Authors: Danielle Sibarium
Chapter 40
Carter
I thought if I let the subject drop for now, she'd be more receptive later. Elizabeth thought it was a matter of trust, that I didn't trust her with my father. That wasn't it at all. At least not completely. I was scared. Scared to death of losing her and falling into an abyss once again.
I made it out the first time. I clawed my way to the top and poked my head out of the ground from time to time, but there was something welcoming and comforting in that darkness. Only after meeting Elizabeth did I stand to my full height, dust myself off, and step away from the hole I'd been hiding in. I couldn't do that again. I didn't want to go through the effort.
Chapter 41
Elizabeth
We arrived at the tall Bay Ridge apartment building at dusk Christmas Day. On the ride up the elevator, I pulled my ring off and tucked it safely in my pocket. I felt Carter's eyes on me and knew I owed him an explanation.
"I'd like them to get to know you a little before we spring it on them."
"Oh." I heard the disappointment in Carter's voice. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize this would be a problem."
"It's not." I was quick to answer, "And I don't mean I won’t tell them tonight, I just mean not right out of the gate."
"Got you."
The elevator doors opened, and I took Carter's hand and led him to the apartment. I didn't bother knocking. I turne
d the knob and let us in.
The apartment, while much smaller than Aunt Rose's beautiful home, was just as festive.
The tree had been decorated with all of the ornaments Violet and I made and collected throughout our lives. Boughs hung draped across the walls, and holiday music boxes were spread about. Only the burning fire was missing from the scene.
"Mom, Dad, we're here."
My parents came rushing from the kitchen. I hoped to help my mother cook and prepare for dinner while giving my father time to get acquainted with Carter, but it looked like they had it all taken care of.
"Where's violet?"
I asked.
"She'll be here soon." My father answered. "She got a crazy idea in her head that it would be okay to go wish her
friend
a Merry Christmas."
Surprised his baby girl wasn't within arm’s reach right before Christmas dinner, I felt a little relieved. This meant my parents could talk to Carter and get to know him without Violet's opinion coloring them. We all knew if Violet didn't like him, neither would my parents.
"Mom, Dad, this is Carter. And Carter, these are my parents, Louis and Anne Jennings."
I watched my father reach out to shake Carter's hand with both of his own. That was the handshake he reserved only for those that really mattered to him. All others received th
e standard, single right hand.
"It'
s a pleasure to meet you, son."
"Thank you, sir, Ma'am."
"Oh please don't call me that. It makes me feel old. And the last thing you ever want is to make a lady feel old. And don't call me Mrs. Jennings; you'll have me looking over my shoulder for my mother-in-law. Call me Anne."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Anne." He smiled, unleashing his dimples on my mother.
"Come in, and make yourself comfortable," Dad turned and headed for the living room. Not quite the reception I received at Aunt Rose, but definitely not cold and adversarial like Carter’s mother.
I knew I should go into the kitchen and help. I felt nervous leaving Carter with my father. I hadn’t wanted his approval so bad since I was a kid. Once I heard them laugh together, I exhaled, knowing it was going to be okay. These were the parents I adored, and Carter was the man I loved.
What could possibly go wrong?
Most everything was ready before I arrived. My mother assigned me busy work in the kitchen, I guessed so we could spend some time alone. She knew I'd be more comfortable coming clean about Carter if we were alone. I waited, but the interrogation never came.
*
After the preparations were completed and the table set I brought out a few bottles of beer for Carter and my father, and filled a glass with eggnog for myself. I slipped into the space on the couch next to Carter, feeling like there was nothing more natural in the world, like this was part of a comfortable routine we'd fallen into.
His arm came around my shoulder, and he held me close to him, never taking his eyes off my father. They were making small talk, discussing off season baseball acquisitions.
I knew my father was enjoying this. He loved all sports, and had a hell of time making conversations with any of Violet's boyfriends. They weren't exactly the athletic types, and I was quite sure he didn't want to delve into a deep analysis with Violet's latest beau over why he was given the nickname Spike.
After a few minutes of snuggling, I felt invigorated. I got up and stared out the fifth floor window to the park across the street. It was empty, the trees bare. Still it made me feel at home.
“Could still get some snow for Christmas,” my mother said placing her arm around my shoulder. “You used to think it was magic when it snowed on Christmas.”
I looked up at the thick grey sky. The clouds looked pregnant with the promise of snow. Imagining the falling crystal flakes filled me with a warm sensation.
“I still do.”
My mother took a long look at me, a funny look in her eye as she did. “You are absolutely glowing. You’re in love with him aren’t you?”
I felt relieved she could see that just by looking at me. It would make learning about the engagement that much easier. I nodded. The corners of her lips drew up into a smile, “This is it, Mom. He’s
the
one.”
“I knew it must be serious when you told me he’d be joining us for the holiday but I had no idea it was that serious.”
“I just hope Dad doesn’t say anything to blow it.”
My mother shook her head, “You know how overprotective he is.” She paused a moment, “But Violet will be here any minute to rescue Carter. Hopefully your father will be too occupied trying to pry into her love life that he won’t make too much of yours.”
“If he hasn’t already.”
I cringed at the thought of my father telling Carter childhood stories I'd long forgotten. Still I preferred the temporary discomfort his tales may bring to being completely
overlooked like I usually was.
For as long as I could remember, I took a back seat to my sister, especially with my father. Violet was his baby. The delicate flower he feared would wither and die if he did not dev
ote every waking moment to it.
I loved Violet. She wasn't yet the best friend I hoped she'd morph into over the years, but we were on our way. Ever since Mason, I started trusting her with more of my secrets, and found out she wasn't the perfect angel
my parents thought she was.
I also resented her.
Mostly because Violet was a younger, more polished version of myself. As infants we looked alike. So much so, the only way to tell us apart was by size. She was longer and leaner. As she aged her complexion was flawless, like porcelain. And my mother would tell her so, often. I only had to deal with the occasional zit, but still I was reminded constantly that my skin wasn't as flawless as Violet's.
Her features were finer, sharper,
more delicate than mine. Her eyes just a drop bigger, her nose, although the exact same shape as mine looked better on her. As we grew she was the beautiful one, I was the smart one, the sensible one. Even now, Violet stood two inches taller than me, redistributing the same hundred and twenty pounds.
Growing up she hung around me and my friends, honing her social skills. A talent Violet often exploited to make
herself the center of attention wherever she went. I wasn’t jealous. I wanted only the best for my sister, but this evening was mine. I wanted to be the shining star-with both my parents and Carter.
The doorbell rang. I held my breath as I headed for it, concerned for the first time about Carter meeting my sister. What if he, like everyone else, found Violet more e
nticing? What if she liked him?
We didn't have the same taste in guys, but I couldn't imagine anyone being able to resist Carter. He might not look like Spike, but his personality and his sexual appetite seemed to be more her speed. I was more likely to date a stuffed shirt.
I made a move to answer the door, wondering why she didn't just let herself in. The door opened while I was less than a foot away.
Honing in on my fear, Violet cut to the quick. “Hey sis, you don’t seem happy to see me. What gives?” she goaded as she threw her arms around me.
“What are you talking about? I’m thrilled as always.”
“Of course you are. Isn’t everyone?" she winked. "So where is he?” Violet tried to look over my shoulder.
“Is that my little girl?” my father bellowed getting off the couch and walking over to greet Violet.
“Mom told you?” I whispered.
Violet pulled herself out of the embrace with my father and smirked, “Not Mom. Dad.”
My mouth went dry. I didn't know what to say.
“He waited up for me the other night and went on and on for an hour.”
I stared at my father and sister speechless until I felt Carter’s arm around my shoulder.
“Well, well. You must be Carter.” Violet extended her hand in a friendly gesture.
“Guilty,” he answered.
“You certainly are easy on the eyes.”
“Violet!”
Embarrassed and afraid of his reaction, I felt my face turn red. No way I would leave them alone for a minute.
“Are you rich, too?”
Carter opened his mouth to answer but Violet interrupted, “I’m just teasing. Besides, that's more my thing then Beth's. She actually cares what a guy’s like on the inside.”
Violet continued to bring a playful tension to the small crowd. She took control of the conversation and as usual, became the focus of the small group. I thought myself lucky Violet didn’t have a major crisis going on, or else no one would even care
that I was getting married.
It was time. My whole family was together, they seemed to like Carter. I had no reason to procrastinate any longer. Before sitting at the dinner table I nonchalantly slipped th
e engagement ring on my finger.
Once everyone settled into their seats and mom heaped her usual large servings of food onto the plates, the third degree began all over again. All the questions Carter answered earlier while getting acquainted with my
father were back on the table.
“How did you meet?”
“How long have you been dating?”
“What do you do?”
I thought this won them over for sure.
"I'm a behaviorist. I work in early intervention with autistic children."
My father squinted his eyes, his nose crinkled. "Wow. That must be difficult. And there are so many children diagnosed with it today. It's like an epidemic."
"It's a huge issue, and it doesn't get nearly as much attention as it should."
I watched Carter lean forward in his chair and speak passionately, not only about what he did, but about the kids he worked with. He gave examples of children whose life he turned around. He explained while that was always the goal, it was not always the outcome.
Violet interrupted with a surprising question, “When’s the wedding?”
“Violet,” mom began, “that’s not an appropriate question. Why look at poor Carter,” my mother motioned her hand in his direction. “You’ve made him blush.”
“Maybe he’s blushing because someone finally figured out they’re engaged.”
“Engaged?” my father bellowed.
“Are you all blind?” Violet reached over the table and raised my left hand. “They’re engaged.”
A cloud of anger and disappointment covered my father's face. “Engaged? When did this happen?”
“Sir, I apologize for springing this on you. In fact, I surprised myself when I walked out of the store with the ring.”
“So this was an ill thought, impulsive decision?”
“No.”
“You just said you weren’t planning on purchasing the ring.”
Carter cleared his throat trying to buy himself time. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair bef
ore taking my hand in his own.
“I knew from the moment I met Elizabeth she was special.”
“She’s special all right,” Violet interjected. “I don’t see what the problem is, Dad. You’ve been complaining for years there’s not a guy out there that’ll be crazy enough to marry her.”
“Shut up!” I threw my napkin across the table at her.
“Girls!” Mom shouted.
“Sorry,” we said at the same time.
My father shook his head. “My daughter is too young. She's barely out of college. There’s no reason to rush into marriage. It's a serious commitment and to treat it so casually . . .”
“I'm old enough to make my own decisions and we’re not rushing.”
Dad put his arm on the table and leaned toward me with a menacing look. I thought he might even send me to my room. “I want to know right now. Are you pregnant?”