Page 34 of Gray Hair Don't Care
“There’s Hendricks and Tanqueray No. 10. Our mother takes gin very seriously,” Austin said.
“Right, then. Either of those’ll do.”
From the other side of the room, Donovan’s mother clinked the side of a champagne glass several times with a silver spoon. “Everyone. I’d like to go over the schedule for Echo and Lucius’s big day tomorrow.” All eyes were quickly on Eileen. “At eleven, Genevieve and I will be hosting a brunch in this room for the ladies. Stuart will be leading the men on a nature hike, followed by lunch.”
Donovan stifled a groan. He didn’t need to spend several hours with Stuart. By the next time he came to visit, Stuart would undoubtedly be gone and a new guy would be in his place.
“Then,” she continued, “the ceremony will be at four o’clock, down by the pond, followed by dinner and dancing.”
“I’m gobsmacked. Your mum is organized,” Genevieve quipped. “I wasn’t sure she knew how to tell time.”
His mother’s poor sense of schedule and ability to ignore anyone else’s needs was well documented. It had driven Genevieve bonkers when Echo was a baby.
“Maybe because her granddaughter is getting married?” Donovan asked.
Genevieve shot him a searing look. “Maybe because I had to be on her about all of this for the last few months.”
Just then, a chorus of barks rang out, growing louder by the second. Everyone turned to the door. A sleek black cat tore into the room, leaping up onto the back of a wingback chair, back arched and tail fluffed, much like one of the skunks. A split second later the dogs stampeded into the room, surrounding the chair, hopping on hind legs and barking.
“And, here we go…” Genevieve said. “Gives a whole new meaning to ‘dog’s dinner’, doesn’t it?”
Donovan wasn’t about to argue with his ex-wife about whether or not this was a complete disaster. The answer seemed fairly obvious. He and Austin sprang into action, tugging on collars and attempting to corral the dogs out of the room, but there were too many for two people. Stuart jumped in, then Lucius. Then Echo. Donovan’s mom nearly deafened them all with one of her two-finger whistles, but this time, the dogs were not listening. The poor cat hissed and swiped, one time nearly hitting Donovan. Genevieve backed away, staying out of the fray.
“Eileen, do you have any dog biscuits?” Lela blurted, chasing a Papillon in circles. Apparently Lela was the only person with a functioning brain.
“Yes,” Stuart answered. “Be right back.” He sprinted out of the room and returned in a flash—who knew Stuart was so spry?
As soon as one dog received a treat, they quickly peeled off and bombarded Stuart.
Lela scooped up the poor cat and pulled it into the safety of her arms. “Well, that was exciting.”
“Also known as a shambles,” Genevieve said.
As Donovan found himself wanting to defend his mom a second time, a realization hit him hard—the dogs might have been his mother’s pets, but an episode like that could’ve happened to anyone. Maybe he needed to stop thinking of his mom as an agent of turmoil. Plus, she was actually trying. It was a lot of work for her to plan and schedule. It simply wasn’t in her DNA. “And it all turned out fine, didn’t it?”
Genevieve rolled her eyes and walked away. Lela forced a smile, petting the cat, which was now clearly in love with her. Donovan approached the animal, ducking his head to make eye contact, then offering a sniff of his hand before he gave it a scratch behind the ears. All was okay. And he needed to relax.
“With that behind us, I think we’re going to go ahead and move into the dining room,” Stuart announced.
“Good idea,” Donovan said. “I’m starving.”
Of course, when they arrived, Donovan learned the downside of his mother’s newfound organizational efforts. She’d assigned seats, and she hadn’t been particularly kind to him when she’d done it. She’d put him right next to Genevieve.
Genevieve plunked her glass of wine on the table and pulled out her chair. “Well, this is a real cock-up, isn’t it?”
One thing Donovan had always enjoyed about being with Genevieve was her prodigious use of British slang. Even when it was unflatteringly directed at him. “We are responsible for the bride being on the planet, so I don’t think it’s the worst thing in the world for us to sit next to each other.”
Genevieve dropped into her chair and pinched her nose. She was so stressed it was radiating off of her in waves. “I suppose.”
He sighed and reached for her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. He felt bad. As much as things had gone completely wrong between them, he still cared for her. “It’s okay. No matter what happens this weekend, our daughter will get married to a guy she loves like crazy. That’s all that matters.”
Genevieve did not enjoy being put on notice, and he was well aware that he’d done exactly that, but it was the only thing that made sense. Life was short. Echo’s happiness was the most important thing to them both.
She turned, regarding him with an unfamiliar look, one that felt like a white flag of surrender. “I really hate saying that you’re right, but you are.”
“I promise to be wrong several times over the course of the weekend. Just to make up for it.”
A soft smile spread over her face. “I’m bloody sure of that.” She nodded across the table, where Austin and Lela were seated. “Not surprised she found her way into your life again.”
