knock at the door and Raisa answered. When Oliver saw who it was, he reflexively took a step back.
"Flick!" Mr. Smoak exclaimed as he hurried over to his daughter, his wife close behind. They both hugged her and squealed at how big she'd gotten. After warmly greeting Oliver, they turned their attention to the boy in the red hoodie.
"And who are you, dear?" asked Mrs. Smoak.
He tried to answer, but Felicity cut him off. "This is Roy Harper. He's Thea's boyfriend." She glanced at him before continuing. "He's also the annoying little brother I never had."
"Aw, how sweet!" cooed her mother. "Lovely meeting you, pumpkin!"
Mr. Smoak took his wife by the hand and led her away. "Come along, dear. Let's go see the setup in the backyard."
The three turned and watched her tiny parents scurry down the hall.
"Roy, are you blushing?" asked Oliver with a smirk.
Felicity looked and saw he was right. "Was it the pumpkin thing?"
He rolled his eyes. "Like I care what your Keebler-elf parents call me."
She gasped. "It was the little brother thing!"
"Shut up!" he whined.
Oliver laughed. "He's too cool to be your baby brother."
"No he's not," she baby-talked while trying to pull Roy into a hug. He broke down and let her embrace him, but only for a second.
"Okay, quit it." he said, trying to hold back a smile.
Then the door opened, and suddenly all the warmth left the room.
"Aunt Miriam!" Felicity shrieked/greeted. The skinny, Addams-esque thing she was regrettably related to stuck out her pointy chin as she surveyed her surroundings. Dark, long, straight hair hung limp around her thin, pale face, her beady little eyes narrowed in scrutiny. Red nails tapped idly against the handle of her luggage. Her dress looked as appropriate for a funeral as it was for a wedding, the fabric a plain yet shimmery gray. Raisa stared wide-eyed at the new guest and subtly backed away. Then Aunt Scariam finally scowled in their direction.
"You look like you're about to pop," she said to her niece.
"Feels like it," she responded.
"Your man's not bad-looking."
"Thanks,"
Her head tilted to the side and her eyes narrowed again as she noticed Roy. "What's that one behind you?"
Felicity's eyes flicked to the apprehensive young man. "That's Roy Harper."
"Which one of you fools invited him?" Miriam clucked her tongue reproachfully. "Debbie's never gonna leave that one alone. He'll be lucky if she doesn't tie him up and throw him in the trunk as a party favor. Do you know she's done that after getting wasted? Twice, actually. It's never a good idea to get my little sister drunk."
Oliver cleared his throat. "We'll make sure to keep her away from the bar."
Miriam smiled slightly, and unfortunately it made her look almost homicidal. "That's a good billionaire. Have fun dealing with Bobeshi." she said before heading into the hallway. A "Good luck, Roy," was faintly heard before she disappeared around a corner.
"Did your terrifying aunt just warnus about your other aunt?" asked Oliver.
"I'm afraid." Roy admitted quietly.
"Aunt Debbie's not that bad—"
A shrill squeal interrupted her, and Felicity turned just in time to see her youngest aunt barrel towards her.
"You're pregnant!" Debbie squeaked, her hands on her baby belly. Oliver and Roy stared at this strange new threat, wondering at the juxtaposition her cutsie demeanor made with her many tattoos and piercings. Then her light brown eyes met Roy's and it was like Christmas mor—uh, the first night of Hanukkah.
"Who are you?" she asked Roy, her bright red lips curled in a smile.
He quickly ran away. Debbie cocked her head as she admired his retreating figure, not at all offended by his behavior. "He's cute. I like the ones that run; it's more fun that way." Then she waved at Oliver before click-clicking after her prey, her full skirt bouncing slightly with every step.
"He's taken, Debbie!" Felicity called after her. All Debbie did was giggle.
"I'm allergic to nuts, and my family's full of them." commented Felicity.
"Don't tell me Bobeshi is worse than that," begged Oliver.
"Worse than what?"
The couple returned their attention to the door and found a teensy old woman shuffling inside, her cane preceding her. Her big, thick glasses gave her the appearance of either an owl or an incredibly old Professor Trelawney. She struck Oliver as the kind of person who did a lot of knitting and always had Werther's Original in her purse. She was so tiny and cute and elderly, like a pocket grandma—
"You look like a soldier I used to fuck," the little old lady said as she stared up at Oliver. He pursed his lips and looked at Felicity. Her expression said, I warned you.
"Hey, Bobeshi. Nice to meet you." he said, trying to overcome the awkwardness that only he felt.
"Name's Esther Nussbaum. But I guess you're mishpocheh now so Bobeshi is fine." She smirked, still studying him. "Actually, you remind me of Ezra. You're goyish, but you're built like an oak tree and you got a strong jaw, just like he did."
"Oy vey, Bobeshi!" Felicity sighed. "I know where you're going with that, don't you dare—"
"You're more like me than you'd like to admit, my little yiddisher kop." she replied with a chuckle. "You look just like I did when I was young and you're just like me."
"I'm not as slutty as you, Bobeshi!"
"Sure you're not," Bobeshi smirked again and gently poked her great-granddaughter's round belly. "Mazel tov, by the way."
"At least I'm getting married!" Felicity retorted. Oliver could tell this was an old argument and decided to stay very quiet.
"To someone who looks like your great-grandfather."
Felicity buried her face in her hands. "You annoying old slut,"
Bobeshi laughed. "Careful your son doesn't run off on you like mine did." And with that she trundled away, looking for the rest of the family.
Oliver put an arm around is wife-to-be. "I'm looking forward to Thanksgiving."
The joke managed to make her giggle, but then Bobeshi ruined it.
"Oh, my! Look at the tuchis on him!" Felicity and Oliver turned to see Bobeshi shamelessly ogling Oliver's backside. "I'm so proud of you, Felicity!"
"Quit objectifying my fiancé, you wrinkly whore!" Felicity snapped.
Her great-grandmother only giggled mischievously as she met her great-granddaughter's eyes. "You better sing for me later like you always do when I visit."
"Like you always make me do."
"You're singing 'Bei Mir Bist Du Schon' for me later or I'll show that goy of yours all the family pictures I brought. Then he'll see what I mean when I say you look like me."
Felicity's jaw clenched. "Fine, Bobeshi."
Her great-grandmother nodded and hurried slowly away, no doubt in search of more people to offend.
When she was gone, Oliver held Felicity closer and rubbed her back. "We really should've eloped."
I hope this was worth the wait. I was really finicky about this chapter; there won't be many more after this one.