Page 37 of Love Without Demands

“Cream, sugar, and one lemon wedge.”

“Crap, I don’t think I have any lemons.” I searched the refrigerator, frantically waving my hand around like I could conjure one from thin air but still came up empty.This right hereis why some notice would have been appreciated. “Take that out to her, and I’ll get the cream and sugar,” I hissed after closing the fridge.

I’m sure Mrs. Jones expected to be served from a cream and sugar set, but I didn’t have one. I always poured my creamer from the carton and added sugar with the little scoop in my canister.Fucking hell… why can’t I be fancier? This is nerve-racking!

I located a little white bowl and scooped enough sugar into it to give the entire building diabetes before placing it on a woodentray along with a teaspoon and the carton of vanilla creamer. Oh well, she’d just have to deal with my basic-ness.

Before returning to the living room, I checked the casserole and determined it needed a few more minutes.

“Here we go. Sorry I didn’t have any lemons,” I apologized, setting the tray down on the coffee table.

“I’m sure it will be fine.” My future mother-in-law picked up the creamer and stared at it like she’d never seen an actual carton of the stuff before. And maybe she hadn’t. Dwight once mentioned that his mom had household staff.

She poured in a dash and added approximately three grains of sugar before stirring it around. Feeling the need to break the silence, I sat on the chair adjacent to Dwight and asked, “How was your flight?”

His mother took a sip and answered, “Simply dreadful.” I wasn’t sure if she was talking about the flight or the lemon-less tea with cream crudely poured from an actual carton. “They let people from coach use the first-class restrooms.”

“That is… unimaginable,” I managed to say, putting on what I hoped was a sympathetic smile. “How was the traffic? It can be hell coming from the airport in early evening.”

Mrs. Jones’s back stiffened, and Dwight reached over and patted my hand. “Honey, Mother doesn’t approve of cursing.”

What the hell did I say? Oh… I said hell.

“I apologize. New York traffic is enough to get a saint to curse,” I said with a kind of high-pitched giggle that gave away my nerves.

“I’m sure it is,” the woman replied before setting her cup down, apparently finished with it now. “I wanted to come see you so we could get started on the wedding planning.”

“Oh, that’s… great. Thank you, but we have a while. We’ll have to wait till Dwight is able to move here.”

“The wedding will take place a year from now, next February. It was the only date available for the club in the next two years. We got very lucky because someone canceled.”

“The club?” I questioned.

“The country club,” she replied, like I should frigging know that. “Our family has been members since the Roosevelt administration.”

“Which one?” I had no idea why that seemed a relevant question, but I was still processing that our wedding date and location had already been set.

“Which what?”

“Which Roosevelt?”

“Oh, Theodore.”

“Did you know that the teddy bear was named after Teddy Roosevelt?” I asked.Again… is this a relevant tidbit of information? No, no, it is not, but this woman had me on edge.

“Yes,” Mrs. Jones replied shortly. “Anyway, moving on.” She pulled a white calendar withBrideprinted across it in a flourished font. “Here’s your calendar with all the dates we have so far. I’ll keep you abreast of any additional events for you to add.”

“Can we just go back to the location for a second? I always wanted to get married in Missouri. In my hometown.”

Dwight’s mother looked like I’d just told her I wanted to travel to another planet and marry Marvin the Martian.

My fiancé spoke up with a patronizing pat to my hand. “Honey, Mother has already put down the three-thousand-dollar deposit.”

“My church only charges a hundred dollars for members, so that would save a lot of money,” I said brightly. “Maybe your mom can get a refund.”

“We’re not religious,” she said with a tight smile. “And there are no refunds at the club.”

“Then maybe you should have asked me before putting down the deposit,” I argued as gently as I could.

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