Disillusion Meets Delight (9 page)

We arrive at Monet’s for brunch at precisely 10:22 to meet Jan and Mallory.  Thank goodness we provided extra time for travel.  The elderly couple that moved at a snail’s pace across Oak Street was really putting us behind.  My hangover is starting to settle and mimosas are beginning to sound divine.  The restaurant is actually really nice.  There is a lovely aroma of crepes and French roast coffee.  The subtle colors of pale pink and crème provide a sense of calm which is what I need desperately right about now because the dynamic duo have just made their grand entrance. 

Jan has been seeing the plastic surgeon recently because her eyebrows seem closer to her hairline than normal and although she must be well past fifty; there is barely a crease on her face and not a gray hair in sight.  Her reddish brown hair is perfectly styled and it would not surprise me the least bit if she had seen her stylist before coming to brunch.  Jan Wellington has always tried her best to out-do my mother, which is quite charming considering she claims to be one of my mother’s dearest friends.  Yet my mother ignores her behavior and carries on with their superficial friendship.  I think it’s a country club thing.

As the wait staff brings our meals out, I am starting to calm down a bit.  The conversation, as idle as it may be, has little relevance to me.  No comments of my career or love life so far and I will gladly keep it that way!

“Well ladies, I suppose it’s time that we make our announcement!  My dear and only daughter is getting married!”  Jan exclaims and if I am not mistaken, seems to be tearing up!  Mallory Wellington is getting married.  Lovely!  Yet another accomplishment that appears to be a far off triumph for myself.  I think I could vomit right now at this very moment. 

“Oh Jan, you must be so proud!  Who is the lucky gentleman that has swept our Mallory away?”  My mother asks with glee.

“Caroline, he is an absolute catch.  He is a real estate mogul here in the city.  He is only 32 but he makes a fortune and has nothing but more potential.  We always knew Mallory would find herself a Forbes man. It is destiny really isn’t it?”  Jan replies.

What is remarkable is how silent Mallory is throughout this whole conversation.  It is as if her mother has put together the arrangement and Mallory either had little to say or care. 

“Mallory, what is his name?”  I ask, trying to get her to say something because at this point, I am wondering if she is actually mute. 

“His name is Robert Alexander.”  Mallory replies as I choke on my bite of crepe.

 “I met him through a friend of the family about a year ago.  It was love at first sight.  We don’t get to see each other as frequently as I would like though.  He is very busy with work.”  Mallory speaks softly and I am simply trying to keep my composure as I realize that the name Robert Alexander seems terribly familiar.  Is it coincidence or is Mallory Wellington engaged to Jenna’s boyfriend?  This cannot be happening.   

“Now, Natalie, do we see any prospects of a beau in your future?  You aren’t getting any younger you know.  Now is the time to be finding that man.  Once you have hit 30, your chances of finding anything worthwhile is slim to none.”  Where does this woman get her ideas?  First of all, I am not 30 and she has no right to say anything about my life.  Her daughter is engaged to a slime ball! 

“Actually, Jan…”  I begin to reply with a sharp tongue when my mother cuts me off at the pass.

“Of course she has met someone Jan!  Do you think that a daughter of mine would become a spinster?”  My mother responds with a haughty laugh and a nudge under the table.

“Well, she hasn’t said two words about him the whole morning so I assumed she was still alone!  Tell us more about this mystery man.”  Jan replies as I take a big gulp of champagne.

“Oh we won’t bore you with details.  After all, this is Mallory’s announcement day.  We will just say that he is an absolute dear and treats Natalie to all of the luxuries a lady should have.”  My mother says, completely natural as though she has known my fake boyfriend for years. 

“Very well, Caroline.  I presume he will be coming to Mallory’s wedding and we can get to know him then.  Oh, what am I thinking?  They can come to the engagement party!  How silly of me.  It’s not this coming Saturday, but the one after.  It’s the 16
^th
to be precise.  We are having it at our home, so it will be intimate, only about seventy five attendees.  Well, Mallory, are you ready to go?  We have a lot of errands to run.  Come, let’s go.  Caroline, I assume you have the invitation still.  You can give Natalie the specifics.” As they leave, I realize that Mallory Wellington is the most boring person I have ever met.  Although, when your mother makes all of your decisions and doesn’t let you get a word in, I suppose it leaves little room for character development.  Of course, it could be worse.  She could have a mother that makes fictitious boyfriends up and brags to her friends.

“Mother, how could you?  Are you embarrassed of me?  Would you rather I become a doormat like Mallory Wellington and have a creepy jerk of a man?”  I ask exasperated.  This was a brunch that I would never have been prepared for. 

“Darling, what was I supposed to do?  Jan was acting so high and mighty, I had to shut her up somehow.  Don’t worry, we will figure something out.  You never know darling, perhaps you will find the man of your dreams and all of this will turn out to be a prophecy instead of a fabrication.”  My mother is either the biggest optimist or she is in complete and utter denial.

“In less than two weeks, mother, are you completely off your rocker?”

“I don’t know Natalie.  Stranger things have happened.”  I have faith in miracles.”  She says, patting my shoulder as she steps out of the car.

“Thank you for your support.  Just let me know the next time you decide to recite the story of my life to your friends.  I need time to prep so I know what is actually happening.”  I drop her off and drive back to my apartment, my one bedroom apartment with no husband, a freezer full of frozen meals and a refrigerator with ketchup and wine.   

I wanted to wallow and sulk in my own misery over my mother’s behavior today.  I felt ashamed and hurt that my own mother would tell her friends lies to make herself look better.  Sure, Jan Wellington is a difficult person and is infamous for making other people feel less than superior.  In fact, I think it is quite possible she attended seminars to master the art but that still does not excuse the fact that
my
mother did not stick up for me. Maybe I won’t get married.  It has never been a priority for me.  Unlike Jenna who has been planning her wedding since she was able to talk.  Oh my god, in all of my reflection, I have completely forgotten the bigger issue!  Jenna’s boyfriend is not her boyfriend at all; he is Mallory Wellington’s fiancé!  An issue as devastating as this would never be easy to discuss at any time.  This was embarrassing, humiliating and even worse, an “I told you so” moment.  Yet feelings of satisfaction and ‘ah hah!’ did not cross my mind.  I hurt for Jenna during a time that ignorance was bliss.  This was such a delicate issue, especially since Mya and I were currently not on speaking terms with Jenna.  After yesterday’s completely disastrous confrontation, I wondered if there actually was a way to tell Jenna the horrible news.  Perhaps disclosure would be the best plan for the moment.  Yes, I will keep this secret under wraps for now.  Some would call this avoidance, I call it survival. 

Ian awoke to a lovely Sunday morning, which in Portland’s autumn season, seemed to be complete and utter luck.  The aroma of coffee and French toast lingered throughout the house and for a moment, he reminisced about his childhood days when his mother made everyone pancakes and fresh orange juice and danced in the kitchen to Motown music.  His mother was an inspiration and the epitome of living life to the fullest.  Ian grew up listening to greats such as Otis Redding, Sam Cooke, and Aretha Franklin.  His favorite thing to do as a kid was sing backup with his mom holding a whisk and him holding a wooden spoon.  Of course, no self respecting male would ever admit such behavior to anyone but the memories remained locked in his heart forever.  His father never understood such silly behavior, which is why Ian’s mother finally left him when Ian was young.  He hastily remarried and forgot about his first born son.  The rejection of a father was incredibly difficult for a young man entering adolescence but the support of Ian’s mother guided him through the darkness.  He never really strayed off toward the path of delinquency and mayhem and credit will always be given to his mother.  Of course, she also remarried an excellent role model who quickly became a mentor to Ian; Maggie’s father.

Anthony D’Amato took care of Ian’s mother and he always treated Ian as though they were blood relatives.  A hard-working corporate attorney, Mr. D’Amato spent many hours at the office but always insisted on being present for Ian’s important sports events.  When Maggie entered the picture early into the new marriage, it seemed the family was now complete.  Ian missed his parents a great deal and always wondered if they thought he was doing well with Maggie’s upbringing.  He thought they would, but every son wants the approval of his parents and Ian would never be able to completely achieve that.

“Wake up sleepy head!  It’s time for breakfast!”  Maggie sings down the hallway.  An apparent natural with a cast, she had managed to make French toast and brew coffee even with a broken arm.  Was there anything this girl could not do?  Ian rubbed his eyes and walked to the kitchen to see a truly beautiful spread.  Sliced fresh fruit, creamers and warm maple syrup was placed on the table with a carafe of orange juice with two small glasses by each plate.

“Maggie, this is phenomenal.  How in the world did you do this all by yourself?”  Ian asked, somewhat flabbergasted.  He wouldn’t have been able to make this look so good even with both hands. 

“Well, it was a bit difficult at first, but once I got used to the fact that I would have to do one thing at a time, it was okay.  It’s not that hard only using one hand.  I’m just lucky I’m not left handed!”  It was probably a good thing that they were so far apart in age as Maggie definitely would have been the golden child of the family.  Her glass half full and ability to never do anything wrong probably would have driven Ian mad.  However, they don’t have a sibling rivalry at this point and Ian appreciated her competence and independence. 

“Ian, I just wanted to do something nice for you.  I know you said it wasn’t a big deal that your night was cut short, but you really needed to go out and socialize.  All you do is work and take care of me.  You are still young and you live like an old man!”  Ian wasn’t quite sure how to take Maggie’s observation.  He wanted to be offended, but he knew that she was just trying to make a point. 

“I see people, Maggie.  It’s not like I sit smoking a pipe doing crossword puzzles!  In fact, I was planning on going for a run with my friend, Jenna today.”  Ian replied indignantly.  Granted, he and Jenna hadn’t made specific plans but there was a great chance that they would bump into one another, so it wasn’t a complete falsehood. 

“You know what I mean, Ian.  Anyway, I just think you need to get yourself out there more.  When we lived in D.C. you had an awesome social life.  I don’t want life to pass you by.”  Maggie explained in a tone that almost resembled his mother’s. 

“Okay, point taken.  How did you become so profound in all of your thirteen and three quarters years?”  Ian asked.

“The power of television dear brother.  It’s an amazing tool left in the right hands.”’

I decided to take a nap after the eventful brunch with my mother.  After all, there was still much needed recovery from the night before.  I wonder at what age we stop having the ability to drink compulsively and function on a few hours of sleep.  I clearly remember going out with my friends and drinking till four or five in the morning to then sleep for a couple of hours and awaken fresh for class later on.  I do not, however, remember when it all stopped, the resilience that is.  I can guarantee Saturday night’s little soiree will set me back a good two or three days.  The mere idea that I was able to get up this morning to go to brunch was pure fear of my mother and lack of tolerance for her lectures.  If it was my job, I would have played the “24-hour flu” card.  An employee has no more than two cards per year though and must use them wisely.  A newcomer to the “real world” must use caution when socializing on a work night as there is a fine line between overdoing it and being in complete denial.  One must learn that eventually, the college stamina goes away and we eventually become grown-ups.  Depressing really, isn’t it?  Yes, I completely agree.

My afternoon nap was interrupted by Mya calling to check up on my debilitating condition.  Although, I think she really wanted to find out if Jake called me.  With my mother’s lie, my wretched hangover and Jenna’s life falling apart, I had actually forgotten that I was supposed to call him.  Seriously, it is no wonder why I am chronically single.  I get distracted with other things so easy!