Page 101 of Personal Foul
I cover her hand with mine, and bend to give her a kiss on the cheek. “Do you want me to come with you?”
She shakes her head. “No, no. You stay here. I know how important making appearances is for your family. No one will miss me, but if you’re gone for long, they’ll send the cavalry to come find you.”
Her assessment of the situation makes me chuckle, as much for its accuracy as the way she phrased it. “Good point.”
“I’ll find you soon.”
Apparently my mother has been waiting for this exact moment. Because as soon as she’s gone, Mom swoops in, a tall blonde in a slinky dress trailing behind her. “Dylan!” Mom exclaims as though she’s been looking for me for ages. “There you are! Have you met Chelsea?” Mom rattles off her pedigree as though she’s a thoroughbred racehorse that I’m looking to buy.
I offer Chelsea a smile and shake her hand. Mom slips away as we exchange small talk, but I have no real interest in talking to Chelsea. I’m sure she’s a lovely person, but I wouldn’t want my mom setting me up even if I didn’t have a girlfriend. The fact she’s doing this when I brought someone home with me who’s staying in my room is beyond irritating.
Forcing myself not to grind my molars—it’s not Chelsea’s fault after all—I offer her another smile. “Sorry to cut this short, but there’s someone over there I really need to talk to before they disappear.”
Chelsea starts to respond, but I slip through the crowd with a wave behind me before she can say anything. I realize I’m risking being called rude, but I’m not going to do this. Not tonight.
I make my way to my sister’s side, joining in her conversation with Cameron and several of their friends.
But Mom apparently has me in her sights tonight, because in almost no time she shows up and tells Victoria she’s needed by the caterers.
Through clenched teeth and a tight smile Victoria says, “Can’t you handle it, Mom?
Her own smile glued in place, Mom shakes her head. “Sorry, no. They insist on speaking with you.”
With a sigh, Victoria gives Cameron a kiss on the cheek and heads toward one of the doors. As soon as she’s gone, Mom turns to me. “What happened to Chelsea?”
Sipping my drink, I give my mother a bland look. “Nothing happened to her as far as I’m aware. We made small talk for a few minutes, the conversation fizzled, and here I am.”
“How unfortunate. I thought you two might have a lot in common.” She turns, looking around. “No matter. One of your old classmates is here. I spoke with her mother just a moment ago. Heather? Heather Albrecht? Do you remember her? She’s been doing a fast-track psychology program and is set to graduate with her master’s next year.”
“Oh?” I say with the perfect blend of interested disinterest. “Good for her.”
Undeterred, Mom grabs the sleeve of my suit coat and drags me in her wake, apparently in search of Heather Albrecht. We find her quickly, with the same predictable outcome of Mom rattling off our respective accomplishments, then claiming she sees someone she must speak to immediately and drifting away.
Heather at least appears to be amused by this turn of events. She grins at me over the rim of her champagne glass. “Hey, Dylan. Sounds like you’ve been busy the last few years.”
“Not as busy as you,” I return with a polite smile. She nods, looking around. “So, uh, I realize our parents are trying to set us up, which is awkward enough, but I actually have a girlfriend.”
I clink my glass against hers. “Congrats. Me too.
She laughs, sounding relieved. “Oh, good. Congrats to you, too.” We chat for a few more minutes, able to actually enjoy catching up without the awkward pressure of our parents’ expectations hanging over our heads. But it’s been long enough that I’m starting to wonder where Charity might be. She doesn’t have her phone on her because we forgot to get a matching handbag for her dress. When I suggested she could borrow one of my mom’s or my sister’s, Mom looked horrified, saying that a borrowed purse would be unimaginably tacky and how could I even ask? So I have Charity’s phone in the inside pocket of my suit coat. But that means I can’t text her to find out where she is or make sure she’s okay.
“It was good catching up with you, Heather. Good luck with your girlfriend and the rest of your master’s program.”
She gives me a genuine smile. “You too.”
She drifts away to find someone else to pass the time with since her girlfriend couldn’t come tonight, while I head off in search of Charity.
Once again, though, my mother is lying in wait. As soon as Heather and I lose sight of each other, Mom is at my side again. “What was wrong with that one? She’s smart, she’s pretty, she’s ambitious.”
Incredulous laughter bubbles out of me, and I keep moving, setting my glass on one of the trays set around the perimeter of the room before turning to face my mother. “Other than the fact that she’s gay? It could be that I already have a girlfriend who meets all of those descriptors that you just listed.”
Mom makes a sound of frustration. “Look, I’m sure Charity is a perfectly nice girl. Yes, she’s pretty. Yes, I’m sure she’s smart, though I have no idea about her ambitions. “
“Well you might, if you bothered to even speak to her. But you’ve barely said three words to her all day.”
“It’s not like she’s been around, either.”
“And a good thing she hasn’t. You’ve done nothing to make her feel welcome.”
