Page 101 of Oblivion

“Please call me Elizabeth,” Mama says warmly.

Thankfully, I’m saved from any awkward conversation when the designer and her team arrive. The woman who served us dinner the other night opens the front door before I can and motions the designer’s assistant to push the rails of dresses into a cozy den that I’ve never seen before.

It’s odd that this stranger is more familiar with my new home than I am, but I push away the feeling, glad that someone had made plans for tonight when I’m completely unprepared. Once the designer is all set up, the house manager, who introduces herself as Dawn, carries in a tray of fruity cocktails and a platter of snacks for us, then quickly leaves.

When Mama stands and makes a move to look through the rail of dresses, Beth, the dress designer, quickly takes controland starts to guide me through the selection of styles she brought for me to try on so I can get an idea of what kind of wedding dress I’d like.

Truthfully, I’ve imagined this day a million times before. I’m that girl. The one who dreamed of having her picture-perfect wedding to her prince charming. Only instead, I’m having a quicky wedding to someone who I’d more likely describe as the villain than the hero.

Since Evan put Mama in her place at the restaurant, she’s been quiet and polite, but I can tell that her anger is simmering beneath her calm façade, and it’s only a matter of time until I hear exactly what she thinks about my fiancé and our rushed nuptials.

“Okay, so based on your first instincts, what kind of dress do you think you’d like?” Beth asks.

Inhaling, I twist around and run my gaze over the dozen dresses she’s shown me. “I guess I always thought?—”

Mama interrupts me before I can finish speaking. “A classy princess dress,” she says. “Something appropriate for an elegant church wedding. Not something that shows more than it hides.” Her nose is wrinkled as she tries and fails to hide her unimpressed sneer.

Biting my lip to stop myself from snapping, I turn to Beth and smile. “I’m so sorry, could you excuse us for just a moment?”

“Of course,” she says with a knowing look.

“Mama, could I speak to you in the kitchen?” I say with a smile to hide how frustrated I am.

“Samantha, you have guests,” Mama chides.

“Beth, let me show you some photos from my wedding. My dress was so perfect,” Starling quickly jumps in, pulling Beth aside as she brings up photos on her cell.

Putting my hand on Mama’s arm, I gently but firmly lead her out of the den and toward the kitchen. “Okay, go,” I say the moment we’re out of earshot.

“Excuse me,” Mama says, lifting her hand and resting it on her décolletage.

“Mama, please don’t play coy. Now tell me.”

“Samantha—”

“Look, I know you loved Drew. I know you painted this picture of spending the holidays with Martha and John and the brood of grandbabies you planned for us to have. I know that I lied to you, and I know that must have hurt you. So, get it off your chest.”

I see the exact moment when she decides to drop her attempt at being unaffected. “Fine. Who is this boy? Your daddy says his family is very wealthy, but we didn’t raise you to be a gold digger. What on earth happened with Drew? One day, we’re getting you settled into that beautiful house in Massachusetts, and then two days later, that boy is knocking on our door telling us your engagement is off and that you’re on your way to California on a private jet. He told your daddy that he’d be paying for the rest of your degree and that he planned to marry you.”

“Did you know that Drew planned to propose to me?” I ask.

“Of course I did. Martha and I went to help him pick out that beautiful ring.”

“Did you know that we weren’t even a couple?”

“What on earth are you talking about? You’ve been inseparable since you came home for summer.”

“We were friends, Mama. That’s it. Just old friends. When he proposed to me at the airport, I was shocked. I wasn’t expecting it because it came out of left field. I had no idea he even still had feelings for me.”

“But you accepted,” Mama points out with a smug expression on her face.

“Yes, I did. With Drew, I’ve always known exactly what my life would look like. We’d get married. Buy a house across the street from you and Daddy. He’d become mayor, and I’d support him.”

“I know,” Mama sighs wistfully.

“Drew and I never discussed having kids. We never discussed my career or my plans for the future.”

“I don’t understand,” Mama says.

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