Wedding Planning

“Who has Ben asked to fill the extra groomsman spot?”  Avalon’s mother asked, then took a small bite of her field green salad.

It was Monday afternoon and they’d had plans to get together to start planning the invitations and the menu and all manner of other things for the wedding.  However.  Avalon had spent the last half an hour listening to her mother rattle on and on about Maggie and Grey.  Avalon was so damned tired of hearing about, thinking about, pretending to care at all about Maggie and Grey that she thought her head might explode from the effort it was taking not to flip out at her frustratingly clueless mother.

And now?  The first wedding-related question she asks all afternoon and it has to do entirely with Maggie?  Avalon thought she might just lose it.  She calmly lifted her ice water to her lips, wishing it were a soda but soda has too many calories, and she held her features perfectly still while she sipped. 

Ben wouldn’t need to go fishing for an extra groomsman if her mother hadn’t absolutely insisted Avalon include Maggie in the bridal party.  ‘But Ava, darling, she’s your sister now!  She’s family!  You wouldn’t want to exclude family!’

Ugh.  She’d have looked like the world’s biggest bitch if she’d refused.  Even though asking a complete stranger to be in one’s wedding seemed to Avalon to be absolute lunacy.  Apparently if the complete stranger elopes with your stupid bastard of a brother they just have to be a bridesmaid!

“Ethan.”  Avalon replied after swallowing and setting her cool glass back onto the table.

Velvet chewed thoughtfully for a moment, then swallowed, took a drink of her own ice water and smiled that dazzling Velvet Delaney smile.  “Ethan Harcourt?” 

“Mmmhmm.”  Avalon replied dispassionately.

Velvet looked sly.  “But didn’t you and he—“

“Mum.”  Avalon’s brows drew together sharply.

A flash of something mischievous flashed in Velvet’s big pale green eyes and she set her fork down. 

“Does Ben know?”

Avalon licked the inside of her teeth and looked at her mother as sternly as possible.

Her mother giggled in response. 

“This isn’t funny.”  Avalon snapped.

Velvet covered her irrepressible smile with perfectly manicured fingers, but the twinkle in her eyes gave her guilty mirth away.  “I’m so sorry—it’s just—you look so much like your father when you make that face.”  She giggled again before clearing her throat and composing her features into some semblance of calm and appropriate concern.

Avalon picked up her own fork and stabbed ruthlessly at her salad.  She wanted something awful, like pizza or cookies.  She’d kill for a big ole bowl of mashed potatoes with tons of melty butter.  Grimly she opened her mouth to accept the baby spinach, radicchio, and kale with just the barest tease of raspberry vinaigrette.

“I’m sorry.”  Velvet repeated, really trying for an expression of compassion or at least sympathy.  “But, does he?  Does Ben know about you and-“

“Yes.”  Avalon answered.  It was half true.  Ben knew she’d dated his good friend Ethan a few times before they’d become a pair.  He even knew that she’d slept with Ethan.  But he really didn’t know the half of it.  And she would prefer it to remain that way.

Her mother knew more than she was strictly comfortable with.  She’d found the pictures on Avalon’s computer one day when she was trying to put together a damned photo album as a surprise present for Jonah’s birthday a few years back.  Stumbling upon those pictures must have been a real eye-opener.  She’d certainly expressed her concerns at the time. 

Now Velvet looked quite astonished.  “He does?”  She was incredulous.

“Mum, drop it.”

Velvet pressed her lips together and Avalon recognized, from a lifetime of seeing her do it, that her mother was struggling very, very hard to control her tongue. 

Just as she always did, Avalon began a silent count in her head, a silent count to see how many Mississippis it would take before Velvet inevitably lost the private little battle and succumbed to her inability to govern her mouth.

One Mississippi.  Two Mississippi.  Three Mississippi.  Four Mississippi.  Five Mississi—

“Has he seen the pictures?!” 

Mother and daughter both paused to sigh out in unison.  Velvet looked apologetic and Avalon tried to feel forgiving.  Afterall, it wasn’t her fault.  The woman was like a giddy child.  All heart and very little self-control.

“I am not discussing this one minute more.”  Avalon replied as civilly as she could manage.  “And you promised you would never mention those pictures again.”

Again Velvet looked apologetic.  She even blushed just a little.  “Sorry.”

Avalon nodded her acceptance of the apology and took another bite of her salad while her mother sipped some more water.  Then Avalon’s eyes flew open wide.  “Oh my god, you didn’t tell Dad, did you?  Oh my god, tell me you never told Dad.  Tell me he doesn’t know—oh jesus, you didn’t show him right?”  Avalon’s mouth was dry and she felt panicky.

Velvet looked stunned.  “No, of course not, no, honey—no, absolutely he has no idea, Av—I wouldn’t do that to you.”  She soothed and assured quickly and with enough conviction that Avalon allowed herself to calm down, to relax.  “No, honey.”  Her mother repeated solemnly.  “I love your father and want him around a while longer.  I have no desire to give him a heart attack.”

Avalon’s eyes widened and she gaped at her mother.  The tiniest hint of a smile flitted across Velvet’s oh-so-innocent expression and her pale green eyes danced with merriment.

Avalon burst into laughter.  What else could she do?  Cry about it?  She laughed deeply and fully.  Her mother joined in readily and they laughed for several full minutes before managing to settle back down.

“Have you ever done any of that stuff with Ben?”  Her mother asked suddenly, her voice low and giddy and hungry for juicy gossip.

Avalon was still tingling and merry from the cathartic bout of laughter so instead of getting sour at the probing invasion of privacy, she grinned.  “Wouldn’t you just love to know.”  She teased.

Her mother grinned back.  Avalon waited until her mother had lifted her water glass once more to get her payback.  As her mother sipped Avalon asked casually:  “Have you ever done that stuff with Dad?”

The spit-take was perfect.  Paragon Velvet Delaney expelled a spray of water out over the table with the full force of her surprise and, judging by the smile, her delighted amusement.

Avalon laughed, satisfied with her little victory, and set her salad fork down on the plate now that her meal was covered in a mist of her mother’s spittle.  It was a necessary sacrifice.

“Avalon Grace!”  Her mother responded when she’d stopped giggling.  Then she tisked.  “That’ll teach me, I guess.”

Avalon leaned back in her seat and sighed, knowing that Velvet Delaney would never learn.  She knew her mother would always probe too deeply; ask questions that were far too personal and private.  She was unstoppable and she was tenacious. 

“And I’m not answering one way or the other,”  She said with a coy little smile as she dabbed her face with a napkin.  “But when you’re looking for something old and borrowed, if I were you I’d avoid the trunk in my bedroom closet unless you want to see things you can’t un-see.”

“Ugh!”  Avalon groaned.  “Gross, Mum!”  Velvet was giggling hysterically as she stood and collected their salad plates and shuttled them off to the counter near the sink.  “I wish I could un-hear what you just said!”  She shivered and tried desperately to stop picturing her Mum and Dad doing some of the things she’d been into with Ethan.  Bleck.

“Oh Avalon relax.  There’s nothing that hasn’t been done before.  The ancient Greeks—“

“Mum, please, for God’s sake!”  She was half-laughing but she was very firm in her tone.

“But it’s natural to want to experiment—“

“Holy God, shut your trap, for five minutes, just zip your lips, can you?”  She half-laughed and half wished she were just having a terrible dream.  “I don’t care what you and dad do, I just really really really do not need to know about it.”  She rushed desperately.  “Or think about it.  Or imagine it in any way.”  It was bad enough she’d grown up listening to it from two bedrooms away. 

Her mother giggled again but she relented.  “I hope your children are more accepting of your lovelife then you are of mine.”  She teased pleasantly.

“Let’s talk wedding, please, can we?”

Velvet grinned as she filled the kettle for tea.  “So Ethan Harcourt, hmm?”  She chuckled merrily and moved the kettle over to the stove.  “I wonder what other delightful little surprises we’ll get as this wedding draws nearer!”

Avalon rolled her eyes as she pulled a legal pad and pen from her wedding-planning-canvas-ecofriendly-bag.  No more surprises.  Please?  Pretty please with a cherry on top?

She slapped the pad down on the table and began scribbling down the names of her bridesmaids, junior bridesmaids and flower girls on one side, and on the other she listed the groomsmen, junior usher, and ringbearer.

She frowned at the list.  She’d slept with more of the listed parties than she was strictly comfortable with.  And the other ones were her blood relatives.  Or children.

She rolled her eyes to the heavens.  No more surprises, ok?  No more little speed bumps or screw-ups, or anything like that.  K?  You got that?  Are you hearing this? 

“Hey—“  Her mother said, slipping back into her seat and dabbing at the rest of the sprayed water droplets with a dishtowel.  “Does Ben know about you and his cousin?”

Avalon grimaced.  Maybe she should just elope.

“Or, actually, I should say cousins—both of them, right?“

She almost wished they were still talking about goddamn Grey and Maggie.

Family Dinner; Part Eleven

“I have some gifts for the newlyweds.”  Velvet breathed, giddy and tremulous.  Around her in the living room her family seemed to be enjoying the out-of-season strawberry shortcake and desert wine.  It had been a lovely evening. 

She’d thought her heart would positively melt when Grey’d kissed his bride for them all.  She hadn’t seen the couple behave very demonstratively, Velvet thought maybe Catholics forbade public displays of affection, and to see the tenderness and warmth he’d put into the kiss, and to see the clear adoration in Maggie’s face when she’d gazed up at him, oh, Velvet just couldn’t take how happy she was feeling tonight!

“Gifts?”  Grey asked around a mouthful of strawberries.

“This evening has been gift enough—“  Maggie hurried.  “Really, you’ve been so generous already—“

Velvet tittered and waved a hand dismissively.  “We love you both so much!”

Maggie and Grey met eyes and seemed to be communicating silently.  Velvet took the time to seek out her own husband’s eyes.  He was frowning across the room at Viola, at something the girl had done or said.

“Jonah?”  Velvet called lightly.

He looked over sharply.  “Yes Dear?”

Velvet smiled.  “The gifts.”

He took a second or two before understanding dawned.  “Ah, yes.”  He said, placing his bowl of shortcake on a side table and standing to join her by the hearth.

“Mum, Dad, really—“ Grey began, but Velvet cut him off.

“The first one is for Maggie.”  She said warmly, lifting a carefully wrapped rectangular box from the wide surface of the mantle and crossing to where Grey and Maggie were seated on the loveseat. 

She wanted to give the girl space to open the gift but didn’t want to take her eyes off her for a second, so she walked backwards all the way back to Jonah.

With the gift in her lap Maggie handed her bowl to Grey, who took it dutifully and deposited both their desserts onto the coffee table. 

Velvet watched Maggie carefully peel the tape from the wrapping paper and ease the parcel open to reveal the handsomely bound photo album.  The girl’s face was serious and maybe faintly puzzled.

“Open it up.”  Encouraged Velvet excitedly.  “I put it together for you while you two were upstate.”

Maggie’s eyes lifted to Velvet’s and she gave a shy smile before returning her gaze to the non-descript leather volume in her lap.  Gently, carefully, as if it were made of gossamer, the girl lifted the front cover open and became very still.

“There’s an inscription—“  Velvet pressed, her enthusiasm making her bounce on the balls of her feet just a little.  She felt a hand on her waist and turned to see Jonah’s kind smile.  With an answering smile she allowed him to pull her close. 

The room was quiet as Maggie read the inscription silently, and Grey craned his neck to read over her shoulder.  “Mum.”  He said softly.

“Mrs. Delaney—“ Maggie added, finishing just after Grey.  Maggie looked up and Velvet was sure the girl’s eyes were filling with tears, which in turn caused her own eyes to well.

“What is it?”  Viola demanded, a little flippant.

“A photo album.”  Jonah responded, when Velvet wasn’t able to.

“Of what?”  Genny asked, trying to peer over the coffee table.

“Me.”  Said Grey in a peculiar voice.  Then he laughed.  “Best present anyone could ask for.” He joked.

Even Velvet laughed.  Maggie was the only one who hadn’t so much as cracked a smile.  The girl was engrossed, turning pages slowly, reverently, devouring each picture with her eyes, her expression shuttered and somber.

“Do you think she likes it?”  Velvet whispered to Jonah.  Her husband’s eyes softened as he watched Maggie and Grey on the loveseat for a moment.  Grey was quietly adding narrative to some of the pictures, explaining  ‘That’s my first day of kindergarten’ or ‘That’s when I got my first bike—“  and “That’s Granny Calder—you’ll meet her soon enough.”

“I think that album means more to her than you know sweetheart.”  He said cryptically and then kissed her forehead with a tiny sigh.

“Oh there’s one in here of you and me Ben.”  Grey said with a laugh.  “On that goddamn boyscout camping trip where you fell into the river.”

“I believe I was pushed, if I recall correctly.”  Ben said with a short laugh.

Avalon got up from where she’d been perched on the arm of Ben’s seat and crossed around behind the loveseat to see the picture.  “I hope Grace does one of these for me.”  She said wistfully.

“Maybe you could drop a hint, Mrs. Delaney?” Ben smiled at her.

Velvet grinned back.  “Velvet.”  She gently reminded the boy.  “I’ll tell her all about it at lunch on Saturday.” She promised.  “And maybe I can persuade Hector to find some of your childhood photos too Maggie.”

Maggie dragged her eyes off the album and smiled wistfully.  “This is beautiful, and so very thoughtful.  Thank you.”

“And there’s something else.”  Jonah said, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing an envelope.  “When you were all young, your mother and I set aside money for you, for the occasion of your wedding or your college graduations.”  He cleared his throat.  “And, well, here we are.”  He smiled.

“It’s for a house.”  Velvet announced, unable to keep her tongue in check.

Maggie’s eyes were so wide it looked as if she’d seen a cartoon ghost.  Grey’s eyes, however, were narrowed and sharp.  Velvet watched her son rise from the loveseat, careful not to disturb the photo album on Maggie’s lap, and cross wordlessly to Jonah. 

When Jonah had handed the envelope to Grey and Grey’d opened it to read the amount on the check, Velvet witnessed a puzzling exchange of glances between the two men. 

“This is a large sum of money, Dad.”  Grey said in a tight voice.

“I suppose it is.” Jonah responded casually.

“And this has been there the whole time?  Just sitting somewhere?  With my name on it?”

Velvet blinked.  What was going on?

“Your mother and I wanted to set something aside for all of you, to help you start your adult lives when the time came.”  Jonah explained slowly, and Velvet got the sense that something was going on beneath the surface.

“Sorry to ruin the surprise, Ava and Ben!”  Velvet laughed sweetly, glancing briefly at her daughter and her fiancé before letting her eyes go to where they felt drawn as if by magnets: to the strangely tense exchange between her husband and son.

“Well this is fantastic.”  Grey said in an expressionless tone.

“We hope it helps.”  Jonah said softly.

Velvet thought Grey’s face twisted into something angry and spiteful, and she shivered a little at how much he looked like Vaughan.  But then he was smiling pleasantly, and Velvet was able to push the image of the boy’s father from her mind.  “You’re far too generous.”

“We hope you’ll buy or build around here!”  She told him, wrapping him in a hug.  “I need to see you privately.”  She whispered in his ear as he returned the hug.

He nodded as he pulled out of the hug and then shook Jonah’s hand firmly.  “I really wasn’t expecting anything like this.”  He told his father, a hard edge to his otherwise charming cadence.

“And this week we’ll see about freeing up your trust, if possible.  Now you’re a family man.”  He smiled across the room at Maggie, who wore an almost pained expression.

“Maggie, I’m sure everyone will want to peek at that photo album with you—they’re all in it too!”  Velvet said brightly.

The room buzzed with conversation and stories and Velvet pulled Jonah aside.  “What was that all about?”

Jonah blinked.  “You know Grey—“  He pressed his lips into a line.  “He’s always on me about freeing up more money from his trust.”

He wasn’t telling her the truth.  Not all of it, or not exactly.  Velvet quite literally didn’t know how to respond.  She’d never known Jonah to be evasive like this.   Should she confront him?  Because it was very clear to her that he was dodging.  “Jonah?”

He swallowed and forced a smile.  “Let’s just celebrate this perfect evening you’ve put together for us all.”

Velvet studied him for a long moment before deciding to drop it.  She’d think about it later.  Right now she had something very important to do. “I’m going to do it now.”  She told him and he took both her hands in his and squeezed gently.

“Want me to come?”  He asked softly, lifting her left hand to his lips and placing a soft kiss on the delicate skin there.

“Maybe come rescue us if we’re gone too long?”  She giggled half-heartedly.

He kissed her ring finger where her wedding band rested against her knuckle.  “Good luck, then.”  He said heavily, and let her go.

She made a little hand motion to Grey, who’d seemed to be waiting for her, and headed toward Jonah’s study, feeling tense and excited, and nervous and bittersweet.  She couldn’t believe this day had finally come.

Family Dinner; Part Ten

Jonah felt tired, and tense, and distinctly like a court jester treading a fine, fickle line between pleasing the tyrant king and stepping a toe into the murky area that could lose him his head.

Throughout dinner he was constantly blunting Velvet’s more innocently pointed questions to the couple about living arrangements, honeymoon escapades, how Grey’d proposed, why they’d decided on elopement, and their plans for a family; good God, it might have been comical if he’d been watching from the outside.  It was as if she were blithely and blindly probing directly into the couple’s secret, into the truth behind their sudden nuptials.

And when it wasn’t Velvet’s innocent but accurate probing, it was Avalon’s barbed comments and deliberate baiting of her brother that Jonah had to contend with.  His sweet, even-keeled daughter had entered his home this evening on the war-path and he had to admit he felt ill-equipped to handle her at present.  She was behaving like a jealous harpy, and no matter how often he’d diffuse one of her loaded little passive-aggressive comments, she’d charge again with another uncharitable, unfriendly gem.  He was embarrassed that Miss Ramirez was meeting his family like this.

And of course there was Grey’s barely concealed animosity toward him, his resentment at being shackled into this loveless marriage and the fact that he placed the blame squarely on Jonah’s shoulders.  There wasn’t much remedy for that but patience, he supposed, patience and a commitment to helping the boy out any and every other way he could.  He still wasn’t confident that Grey wouldn’t go to Velvet with what he suspected about that awful weekend prior.  So he’d dedicated himself to playing the part of referee this evening, doing his part to steer conversation toward calmer waters when threatened by the gorgon to his right or by the unwitting siren song of his doe-eyed wife at the opposite end of the table. 

He’d ask about Maggie’s plans for school, Grey’s opinion on the new appliance line; he’d asked about Mr. Ramirez and the restaurant and about Maggie’s younger sister—a topic which proved to be a good detour, one that allowed Velvet to spring off into multiple innocuous tangents, such as: had Maggie had a quinceanera party? And maybe both families could get together for one huge wedding celebration in honor of Grey and Maggie and in order to get acquainted! Of course the last comment had prompted Avalon to suddenly need something from the kitchen and she hadn’t come back for quite some time.

Through it all the twins remained unflaggingly positive and buoyant, and Ben Sinclair proved to be upbeat and kind as well, and Jonah gave silent thanks for having them all at the table.

And then there was Viola.  Who’d seated herself next to him.  Who insisted on moving her knee against his and searching for his foot with her own under the table.  Who pulled her top lower and lower over the course of the meal and who insisted on trying to use her sister’s fiancée as a prop in her little burlesque designed to make him insane with jealousy.  The result was surprisingly effective and he chided himself for it.  Especially because he took one look at poor Ben Sinclair and could really only pity him, so uncomfortable and trapped did he look by the fifteen-year-old’s maneuvering and manhandling.

At one point Jonah pretended to drop his napkin so that he could get close enough to his daughter to send her a discreet but definite warning.  “I want you to stop what you’re doing to your sister’s fiancée, young lady, I want you to stop it and begin to behave yourself like you should.”

It had worked.  In part.  She layed off Ben, which was nice because it freed the boy up to chat with Maggie, and Jonah believed Maggie appreciated the perspective of the only other ‘new addition’ to the Delaney clan.  However, for whatever reason, Viola had interpreted Jonah’s words as a command to pay all due attention on him.  She lavished him with her interest.  She behaved in the cloying, suffocating manner of a teacher’s pet, or worse, like she believed herself to be a geisha or a harem girl. 

Jonah was very glad there was so much going on at the table, so many conversations serving as distraction, that hardly anyone spared Viola a glance all night.

Her foot games became more ardent, and more than once he’d felt a hand below the table, groping around for him.  He’d spent most of dinner twisted awkwardly in his seat to avoid physical contact with her, accidental and otherwise, and by desert he had a pinching ache in his back from the unnatural contortion.

And her eyes rarely left his face.  She laughed heartily at all his jokes, nodded sycophantically while he told anecdotes about Grey’s childhood, her fingers moved suggestively on her utensils, she called attention to her lips and mouth while she ate and the result had Jonah’s stomach churning with nausea and his plate remained largely untouched.

And when dinner was done and Velvet suggested they take desert in the living room while Jonah tended to the clean-up, Viola jumped to volunteer herself as his helper. 

Just as he was ready to fall to his knees and accept whatever punishment the gods had to dole out, rather than put himself in temptation again, rather than allow himself to be alone in the kitchen with her again, to his enormous surprise Avalon ousted her little sister from the job, insisting that she help their father instead.

“Go help Mum with the shortcake.”  She commanded bossily while doggedly gathering up half-empty serving dishes from the diningroom table.  “I need to talk to Dad.”  He heard her hiss when her younger sister whined and needled.

“Fine.” Huffed his youngest before turning on her heel and stomping toward the living room in a temper.

When she was out of sight Jonah felt himself breathe deeply for the first time in hours and the sudden expanding of his lungs caused him to feel dizzy.  He leaned heavily over the table and closed his eyes.

“Dad?”

“I’m fine.”  He said, his lips slack, his voice ragged.

“No you’re not—“  She crossed to him and he felt her small hand on his back. 

He smiled.  And wanted to cry with relief.  It felt like a hand.  Just a hand. It felt familial and harmless and completely unremarkable in any way.  Thank heaven.  He’d begun to fear… had been careful to avoid most physical contact with not just Viola but all of them, just in case.  A peck on the cheek here and there, and otherwise he’d been completely reserved in his normal comfortable expression of affection.

“I am, I’m fine, I just, I think I’m coming down with a cold or something.”  He assured her, gesturing to his barely eaten dinner.

She kept her hand there, on his back, until he pulled himself to standing and met her eyes with a reassuring smile.

“You sure you’re ok?”  She asked, unable to conceal the deep concern in her eyes, despite her admirably controlled expression. 

“Thank you, Honey, yes.”  He answered, and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.  He could have crowed with relief at how natural it felt.  How paternal. 

Why in God’s name, or whosever name, couldn’t he manage this with Vi?  He felt another wave of nausea threaten to spill up and out and he swallowed hard against it. 

They moved around the table in opposite directions, she gathering up stemware, and he piling plates.  Avalon couldn’t stand touching people’s used plates, she never had been able to manage the chore without gagging.  They made their first trip into the kitchen in silence, deposited their first load of dinner cargo without a word, and didn’t break the quiet until their second trip in, arms laden with more detritus from their excessively elaborate dinner party.

“She made enough to feed three times the guests here tonight.” Jonah commented with a fond smile.  He loved his wife.  He loved her idiosyncrasies and her adorable excesses and her unswerving commitment to splendid hostess-ing.

“Dad, I’m really sorry about before.”  Avalon said in a less-than-steady voice.

He looked up from his task of scraping leftover morsels into the compost bin and stared at his eldest daughter for a long moment.

“I am too.”  He admitted.

She took a breath and hesitated.

“What’s really bothering you honey?”  He asked gently, resuming his task to take the pressure off her, allowing her time to find her breath and choose her words.

“Grey, I guess.”  She answered.

Jonah pursed his lips thoughtfully and reached for another plate to scrape.  “No, I don’t think that’s it, not entirely.”  He responded, sounding like a scientist pondering a riddle.

“He’s always pulling stunts like this—“  She qualified and he nodded in agreement.

“He does tend toward dramatic gestures.”  He allowed with a weak smile.

“And right before Ben and I are getting married?!”  She began loading the stemware into the dishwasher, needing, like Jonah did, to keep her hands busy with a task.

“Hmmm.”  Commented Jonah pensively.  “I think we’re getting warmer.”  He told her, pulling another plate toward the compost bin.  “What does Grey’s elopement have to do at all with your wedding to Ben?”  He asked gently.

“Errrrr!”  She responded exasperatedly.

Jonah chuckled softly.  “Ava-Bird, you can’t let other people’s actions determine the worth and measure of your own, you know this.”

Having finished the stemware she moved to the pantry to retrieve storage containers for the leftovers.  Jonah always marveled at how Avalon could manage to handle leftovers from serving dishes but couldn’t be persuaded to even so much as look overlong at leftovers on a person’s plate. 

“But now that’s all people will be thinking about at my wedding, about Grey, and his pretty new bride, and how shocking it all was and blah blah blah.” 

Jonah stacked the cleared plates neatly and closed the lid of the bin.  “You have no control over other people.”  He told her as he’d told her a thousand times over the course of her young life.  “All you can control is yourself, and how you respond.”

She lidded the carrots and sighed.  “I don’t feel very in-control over anything anymore.”  She confessed, her lower lip trembling just barely.

He knew how she felt more than he was at liberty to reveal.  “Well, know this: Nobody will be thinking much about Grey and Maggie at your wedding, or about anything else for that matter, because even if this wedding weren’t going to be the biggest event in ten years—“  She rolled her eyes and laughed a little, “Even if you were just getting married in a field somewhere, with no fancy dress and without the flowers and harp music and the five course meal, Avalon—“  He waited until she met his eyes, “Honey, everyone will be captivated by the beauty and love that will be shining from you and the man you love.”  Her face crumbled a bit.  “You understand me?”  He pressed.  “As long as you two are happy and committed and willing to share your love with all your guests, then it wouldn’t matter if a supernova exploded over our heads, all eyes will be on you, all hearts will be with you.  Get it?”

“You’re a romantic.”  She said quellingly.  “You might be sappier than Mum.”

He chuckled.  “I’m a million times worse than your mother.”  He said with a wink, moving to load the plates into the dishwasher when a very peculiar thing occurred.

Avalon began to cry.

Jonah froze.  He was temporarily at a loss.  He hadn’t seen Avalon cry since she’d fallen off the balance beam in high school and broken her ankle.  But there she was, standing in his kitchen, weakly spooning potatoes into a plastic container, and sobbing quietly.

He’d be hard pressed to say who looked more shocked, his daughter or himself.  He shook himself and deposited the plates on the counter as quickly and safely as he could and he went to her.

“I’m sorry!”  She said, obviously mortified at her unexpected condition.

“No, no, no, don’t apologize.”  He laughed, pulling her close.  It was actually something of a relief to see her cry.  Sort of like witnessing a freak occurrence of nature, like comet or a flash flood.  It was humanizing.  Startling, sure, but deeply revealing.  “Shhhhh, shhhh.”  He said, unable to stop chuckling.

“Why are you laughing?!?!”  She choked-out, finally abandoning her half-hearted attempt at storing potatoes, and collapsing into his chest, racked with sobs.

“I’m sorry,”  He laughed as he rocked her, “Where’s this coming from?”  He asked her lightly, but she only sobbed harder.  “Shhhh, Oh God, shhh, people are going to think I hit you or something.”  He was laughing deeply now, unable to contain his misplaced merriment.

“Da-ad!”  She wailed, and choked a laugh into his chest.

“Well?”  He demanded, patting her back soothingly and trying valiantly to control his inanity.  “What do you expect?  Someone’s going to walk in here and think I broke your other ankle or something.”

She snorted and then sobbed again weakly.  His shirt was nearly damp through already.  “Shut-up!”  She moaned miserably, but he could hear the smile pulling at her mouth.

“Seriously, what do you think Ben will do to me if he walks in and finds you like this? Hm?”  He put her at arm’s length and shook her a little, playfully.  “He’d take me outside and demand satisfaction!”

Avalon blubbered into a fit of giggles that made Jonah grin from ear to ear.  He gathered her back up against his chest and held her till her giggles and tears subsided.  When once again she was breathing almost normally and he too had calmed down from his bizarre reaction to her outburst, he decided to try again.

“So where’d all that come from?”  He murmured over the top of her head.

He felt her shake her head weakly against his chest.  “I have no clue.”  She said, sounding as if that were pretty nearly true.

Jonah was quiet for a moment, enjoying the comfort of the non-threatening, non-taboo, guiltless human contact.  Enjoying being a dad again. 

“Do you have some concerns about getting married?”  He asked as softly as he could manage and still be heard.

“No.”  She answered forcefully, and pushed against him.

He held her tighter.  “Birdie?”

“No.”  She insisted, but ceased her attempt at escaping his embrace.

“Avalon, there’s no shame at all in feeling confused—“

“Ben is perfect.”  Avalon said in response.  “I’d have to be crazy to have any doubts.”

Safely above her head he smiled sadly.  He remembered this song and dance very well.  He’d been engaged to Velvet for three years before his love had finally felt ready to marry him.  And she’d expressed similar feelings: ‘I must be crazy—you’re perfect, you and Grey are the best things in my life, I love you, I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me!’  And he’d been patient.  He’d told her there was absolutely no rush.  That he’d be ready when she was.  And it had taken getting pregnant with Avalon to make her feel ready enough to take the vows.

He didn’t doubt for a second that Ben Sinclair would display the same steadfastness and patience for Avalon.  But Avalon had walked herself right into a hugely public corner.  They were planning the damned wedding of the century, and he supposed that pressure, in addition to all the normal doubts and second-guessing, was causing his girl undue stress.

“You’re perfectly human to have doubts, Honey.”

“I bet he doesn’t.”  She said in a pouty voice.

Jonah wasn’t about to touch that one.  “Do you love him?”  He asked instead, no judgments, no recriminations, just a simple question.

“Yes.”  She answered and it rang true in his ears.

“Does he love you?”

She nodded and he heard a weak “So much.”  Against his shirt.

“If there were a JP here now would you think twice about marrying him?”

“Without a wedding?”  The pitch of her voice shot-up precariously.

“Pretend there’s no such thing as weddings.”  He stipulated.

She was quiet for a long moment.  Then she sniffed.  “I’d do it in a heartbeat.”  She answered at last.

Jonah breathed in deep and then exhaled with a smile.  He kissed the crown of her head and unwrapped his arms from around her.  “If that feels true everyday, honey bunch, then you and Ben will have a long, loving, blessed life together.”

She smiled meekly and he chucked her under the chin.  “Now I am pleased to throw you the wedding of your dreams, but don’t you think for one minute, that if it all becomes too much, that I would even bat an eye if you two ran off to Vegas and forgot about the whole shebang.”

Her expression became one of dire warning mixed with amusement.  “Don’t even put those thoughts anywhere near Ben’s head.”  She leveled.  “He already wants to fast-forward right to the honeymoon.”

Jonah felt his face flush but he didn’t comment, and even managed a mild smile.  “I am sorry about the cottage.”  He said.

She shrugged.  “I’m over it.”

He made a skeptical face and a giggle escaped her.  She never giggled like this, hadn’t since she was in maybe middle school.  It was as if she’d made a conscious effort to become a composed and dignified lady, and she’d decided giggling to be beneath her.  And crying.  And very usually profanity.

It was strangely nice to have all three displays of human foible in one evening.

“Ok.”  She admitted, rolling her eyes and wiping the wetness from under her eyes and across her cheeks.  “But I will be over it soon enough.”

He pinched her cheek lightly.  “That’s my girl.” 

With a heavy sigh he surveyed their lack of progress with the clean-up, and made a mental note of all the items that were still languishing out in the dining room.  “Tell you what.  Finish helping get the leftovers in the fridge and I’ll take care of the rest while you freshen up.”

She swiped again under her eyes and groaned.  “I don’t even wanna know.”  She said gloomily.

“You’re lovely.”  He said, his voice heartfelt.  “People always look more beautiful after they’ve had a good cleansing cry.”

She fixed him with a very condescending look.  “My God, you are worse than Mum.”