A Taste of Honey (9 page)

His mother’s home was a two-story brick mansion. Timber gable ends, balustrades, shingles, eaves, and window frames were white with natural-colored brickwork.

“Will, it’s lovely,” Charli enthused.

He braked in front of the house, alighted from the car, and moved around to open the door for her. He ushered her inside the house.

The room they entered was obviously the sitting room. The walls were pale blue, the deeper, true turquoise chairs and sofas, the creamy beige carpet. She admired the feature brick wall in which a fireplace was set. The room was on a split-level. There was a small flight of stairs and through an arched opening, there was the library.

A tall, very elegant, and slightly overweight woman rose to greet them. She had impeccable taste like Audrey Hepburn or Lauren Bacall, dressed in a Gabrielle jacket in black tweed, Tina pearl muted snakeskin ballet shoes, and a sunray pleat maxi-skirt. She oozed sophistication and confidence. Charli felt a flash of admiration for her taste in clothes alone.

“William, my son,” she enthused, like she hadn’t seen him for ten years. She placed a soft kiss on her son’s cheek. “And this must be — ?” She arched a delicately plucked eyebrow.

Will placed his hand in the small of Charli’s back and nudged her gently toward his mother. “Honey, this is my mother, Ester Knight. Mother, this is Charli Honey.”

There was a momentary silence as the older woman drank her in. On parade? Should she stand at attention and salute? Or perhaps just lower her head until the inspection was over.

Why was she thinking such bitchy thoughts? She didn’t know Ester Knight. Perhaps she was a kind and generous woman. Perhaps she’d like her instantly and they would become bosom pals. Perhaps pigs would indeed one day fly.

“So you are the girl my son wants to marry.” Statement not question.

“Yes,” Charli muttered. “I am she. The one he wants to marry.” Had she lost her power of speech? Why was she muttering like a bag lady rummaging through a trash bin? And was that a look of utter disappointment, maybe bordering on disgust on Ester Knight’s face?
Oh my God, she doesn’t like me.
“I’m so pleased to meet you, Mrs. Knight.”

“Please call me Ester.”

“Ester.”

“We must have an engagement party.”

“What?” both Charli and Will said.

“You cannot get married without first making an announcement. It isn’t done.” She held up one hand at their stuttering protests. “What are your plans? Please tell me.”

“We want to get married and as soon as possible,” Charli said. “No fuss or bother. Just a quick wedding and that’s that.”

“Why the haste? Surely, you’ve only just met.” Her eyes traveled down to Charli’s tummy. Charli immediately placed her hand over the offending space and held her breath. Does she suspect? And if Ester challenges her, what should she say?

Charli felt immediate relief when Ester said, “Now no more talk of rushing things. I need to meet your parents and you and your parents will meet Will’s family. Does your mother require any help with the wedding plans?”

“My mother is dead.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Forgive me, I had no idea. Have you anyone who can help you with the arrangements?”

“Nobody.”

“Wonderful. Then I’ll go immediately into action. It’s been my burning ambition to arrange a wedding — not just any old person’s wedding, but my son’s. Not that I expected him to find an orphan just to please me,” she gushed and Charli’s head whirled. “But seeing he has, well, isn’t it exciting. I know this great little wedding planner. She did my cousin’s daughter’s wedding and it was superb. There’s so much to be done, but that will never daunt me. I look on it as a challenge. The engagement shall be a small do, to be held here at my home.”

Could she excuse herself? Say she had a migraine and needed fresh air or that she just remembered she’d left the gas on at home. Charli wasn’t sure what she’d expected from the meeting with Will’s mother. A cup of tea and buttered scones? Will talk?

“I’ll do everything necessary so you don’t have to worry your pretty little head.”

“Mum, we didn’t want too much fuss. A simple wedding with a civil service.” Will shook his head slightly. “No fuss, please, Mum,” he repeated. “We were thinking Registry Office or in a park with just family and a few close friends.”

Her face actually drained of color, her eyes widened until Charli thought they would pop from their sockets. “My dear God, William, did I hear you correctly? Registry Office? A-a-” She swallowed noticeably. “Park? With strangers staring on and birds pooping through the dangling leaves? I think not. Oh, no, I think not for my son.”

Will looked flummoxed. “Mum, please, I beg you. We want a simple, easy wedding. Okay, we’ll take the engagement party if that’s what you want, but we’re firm-footed about the wedding.” He turned to Charli. “Aren’t we, Honey?”

“Oh, um, yes, our feet are pretty firm.”

She was a mess. An inept crazy woman who couldn’t string a sentence together. Ester Knight’s words raced around her brain. The whole situation was completely out of control. She knew Will was trying to take control but he was floundering too. His mother was, to say the least, a strong and determined woman. So be it.

“Darling, I assure you it will be a simple wedding and with a civil service.” She smiled benevolently. “It’s my wedding gift to you both.”

There was no escape. How could they refuse his mother’s gift? Oh my God, she’d have to walk down the aisle into her not so loving husband’s arms with everyone looking on dewy-eyed.

Not for this little black duck. There had to be an escape clause somewhere.

In her mind’s eye, she saw Will placing a ladder at her window, her climbing down, and them rushing off to Tasmania, heck no, make that Las Vegas, much more romantic. He might even take her to Hollywood. She was a sucker for the stars and a tour of their houses would be high on her list of things to do in movieland.

“Honey!”

She blinked. “What?”

“You’re woolgathering again. Mum was asking you a question.”

“Sorry, Ester. You were saying?”

“Is your name a derivative?”

“Excuse me?” Charli said.

“Your name? Is it short for Charlotte, or Charlene or something in that vein?”

Something tight and unwelcomed squeezed Charli’s heart. Her first assumption was right — Ester didn’t like her. “It’s just Charli.”

“Pity. Charli will appear so — so gauche on the invitations.”

Will interjected. “She can’t change her name to suit the invitations, mother,” he said and his eyes twinkled with humor.

He was enjoying this now. His mother was behaving exactly as he expected her to. Why hadn’t he warned her? And how dare he let his mother insult her name.

“Come, sit down here on the settee with me,” Ester said patting the space beside her. Charli, like an obedient child, did as she was bid. Where was her stamina, her chutzpah she was so proud of?

Ester Knight leaned forward in her chair and fingered Charli’s hair. “Is this a dye?”

“No.” Charli denied hotly.

“This is really the color of your hair. It’s so red.”

“That’s because it is red.”

Ester crossed her arms across her ample bosom. “It will look radiant against white.”

“White?”

“Your bridal dress, Charlene.”

“Charli,” Charli corrected.

“Whatever. Your magnificent dress that — ” At this point Ester Knight tilted back her head, crossed her hands over her breasts and fluttered her eyelids closed. “If I close my eyes I can see you, with your veil billowing out behind you as you float majestically down the aisle. Is your father tall?”

“Pardon me?”

“Your father, is he tall?”

“He’s around five foot ten or eleven, I suppose,” Charli stammered.

“Couldn’t be more perfect. I think there’s nothing more distasteful than a bride with a short father. It doesn’t gel, so to speak.”

Charli didn’t answer because she had no idea how to respond. She threw a pleading glance at Will. He raised his shoulders slightly, sent her a pitying look but remained silent.

In a ping of enlightenment, Charli realized that her earlier assumption about Ester not liking her was wrong. In fact Will’s mother didn’t care about her one way or the other, she was treating Charli the same as she’d treat a cleaning woman applying for a job in Ester’s home, wanting to know the general things. Did the woman drink? Was she reliable? Any moment Ester Knight would ask her for a character reference. This was so damn awful.

“Who will you choose for bridesmaids, Charlene?”

Oh, God let this all be a bad dream.
“I hadn’t thought about bridesmaids. And my name is
Charli
.”

“Charli, yes of course, how remiss of me.” Her apology was vague. “Are you content to leave it to me? Would you like that, dear?”

“Yes, I suppose so,” she said. “Except for one thing, Ester?”

Ester Knight drew herself erect. “And that is?”

“The flowers are my father’s prerogative? He’s a master gardener and his flowers are the envy of Rich River.”

Ester Knight raised an arched eyebrow. “Rich — ?”

“Rich River, where my father lives. Where I was born.” She didn’t want any of this, and she wondered if maybe she should run for her dad’s farm and hide in the cow shed. Get a grip, for God’s sake.

So there was to be an engagement party, she could handle that. And as for the wedding, hadn’t she always dreamed of a white wedding, thrown rice, a honeymoon with the man she loved. Ah, there was the operative word ‘love.’
Love is a many splendored thing; love conquered all; the power of love
, etcetera, etcetera.

“But I know this most divine little florist who makes — ”

Charli stood, her fists clenched. “No, Ester, I insist that my father handles the flowers. You can do everything else you wish but the flowers belong to my side of the family and that’s that.”

“Well, I never,” Ester Knight said. “A temper to match the hair.” She threw a glance toward her son. “William, I do believe you’ve met your match. Be a good boy and break open a bottle of champagne. We’ll toast the engagement.”

• • •

Will exploded into laughter as soon as they got into the car to go back to the city.

Charli threw him a resentful look. “I don’t see what’s so blasted funny.”

“My mother and the wedding. Come on, Charli, you have to admit it was hilarious.”

“I’m pleased you found amusement in my embarrassment. Your mother won’t be satisfied until she arranges a wedding that will equal if not better a royal’s.”

“Most probably,” he said.

“And why didn’t you help me? Surely you don’t want this farce any more than I do. It’s bad enough we’re getting married without all this false trimming.”

“Help you and spoil my afternoon’s entertainment? Don’t think so.”

“Your mother’s very determined.” She shot him a sideward glance. “You’re very much alike.”

“Ouch. That hurt. I pride myself that I take after my father.”

She placed her head back on the headrest. “She doesn’t like me,” she said quietly.

“Who?”

“Your mother.”

“She likes to organize events, it’s just her way.”

She sat bolt upright. “Will, your mother couldn’t even remember my name and she detested the color of my hair.”

“She was excited that’s all.”

“No, she wasn’t. She was disappointed, and she’s sorry that you’re not marrying the society girl she thinks you should marry.”

“Stop it, Honey.”

“She thinks I’m not good enough for you.”

He jammed on the brakes and she flung forward in her seat hearing the resounding snap of the safety belt holding her securely in place. He looked at her and she could see the anger flare in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound trite. I didn’t know how else to say it.”

The anger died at her words and he spoke gently to her. “Don’t worry about anything. It’ll all work out. I promise you.”

He put the car into gear and sped off down the highway.

It was all right for him to say everything would work out. How could anything be all right when they didn’t love each other and his mother disliked her?

She could see the invitations now, Mrs. Ester Knight requests the pleasure of … to witness the marriage of her only son William Knight to Charlene — Charlotte — what’s-her-name Honey.

The next time she met his mother she’d most likely stare blankly at her and say,
now, William, which little friend of yours is this?
Or something as equally cruel.

These people were out of her realm. They belonged to a world that Charli had never entered. She couldn’t keep up with them and she didn’t want to try. She didn’t want to live in a big marble and glass house on the top of a hill overlooking the city. She wanted her career for sure, but she wanted to fit it in around a man who loved her, a dog and a cat, six kids, and a mortgage that would choke a horse. She wanted to go shopping on a Thursday night with her husband and buy doughnuts and ice cream. Go to the movies on a Saturday night after a counter meal at the local pub, washed down with a glass of icy cold beer. She wanted holidays they’d saved all year for.

Okay, so it wasn’t to be. She’d made her bed and now she had to lie in it. She glanced at Will’s profile. Alone!

Charli wanted love. She wanted to love her husband and know, with a quiet certainty, that he loved her more than anything else in life.

Charli closed her eyes; tears burned.

Traditionally it has been perceived that it is the role of a male to actively “court” or “woo” the female, thus encouraging her to understand him and her receptiveness to a proposal of marriage.

Their wedding announcement took everyone by surprise. Charli smiled broadly recalling the astonished expression on Judy’s face when she had told her she was marrying the boss. “I knew he’d do the right thing by the baby, but marriage? You don’t even like him.”

“I saw his good side.”

“For God’s sake, Charli, this is crazy. You can’t detest a man and then marry him a few days later.”

“Of course you can.”

“You’d never have money problems anymore. He’d’ve looked after you and the baby financially. So why tie the knot?”