Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 48685 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48685 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
Okay, why is he so jumpy? And who is he texting so much?
Across the room, at the other end of our table, Matt observes us and I sense from his stare that he also thinks that something isn’t quite right with his son.
That’s it. I start to stand up, ready to have a hard conversation with my fiancé about what in the world is going on.
“Marky, we need to go outside and talk.”
Marky looks at me from the corner of his eye.
“Not right now Cora, you heard my dad,” he whispers. “They’re going to do the toasts any minute now.”
“I don’t care, we need to – ” but before I can pull Marky up to make him step outside with me, I notice my mom standing up a few chairs down, clinking a fork delicately against her glass. Waiters are walking around the room, filling up champagne flutes and passing them around to the guests.
Marky looks up at me with raised eyebrows and I sit back down quietly.
Toasts. I settle back into my chair. I guess this will have to wait.
“Cora, Marky, you darling children.” My mom begins and immediately sniffles a little. “Sorry, it’s just so strange to be standing here. Just yesterday, it seems like Cora was a little girl, hiding my keys so I couldn’t go to work.” The guests laugh politely. “And now here she is, a successful bookstore owner and engaged to the man of her dreams.” My mom smiles tearily. “Oh yes, she used to scribble Mrs. Cora Harrison all over her notebooks during high school.” The guests roar with laughter.
“It’s true, it’s true.” I smile good-naturedly at those seated closest to me. Beside me, Marky is smiling too, but he’s also distracted by his buzzing phone. My mom continues.
“In all seriousness, no one can ever really prepare you for the moment when your only child tells you that she’s engaged. When Cora got home from the night Marky proposed, she was so happy she was glowing. And look at my baby girl here today.” My mom smiles at me. “I know that she and Marky are going to have a wonderful life together. To the happy couple!”
Everyone raises his or her glass of champagne.
“To the happy couple,” they chime in unison. I nudge Marky and he finally looks up from his incessant messaging. He shoots me a weak smile, and we clink glasses and take a sip.
“Kiss, kiss!” Hadley chants in a singsong voice while she hits a knife against her champagne flute. I laugh and smile and lean over for a kiss from Marky. He dodges my lips and plants a quick peck on my cheek.
Okay, no PDA. I try to ignore how hurtful his slight is and turn back to the group to await the next speech.
For the next ten minutes, different friends or family members stand up to toast us. Hadley jokes about playing wedding when we were kids and why this is the reason I opened a romance novel bookstore. One of the Harrison cousins talks about how when he and Marky were little, how they used to chase girls and spray them with water hoses. Even Aunt Sue, drunk on who knows how many glasses of wine, starts to recount her own love story before my mom encourages her to sit down and eat something.
In so many ways, it’s the perfect engagement party – filled with awkward relatives and silly stories and too much booze.
But one thing isn’t perfect, and that’s my fiancé.
While I try my best to focus on the different toasts, I’m starting to feel overwhelmingly frustrated with Marky’s disinterest, and even worse, how pained he looks during some of the speeches.
At first I decide his reaction might be because some of the stories are a little too private or embarrassing, but even the sweet moments cause him to wince or look away.
What the hell is going on?
On more than one occasion, I find myself elbowing Marky so that he remembers to clap or sip his drink at the right moment.
“Who are you texting?” I ask him out of the side of my mouth while we wait for yet another relative to sit down from an impassioned speech.
“No one, it’s nothing.” Marky smiles at me and for a second, I think maybe I’m being too judgmental, but then I notice Marky glancing down at his phone again.
“Marky, can we just go outside for a minute and discuss this – ”
“Just stop, Cora, please,” Marky pleads. “I said we could talk about it later, I promise.” Seeing the distressed look in Marky’s pretty blue eyes and sensing that he really is upset, I back off.
“Okay, of course. I’m sorry.” I smile at him weakly and he nods at me. We turn away from each other, and I feel like my heart is beating too fast.