Velvet had been about to leave the house when her son’s car pulled up the driveway. Looking out the bay window she unbuttoned her heavy raincoat and slipped it off. He had someone with him, it looked like. Interesting.
Striding to the front hall Velvet re-hung her coat on the coat tree and rushed to open the door. It was raining fairly steadily now and she didn’t want her guests to have to stand out in it. The driver’s and passenger’s doors slammed one after the other and two young folks were hustling up the driveway, heads bent against the freezing rain. Velvet stepped back a little as they neared the entryway.
“Don’t either of you have an umbrella!?” She exclaimed warmly as her son stopped to let the young lady inside before him. Velvet was smiling.
Her son had only very infrequently brought young ladies home. And he had never done so without calling first, or without the excuse of some occasion or party. “Come in come in!” she bubbled, closing the door behind Grey as he shook some water off his suit jacket. “Oh, don’t you look nice!” she cooed and placed a kiss on his rain-slick cheek.
Velvet turned to the young lady. She was a petite little thing, much shorter than Grey, with dark eyes and dark, thick curls. Her skin was a creamy cappuccino color. She was lovely. “My goodness!” Velvet laughed. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit? You just caught me—two minutes later and you’d have found an empty house.”
She was always very glad to see her son. He was gingerly trying to restore his hair style. She knew she shouldn’t, but she favored her son more than her daughters. It was all she could do to restrain herself from wrapping him in a big hug. He was rarely ever home now that he was in college and her heart swelled at the sight of him.
Velvet looked again at the young woman. She appeared a bit reticent.
“Grey Delaney,” she chided lovingly, “Won’t you introduce me to your lovely friend?”
Grey smiled, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.
“How rude of me.” He turned and stepped forward smartly to make formal introductions. He was always making fun of her fondness for proper etiquette. She clucked her tongue but smiled.
“Mother,” he began, overly-formal, “May I introduce Maggie.” He paused as Velvet reached to shake the girl’s hand. “—My wife.”
Velvet willed herself to remain placid but she couldn’t help the way her body locked up. She was frozen, a smile fixed on her lips, her eyes wide.
The girl shook her now-limp hand gently. “Pleased to meet you Mrs. Delaney,” said the girl politely “You have a lovely home.”
Velvet didn’t know quite what to say, but knew she didn’t want to make the girl any more uncomfortable than she already was.
“Oh.” Velvet said. “Oh.” She looked at Grey, his face was unreadable, a mild, polite mask. “Oh.” Velvet repeated.
The girl bit her lower lip and tried to smile.
Velvet shook herself. Without another word she hugged the startled girl and then, when she had her at arm’s length again she finally managed to find language. “Congratulations!” She sincerely wished it had sounded less confused. She turned to her son and tried again. “Congratulations!” She took his face in her hands and pulled his cheek down for a kiss, which he dutifully allowed.
Neither of the young people looked to be in a celebratory mood. “I’m sorry I—“ Velvet laughed a little, shaking her head. “I’m sorry to be so flustered; I just, I didn’t even know Grey was seeing anyone.” The girl licked her lips and Grey blinked rapidly.
Nobody spoke. Velvet shivered a little, wet from hugging the rain-soaked young woman.
“I’m sorry, Maggie, did you say?”
She nodded.
“It’s lovely to meet you Maggie.” Velvet felt like a perfect idiot. What in the hell was Grey up to?
“You too Mrs. Delaney” she answered promptly. She sounded apologetic.
“Please, call me Velvet.” The girl smiled but did not say anything more. She glanced at Grey and Velvet followed her eyes. He was smiling an ironic sort of smile.
“Well this calls for champagne, doesn’t it?” Velvet said into the awkwardness. “Please, come into the parlor.”
Grey chuckled. “Make mine a scotch please.”
“It isn’t even noon!” His mother scolded as she hustled out of the front hall and into the parlor.
“A Bloody Mary then.”
Velvet swallowed a tart retort and reached for three champagne flutes. She worried her bottom lip. She didn’t have any champagne chilled.
“You eloped?” she asked, to neither one in particular. She tried not to let her disappointment bleed into her tone. She’d dreamt of her son’s wedding day more than she cared to admit to herself. Was this how her mother had felt when she’d eloped with Grey’s father?
Velvet watched Grey offer Maggie a seat in a wing chair before settling into its twin. They behaved like barely cordial strangers.
“Well I’m not sure you can call it eloping, exactly.” Grey said as he settled into his chair, casually resting his right ankle over his left knee. “We haven’t gone anywhere.”
“Oh did you—today?” Velvet had assumed they’d gone away for the weekend or something.
“We came right from city hall.” he said in his most charming voice.
“Oh Grey!” She said, not sure if she was going to cry or laugh or rage. “I wish I’d known.”
He shrugged. “Surprise.” His tone was dry, mirthless.
Maggie cleared her throat quietly and looked at her hands where they were folded in her lap. Velvet listened to the steady tick of the grandfather clock in the hall for several moments. She had so many questions, yet she didn’t want to seem rude or unwelcoming.
“I’m afraid I don’t have any champagne chilled,” she said, at a loss. “Will Riesling do?” It really ought to be champagne, but how often did one simply have a bottle on hand for such an occasion? With no advanced notice, not even a hint.
“Actually, Mum, Maggie isn’t feeling all that well at present. “ The girl turned her head sharply to stare at him. “Better make hers a ginger ale.”
When Maggie didn’t say anything to contradict him Velvet nodded. “Of course dear.”
It didn’t feel right, not toasting with champagne, it felt as if it wasn’t real, wasn’t official. But she retrieved an adorable individual serving can of ginger ale from the mini refrigerator and poured it into the champagne flute. After a moment she decided to do the same for all of them.
With a smile she handed a glass first to Maggie and then to Grey and finally lifted her own. “Congratulations on your marriage” she said, wishing she could have been more original, “May it be a long and happy one.” She touched her glass to Maggie’s and then to Grey’s. Neither of them smiled. They all drank.
Velvet stood in place for a moment, a little unsure of what to do with herself. “Have you told your father?” She asked Grey. He shook his head and drank some more of his ginger-ale, looking for all the world that he wished it was scotch.
“And your parents dear?” she addressed Maggie, who was twirling the stem of the ginger-ale flute nervously between her fingers.
“We came here first.” Grey answered for her.
Velvet melted, despite his clipped tone. “I’m so thrilled.” She meant it. She was thrown for a loop, she was certainly confused, but her heart was beginning to swell with sentiment. Her son was married!
Grey looked as if he couldn’t be less thrilled.
“Oh my goodness, what will your parents say about this elopement?!” Velvet sat on the corner of the sofa nearest Maggie’s wing chair.
Maggie pushed a smile and laughed nervously. “My father will not be thrilled that it was a civil ceremony.” She admitted, her brow creasing slightly.
“Oh, is your family religious?” She asked carefully.
“We are.” Maggie answered. “Catholic.” She added when Velvet made no comment.
“Oh Catholic weddings are so lovely.” Was all Velvet could say. She’d been raised a protestant in the very loosest of terms. The devotion and ceremony and zeal of the Catholics always made her feel slightly alarmed. But she did enjoy the art work.
They all sipped their ginger-ales in silence.
“Well I think I should like to take you out to brunch!” Velvet finally declared.
Grey and Maggie began to protest, but Velvet would hear none of it. “I’ll call your father at work and ask him if he can’t join us at Riverfront, and of course we’ll invite your folks too, would they be able to make it?” Velvet felt the most in control when she was arranging luncheons; the task set her at ease and filled her with purpose.
Maggie opened and closed her mouth several times before she finally resigned to a nod.
“Wonderful!” Velvet clasped her hands in relief. “Maggie, come upstairs with me and we’ll find you something dry to wear!” The girl was so petite they’d have to raid Viola’s wardrobe. Velvet hoped her daughter owned at least some suitable items.
Grey raised his eyebrows but otherwise had no response. Maggie rose and mutely followed behind her new mother-in-law.
“Grey, be an angel and call ahead—they can tend to fill up for brunch.” She didn’t wait to hear his response.
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