It was just me . . . failing at life again.
Behind me, Rowland broke the silence with a tentative “Surprise?”
No . . . me being a disaster of awkward proportions was the least surprising thing ever. I’d made a smash all right. Like I was the Hulk’s cousin.
Bliss SMASH.
5
Garrick
THE CRASH OF the vase echoed through the foyer for several seconds afterward, and each reverberation seemed to cause my mother’s expression to contort further.
I’d always thought I was fairly good at thinking on my feet and reacting in a crisis (and looking at my mother, this definitely counted as a crisis). For the life of me though, I couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Maybe I was out of practice or maybe there still wasn’t enough blood flowing through my brain, but either way only one word was going through my mind.
Fuck.
And not the kind I’d had in mind.
Luckily, my father, ever the composed businessman, covered for us all.
“Well . . . wasn’t that quite the entrance?”
The crowd laughed, and I could almost feel the heat of Bliss’s blush from here. The entire downstairs was brimming with what seemed like every person I had ever met, and plenty that I hadn’t. And I hadn’t the foggiest clue about what they were doing here.
Dad crossed to Bliss, and she looked queasy enough to pass out. He was immaculate in a dark suit that contrasted with his silvering hair. He picked up her hand and kissed the back of it. Her eyes flicked to mine, surprised.
Dad said, his voice loud enough for everyone to hear, “Don’t you worry about it for one second, sweetheart. I’m sure at some point in his life Garrick had already broken that old thing and glued it back together.”
Mum would have flayed me. She loved that vase. But the people laughed, and the room collectively sighed in relief. Dad was good at that kind of stuff. He could charm any conference room, any party, any seminar. It was the one-on-one things he couldn’t do.
Dad helped Bliss step over the glass shards, and that made me spring into action. We crossed to each other, but Dad stayed in between us. Still holding one of her hands, he clapped me on the shoulder and looked out at the crowd.
“Well, we wanted a surprise engagement party, and we certainly got a surprise.” Everyone laughed again. Dad squeezed my shoulder and said, “You all know my son, Garrick.” I spotted a few business types in the crowd—salt and pepper hair, pristine suits, impeccable ties. I sure as hell didn’t know them. Mixing business with family as always.
“He graduated at the top of his class, and his mother and I were ready for him to go to Oxford like all the other Taylor men.” Here we go. Time for the not-so-sly insults about how I’d ruined our family legacy. “But children have to make their own way, or they’ll only pretend to grow up. I’m proud to look at him and see the man he has become.”
I tried not to gape. My mother and I spoke often enough, but I couldn’t even recall the last time Dad and I had actually spoken. He’d been furious when I left, and certain that I’d ruined my life. Was it possible that my parents had done some changing of their own? This new leaf threw me off balance, and suddenly all I could think about was the scent of beer on my breath and how disheveled I probably looked. “He left us to make his own way and moved to America, where he’s already managed to become a university professor at his young age.”
Okay, so his storytelling was a bit selective considering I was no longer a professor. But it was a compliment nonetheless.
“He’s become a fine man and has now brought home this lovely, unpredictable young woman to join our family.” He turned to Bliss, holding up her hand. “We’re so happy to have you here, Bliss.” Then he turned out to the crowd. “We’re happy to have all of you here to celebrate their engagement with us. Please, eat, drink, enjoy yourselves. Though perhaps keep an eye on the decor.” He winked, and Bliss laughed, completely charmed.
He presented her hand to me as people around the house clapped, and then without actually saying a private word to either of us, retreated to a group of men in suits.
I wanted to punch myself. People laughed and aww’d at his performance, and I’d been sucked in just like the rest of them. Like I was sixteen all over again, I churned with rage and wanted to storm out of the door.
So much for that new leaf.
He’d thrown this stupid party to impress people, and he’d made it a surprise so that I couldn’t object. Just once I would love to see my father try to do something important without an audience.
I schooled my face into a blank expression, and then concentrated on Bliss. I placed a kiss on her temple. She hugged me, and against my chest, I heard her say, “Kill me. Just put me out of my misery, please.”
“And leave me to be miserable without you? Never.”
“So selfish.”
“When it comes to you? Absolutely.” Already I wanted to just take her away, to just be the two of us again. I sighed and looked around. Some people were staying in the foyer, others were streaming into other parts of the house, laughing and drinking, and grabbing hors d’oeuvres from passing waiters.
I said, “I guess our odds of finding somewhere to be alone just got significantly smaller.”
She looked up at me and frowned. She looked so disappointed that my stomach clenched with desire all over again.
Just a few hours. This thing couldn’t last forever.
“I’m so sorry about the vase. And for making such a scene.” Her face scrunched up like she was going to cry, and my method of dealing with her tears yesterday morning probably wasn’t going to fly in this room full of people. I smoothed a hand over her hair and said the only thing I could.
“Marry me?”
Her eyes turned sad.
“Garrick, not now.”
My heart twisted. It was another one of those moments. “Yes, now, love. Marry me.”
“Still? You know I’m just going to keep breaking things.”
“And you know I’m just going to keep loving you anyway.” Her frown twitched, and I added, “Besides . . . not marrying you would break me.”
The frown softened, and she blinked away the film of tears in her eyes. “Me too.”
“It’s settled then. You’re stuck with me forever.”
She shook her head and made a noise that sounded like disbelief.
My biggest fear was that someday she would talk herself out of our relationship. That she would shake her head and listen more to her own poisonous thoughts than the words coming out of my mouth.
I kissed her cheek and whispered in her ear, “We are forever. If you don’t believe me, I’ll have to make you. As soon as we find that place to be alone.”
I only got a faint pink in her cheeks as she looked down at her feet, but I’d take it. After a second, she tipped her head back and groaned, a sound that went straight through me.
She said, “I’m wearing jeans.”
I nodded. I loved those jeans. They fit her perfectly.
“And by the looks of it, I’m in a room filled with people in designer dresses. And you’re crazy if you think this foyer is only slightly grand. There’s a freaking chandelier.”
“Luckily that can’t be knocked over.” Mum’s voice was like whiskey, it came off smooth, but ended with a burn.
“Mum.” It was halfway between a greeting and a warning.
“Hi sweetheart.” She leaned up and kissed my cheek before turning to Bliss.
“Mum, this is Bliss. Bliss, my mother.”
She smiled. “What a name.”
Bliss knotted her fingers together. “Um . . . thank you?”
Mum’s smile was all red lips, white teeth, and sugared kindness. It was the razor-sharp tongue behind those teeth that I was worried about.
“Mrs. Taylor,” Bliss began. “I am so sorry about the vase. I don’t even know how to begin apologizing.”
“Then don’t.” God, my mother’s voice should be listed on WebMD as a cause of frostbite. “It was just an accident after all.”
“I am so very sorry though. And so thankful that you’ve welcomed me into your home. It’s so nice to meet you. And I’m just so, so happy to be here.”
“So you are. And we’re happy that our Garrick has come home. And brought you along, of course.”
“Yes, I’m so happy to be here.”
“You’ve already said that much.” She turned to me then. “She’s very sweet, Garrick. Is it just the clumsiness she’s overcompensating for? Or something worse?”
And so it began.
I laughed like she was joking. Because that’s how you have to handle my mother. She wants a reaction, and humor is the safest one. I kept laughing, and after a few moments, Bliss’s uneasy laugh joined mine.
I changed the subject before Mum could point out that she wasn’t, in fact, joking.
“Was this party your idea, Mother?”
She gave me a look before rolling her eyes toward Dad. “Your father wanted to make sure you and your fiancée had the best welcome possible.”
Read: He wanted to take advantage of the opportunity to show off. The “best welcome” was just the company line. And though my mother certainly had her issues, I loved her for not even pretending to go along with it.
“Right. Thanks for that.”
She gave a single, solitary chuckle and took a long drink from her champagne. Mum hated events like this. I suppose that was at least one thing that she and Bliss had in common.
I saw Bliss fidgeting with her shirt and shifting her feet.
“Mum, would you excuse us for a moment? Since we had no warning, we’re not quite dressed for a party. We’ll get changed and then come back down.”
“Of course, dear. That’s definitely a good idea. Just casual party attire will do fine.”
As we turned to grab our luggage, Bliss said, “In what world is this casual?”
My world, unfortunately. Or my old one anyway.
I took her bag for her, and said, “We’re upstairs. I’m right behind you.”
I didn’t have to tell her twice. At the speed she went, I’m sure she was tempted to take it two stairs at a time.
I directed her toward my old room. She breezed through the door, and didn’t stop until she had thrown herself facedown on the bed with a groan.
“I’m never going back out there. I’ll climb out the window.”
I parked our luggage just inside the room, and then shut the door behind me. I took a seat beside her and laid a hand on her back. “Look on the bright side, we’ve got some alone time after all.”
She rolled over, putting herself farther away from me.
“Sorry, but I’m not exactly in the mood anymore.”
I winced.
“Bliss, I—”
She pushed herself up and off the bed and began pacing. “Why couldn’t you just tell me that she was going to hate me? Why tell me again and again that I was worrying over nothing when I clearly wasn’t?”
“I didn’t want you to worry. I thought things would go smoother if you were calm.”