Page 26 of If You Claim Me
“I haven’t been secretive. They just haven’t been significant enough to introduce,” I correct.
Mildred accepts air hugs and kisses from them.
There’s a slightly pregnant pause as everyone waits for me to introduce my brothers-in-law.
Julian steps forward. “Connor’s forgotten his manners, apparently. I’m Julian, Isabelle’s husband, and this is Bryson.”
“Portia’s husband, right?” Mildred shakes Bryson’s hand, and I want to break it.
“That’s right.”
“They’re both so sweet,” Mildred replies.
“They’re both very well behaved,” Father says, like a clueless fucking idiot.
“They’re not dogs. They’re grown fucking women,” I snap.
“Connor! Your language, please.” Mother is already exasperated. “You’d think you were raised in a barn.”
“Might have been better for you if that had been the case.” I drain the rest of my scotch.
Mildred breaks the tense silence. “I lived in a shed for a couple of months—not quite a barn, but probably similarly unpleasant.”
“On purpose?” Julian asks, like the tactless dolt he is. “Were you homeless?”
“At the time I was not unhomed, no.” Mildred links her arm with mine and rests her cheek on my bicep.
Today probably constitutes the most physical contact I’ve had in years that didn’t lead to emotionless sex or a hockey fight. It’s uncomfortable, but I don’t dislike it. Also, does that mean Mildred was unhomed at one point?
Mildred tips her chin up, her smile impish. “I don’t think I’ve told you this story yet. But when I moved from Barrie to Toronto for university, I didn’t realize not all ‘above the garage’ apartments were created equal, so I shared my accommodations with the neighborhood raccoon until I found something a little less…rustic.”
“It’s unfortunate you didn’t have anyone to guide you. You’ve come so far, haven’t you?” Mother’s gaze swings my way. “From living in sheds with vermin to being engaged to a hotel heir.”
“It has been quite the adventure so far,” Mildred agrees smoothly while I bristle at the insinuation.
“I’m sure.” Mother nods her agreement. “Connor tells us you’re a librarian.”
“A professional reader,” Julian murmurs into his glass. “What a challenging career.”
“Would be for you,” I snap.
But Mildred ignores the dig. “That’s right. I work at Toronto Central.”
“So you’re a government employee,” Bryson clarifies.
“Um, yes?” Mildred replies.
“The government system has become so bloated,” Julian says.
“With so much staff, some of them have to be freeloaders,” Father agrees. “In cushy jobs with inflated salaries.”
Mildred’s eyes widen. “I don’t know that I would call my salary inflated or my job cushy, but you obviously have strong feelings about it.”
“Well, I just hope your workplace is safe. So many libraries are public spaces that vagrants and the dregs of society abuse,” Father explains, like an asshole.
“That’s a biased and elitist view,” I counter.
“Easy to complain when this elitism affords you your life,” Father reminds me.
