Page 30 of The Puck Decoy

“You’re late,” he drawls, even though we are right on time, before he turns on his heels and we are forced to follow him.

We are led to the dining room like lambs to the slaughter, where we find Josh’s mother and grandmother already waiting in their usual designated seats. This isn’t the first time I have joined them for a family dinner, having frequented many over the years, but this is the first time I feel nervous to be an unwilling participant.

Of course Hugo takes his usual seat at the head of the table, with his wife on his left, and his mother on his right, gesturing for the rest of us to take our place. Maddie takes the spot next to her mom, and Josh leads me to the other side, where he chooses the space next to his grandmother, and pulls out the chair next to him for me, leaving me the furthest from their father.

“Mom, grandma,” Josh greets them politely as always, taking his seat beside me, and then eventually flicking his stare full of contempt to his dad. “Father,” he adds, in a less polite tone, and I prepare my shield for an onslaught of battle before the dinner has even started.

The tension is thick in the air as Josh and his father have a silent stare off, neither one of them willing to back down, and when I flick my stare to my best friend, she looks just as nervous as I’m sure I do. The silence continues to loom around us as the servers bring out the first dish, and when I cast my eyes down to the plate placed in front of me, I have to swallow my groan. Years of posh parties and fancy dinners means I am more than equipped to know that the dish in front of me is lobster bisque.Shellfish. My worst nightmare.

I have always struggled with food, often sticking to the same comfort meals that I am used to just to get by, but it’s hard when you are eating out, or at other people’s houses. Of course, given the years of enduring meals just like this, it means I also know not to make a scene, and I remain tight-lipped as everyone else is also served. I don’t mind staying quiet, but apparently my new husband didn’t get the memo.

“Is this lobster?” he asks, breaking the silence, looking at me with nothing but concern, and I curse inwardly. Both he and Maddie know the issues I have with food, and have never had a problem catering to them, but I don’t expect his family to.

“Josh, it’s fine,” I whisper, praying he just lets this go.

“What’s the problem?” his father booms down the table, all ready to tuck into his own appetizer, and I cringe a little at his tone, but Josh doesn’t even flinch.

“The problem is Hallie has been coming to dinner here for almost a decade, surely you know she doesn’t like lobster, or shellfish of any kind for that matter,” he snaps right back, glaring at his father with nothing but hate.

“Oh, Hallie, I’m sorry dear, I didn't realize,” his mom jumps in to say, trying to placate the situation, but of course like father like son, neither of them can let it go.

His father's eyes are a mixture of amusement and intrigue as he takes a sip from his drink and smiles, “I’m sure she will survive just this once, son.”

Like a moth to a flame I can feel him ready to explode, so I put my hand on his leg and plead, “Josh, seriously it’s fine, I’m the fussy one, don’t even worry about it.”

My actions and words are no use as he turns to me and snaps, “Hallie, you aren’t fussy, you have a sensory aversion to certain foods that is fairly easy to manage.” My heart soars at not just his attention to detail, but his care too, then he turns back towards his father and with a voice like quiet death he seethes, “So, canyou cater to my wife's needs or should we find somewhere else to enjoy our dinner?”

His words hit three targets perfectly, as his father, mother, and grandmother all repeat in unison, “Wife?”

Without pause Josh slips his hand into mine, bringing them up to the table where his wedding band is now clear and visible. “Hallie and I got married yesterday in a small, private ceremony,” he confirms, brushing his thumb over my knuckles in comfort. “Mom, grandma, I have photos that I can send you both if you’d like, and father, I will send you the marriage license as I’m sure you’ll want to authenticate it.”

Sarcasm drops into his tone, as his statement leaves the room so silent you could hear a pin drop, and all I can do is hold onto his hand like my life depends on it, no doubt crushing his knuckles in the process. I wait for the backlash but it doesn’t come, it appears his mother and grandmother are speechless, as they both turn to Hugo and wait for his response.

For once he is looking at Josh like a father should a son, with nothing but pride and admiration in his eyes, and it isn’t there just to fool any potential voters. It’s like he is finally seeing his son and heir become a man and achieve something. It should give me some satisfaction to see it, but I know the real man behind the Mayor, and all it does is leave a sour taste in my mouth.

I reach for my water as Hugo finally breaks the silence. “Ariel,” he snaps to one of the servers. “Some champagne for everyone, and please bring my daughter-in-law a salad.” I choke on the liquid in my mouth at being called his daughter-in-law, and now the patriarch of the house has spoken, both his wife and mother rush to give us their congratulations.

“Congratulations, sweetheart,” Josh’s mother coos. “And welcome to the family, Hallie dear,” she adds sweetly, yet I can see the hesitation in her eyes as they flick over the two of us.

His grandmother however raises her glass of wine in cheers, nodding in agreement with her daughter-in-law, before she adds, “Yes very nice, just try to keep your dick away from women who aren’t your wife, young man, you don’t want to turn out like your father.”

Now it’s Mrs. Peters who chokes on her drink, as Maddie’s jaw also drops at her words, but as always his father dismisses his wrongdoings like they are irrelevant, and holds up his glass towards us. “Oh, the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree now does it, son, this is fantastic news.”

Josh’s hand tightens within mine now and I know he is confused by his father’s reaction, which I can’t say I blame him, because I definitely expected some backlash about our shotgun wedding. “Fantastic news?” Josh questions, flicking his stare to his sister, who looks equally confused, before focusing back on his father. “You're not mad?”

The server comes back with the champagne, pouring a glass for the Mayor first of course, before coming around to the rest of us. When she reaches me, she lowers her voice and whispers, “Your salad will be out in a moment, Mrs. Peters.”

Mrs Peters. Fuck.

I almost inhale my champagne after that, even though I hate the taste, and the fact that the bubbles feel like static on my tongue, as his father finally answers him. “Mad? Why would I be mad? My son has attached himself to the sole heir of Sanders Finance, I couldn’t ask for a better match.”

Bile churns in my stomach at his view of the world, and even worse, marriage, especially when I have, as he puts it, attached myself to his son. And I don’t know why I’m surprised, he did pick me for this arranged marriage, I guess he doesn’t really care when or where we did it, just as long as we did.

“I didn’t marry her because of who her father is,” Josh snaps, pulling our hands into his lap, and I can practically feel the anger vibrating off of him.

“No, but it doesn’t hurt to have that kind of backing when you pursue a career in politics. Good campaigns require deep pockets,” his father jokes, offering me a wink. “I’m sure Hallie understands and agrees with that, son. A big spring wedding would have been preferred, but we can still spin this in the right way,” he claims, tucking into his lobster. “I can see the headlines now praising, ‘Mayor’s son claims his bride, next stop: his title’.” He smiles as he talks, no doubt imagining that exact scenario where Josh and I skip off into the sunset as he becomes just like his father.

Clearly he doesn’t know his son very well.

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