“When is this happening?” Jack asked, his interest seemingly genuine.
Megan beamed. “The third weekend in October. Friday through Sunday. Everyone’s staying for the whole weekend.”
Jack frowned slightly. “I’m afraid Mia isn’t available that weekend.”
I turned to him, genuinely confused. “I’m not?”
At the same moment, Megan’s smile faltered. “She isn’t?”
“No, I’m afraid not. I’m taking her to Paris that weekend.”
The silence that followed was absolute.
“Paris?” Mom finally managed, her voice faint with shock. “As in France?”
“Yes,” Jack replied, as casually as if he’d just announced we were going to the mall. “I’ve booked the tickets. It’s meant to be a surprise, but I suppose the cat’s out of the bag now.”
“But that’s the spa weekend,” Megan protested, her voice rising with indignation. “She has to be there! She’s the maid of honor!”
“You can have your spa day any weekend,” Jack said reasonably. “Our trip is already arranged.”
“It is not just any spa day!” Megan insisted, her cheeks flushing. “Everyone needs to be there! It’s my special weekend!”
Jack’s expression remained pleasantly neutral. “I’m sure your weekend will be wonderful regardless,” he said. “But our plans are already set, as I said.”
Under the table, he squeezed my hand, silently urging me to play along. I managed to nod, though I was still trying to process what was happening.
“But I’ve already put down the deposits,” Megan whined, looking to our mother for support.
Mom was too busy reassessing Jack to notice her favorite daughter’s distress. “Paris,” she repeated, her eyes gleaming with new appreciation. “How... romantic.”
“You can’t just take her to Paris!” Megan’s voice had risen to a pitch that made me wince. “This is my wedding we’re talking about!”
“The wedding is in February,” Jack pointed out calmly. “This is October.”
“It’s part of the wedding experience!” Megan slammed her hand on the table, making the coffee cups rattle. Charles placed a restraining hand on her arm, which she immediately shook off. “Why do you always have to ruin everything?”
“Megan!” Mom finally snapped to attention. “That’s enough.”
Megan stormed from the room, leaving an uncomfortable silence behind her. Charles offered an apologetic smile before following after her.
“Well,” Ted spoke up for what felt like the first time all evening. “Guess she’s still got that temper.”
Jack checked his watch. “I’m afraid we should be going. I have an early meeting tomorrow.”
“But you haven’t finished your dessert,” Mom protested weakly.
“Everything was delicious,” Jack assured her, standing and pulling out my chair. “Thank you for a lovely evening.”
The goodbyes were mercifully brief, then we were out the door and walking to Jack’s car. He opened the door for me, like always, but before I could slide inside, he said, “I hope you have your passport ready.”
My heart stuttered . “What the fuck? You’re not seriously taking me to Paris.”
“Sure I am.”
“Are you feeling okay? That’s crazy talk.”
He shrugged. “Get in the car, Mia.”
