Shopaholic Ties the Knot
Page 77
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She reaches for a bottle of mineral water, pours out two glasses, and hands one to me. “And that’s not all. Is it, Becky?”
“What do you mean?” I say apprehensively.
“I think there’s another complication you’re not telling me about. To do with the wedding.” She meets my eyes. “Am I right?”
Oh my God.
How did she find out? I’ve been so careful, I’ve been so—
“Am I right?” repeats Christina gently.
For a few more moments I’m completely motionless. Then, very slowly I nod.
It’s almost a relief to think that the secret’s out.
“How did you find out?” I say, sinking back into my chair.
“Laurel told me.”
“Laurel?” A fresh shock runs through me. “But I never—”
“She said it was obvious. Plus you let a few little things slip out… You know, keeping a secret is never as easy as you might think.”
“I just… can’t believe you know. I haven’t dared tell anybody!” I push my hair back off my hot face. “God knows what you think of me now.”
“Nobody thinks any the worse of you,” says Christina. “Really.”
“I never meant things to get this far.”
“Of course you didn’t! Don’t blame yourself.”
“But it’s all my fault!”
“No it’s not. It’s perfectly normal.”
“Normal?”
“Yes! All brides argue with their mothers over the wedding. You’re not the only one, Becky!”
I stare at her confusedly. What did she just say?
“I can understand the strain it’s been putting you under.” Christina looks at me sympathetically. “Especially if you and your mother have always been close in the past?”
Christina thinks…
Suddenly I realize she’s waiting for an answer.
“Er… yes!” I gulp. “It has been… rather difficult.”
Christina nods, as though I’ve confirmed every suspicion she had. “Becky, I don’t often give you advice, do I?”
“Well… no.”
“But I want you to listen to me on this. I want you to remember, this is your wedding. Not your mother’s. It’s yours and Luke’s, and you only get one shot. So do it the way you want to. Believe me, if you don’t, you’ll regret it.”
“Mmm. The thing is…” I swallow. “It’s not quite that simple—”
“It is that simple. It’s exactly that simple. Becky, it’s your wedding. It’s your wedding.”
Her voice is clear and emphatic and I stare at her, glass halfway to my lips, feeling as though a shaft of light is cutting through the cloud.
It’s my wedding. I’ve never thought of it like that before.
It’s not Mum’s wedding. It’s not Elinor’s wedding. It’s mine.
“It’s easy to fall into the trap of wanting to please your mother too much,” Christina is saying. “It’s a natural, generous instinct. But sometimes you have to put yourself first. When I got married—”
“You were married?” I say in surprise. “I didn’t know that.”
“A long time ago. It didn’t work out. Maybe it didn’t work out because I hated every moment of the wedding. From the processional music to the vows that my mother insisted on writing.” Her hand tenses around a plastic water stirrer. “From the lurid blue cocktails to that tacky, tacky dress…”
“Really? That’s awful!”
“It’s water under the bridge now.” The water stirrer snaps and she gives me a slightly brittle smile. “But just bear my words in mind. It’s your day. Yours and Luke’s. Do it the way you want, and don’t feel guilty about it. And Becky?”
“Yes?”
“Remember, you and your mother are both adults now. So have an adult conversation.” She raises her eyebrows. “You might be surprised at how it turns out.”
Christina is so right.
As I make my way home, I can suddenly see everything clearly. My whole approach to the wedding has changed. I feel full of a fresh, clean determination. This is my wedding. It’s my day. And if I want to get married in New York, then that’s where I’ll get married. If I want to wear a Vera Wang dress, then that’s what I’ll wear. It’s ridiculous to feel guilty about it.
I’ve been putting off talking to Mum for far too long. I mean, what am I expecting her to do, burst into tears? We’re both adults. We’ll have a sensible, mature conversation and I’ll put forward my point of view calmly, and the whole thing will be sorted out, once and for all. God, I feel liberated. I’m going to call her straight away.
“What do you mean?” I say apprehensively.
“I think there’s another complication you’re not telling me about. To do with the wedding.” She meets my eyes. “Am I right?”
Oh my God.
How did she find out? I’ve been so careful, I’ve been so—
“Am I right?” repeats Christina gently.
For a few more moments I’m completely motionless. Then, very slowly I nod.
It’s almost a relief to think that the secret’s out.
“How did you find out?” I say, sinking back into my chair.
“Laurel told me.”
“Laurel?” A fresh shock runs through me. “But I never—”
“She said it was obvious. Plus you let a few little things slip out… You know, keeping a secret is never as easy as you might think.”
“I just… can’t believe you know. I haven’t dared tell anybody!” I push my hair back off my hot face. “God knows what you think of me now.”
“Nobody thinks any the worse of you,” says Christina. “Really.”
“I never meant things to get this far.”
“Of course you didn’t! Don’t blame yourself.”
“But it’s all my fault!”
“No it’s not. It’s perfectly normal.”
“Normal?”
“Yes! All brides argue with their mothers over the wedding. You’re not the only one, Becky!”
I stare at her confusedly. What did she just say?
“I can understand the strain it’s been putting you under.” Christina looks at me sympathetically. “Especially if you and your mother have always been close in the past?”
Christina thinks…
Suddenly I realize she’s waiting for an answer.
“Er… yes!” I gulp. “It has been… rather difficult.”
Christina nods, as though I’ve confirmed every suspicion she had. “Becky, I don’t often give you advice, do I?”
“Well… no.”
“But I want you to listen to me on this. I want you to remember, this is your wedding. Not your mother’s. It’s yours and Luke’s, and you only get one shot. So do it the way you want to. Believe me, if you don’t, you’ll regret it.”
“Mmm. The thing is…” I swallow. “It’s not quite that simple—”
“It is that simple. It’s exactly that simple. Becky, it’s your wedding. It’s your wedding.”
Her voice is clear and emphatic and I stare at her, glass halfway to my lips, feeling as though a shaft of light is cutting through the cloud.
It’s my wedding. I’ve never thought of it like that before.
It’s not Mum’s wedding. It’s not Elinor’s wedding. It’s mine.
“It’s easy to fall into the trap of wanting to please your mother too much,” Christina is saying. “It’s a natural, generous instinct. But sometimes you have to put yourself first. When I got married—”
“You were married?” I say in surprise. “I didn’t know that.”
“A long time ago. It didn’t work out. Maybe it didn’t work out because I hated every moment of the wedding. From the processional music to the vows that my mother insisted on writing.” Her hand tenses around a plastic water stirrer. “From the lurid blue cocktails to that tacky, tacky dress…”
“Really? That’s awful!”
“It’s water under the bridge now.” The water stirrer snaps and she gives me a slightly brittle smile. “But just bear my words in mind. It’s your day. Yours and Luke’s. Do it the way you want, and don’t feel guilty about it. And Becky?”
“Yes?”
“Remember, you and your mother are both adults now. So have an adult conversation.” She raises her eyebrows. “You might be surprised at how it turns out.”
Christina is so right.
As I make my way home, I can suddenly see everything clearly. My whole approach to the wedding has changed. I feel full of a fresh, clean determination. This is my wedding. It’s my day. And if I want to get married in New York, then that’s where I’ll get married. If I want to wear a Vera Wang dress, then that’s what I’ll wear. It’s ridiculous to feel guilty about it.
I’ve been putting off talking to Mum for far too long. I mean, what am I expecting her to do, burst into tears? We’re both adults. We’ll have a sensible, mature conversation and I’ll put forward my point of view calmly, and the whole thing will be sorted out, once and for all. God, I feel liberated. I’m going to call her straight away.
