Page 111 of This Memory
The four of them set off.
“Well,” Brystol said, folding her arms over her chest and tilting her head. “I see where we rank in the grand scheme of things.”
I placed my arm around her shoulders and said, “Booze first, then food, then life-altering news.”
Turning to look at me, a wicked spark filled her eyes. “I’m half-tempted not to tell them.”
My head fell back on a laugh. “Please, you’re chomping at the bit to tell them.”
Sighing, she replied, “I am. Damn it.”
“Come on, let’s join ’em.”
She tugged on my hand. “You’re not going to drink, are you?”
I blinked several times. “We have both sets of parents here, Bry. Please tell me you’re not about to ask menotto drink.”
She huffed. “If I can’t drink, you shouldn’t be allowed, either.”
Moving my lips to her ear, I lowered my voice. “Both. Sets. Of. Parents. That’s four people asking me when I’m gonna ask you to marry me. The last time your father inquired when I was going to—and I quote—‘get around to asking’, he inferred he knew people in the Mafia. What in the hell was that supposed to mean?”
She waved off my concern. “He doesn’t know anyone in the Mafia. Now mymother, on the other hand…”
I was sure my eyes went as wide as saucers. “Dear God…I’m already afraid of her. Don’t put things like that in my head.”
“Gavin! Do we have cause for champagne tonight?” Nancy called out.
Stopping in my tracks, I pointed at Brystol. “You see? It hasn’t even been five minutes! Don’t worry, I’m not going to drink beer. I’m gonna make me a whiskey.”
Brystol covered her mouth to keep from laughing.
Suddenly, my mother was at my side. “Are we celebrating something else this evening and you didn’t tell me?”
Slowly turning to face her, I forced a smile. “We’re only celebrating the baby’s gender.”
A look of disappointment crossed her face. “I see. You know, you’re halfway through this pregnancy.”
Brystol choked on a cough in a sad attempt to cover her laugh.
“Mom, not now.”
“I’m just saying. Wouldn’t you two like to be married before the baby arrives?”
I looked at Brystol, who simply smiled.
“You’re not going to help?”
“Nope!” she replied. “I am, however, going to go pour you a double.”
When Brystol headed to the kitchen, I turned to my mother. “Did you make the arrangements?”
She looked offended. “Of course I did.”
I kissed her on the cheek. “You’re the best mother a guy could ever want.”
When I stepped back, she patted my cheek and whispered, “I saw the ring. It’s beautiful.”
I smiled, but inside, my heart was breaking. “Denny helped me pick it out.”
