Page 22 of Trial and Error

Mom loves Bridget, just as I thought she would.

She fits in with everyone so fluently. She laughs at Patrick’s jokes and joins Isobel when she picks on Oscar. She’s currently sitting to my left, occasionally leaning on me when she laughs, and god, the sound is mesmerizing.

Mom drinks wine as she laughs at the story Oscar is telling everyone. Paying attention to anyone other than Bridget has proven difficult over the past few hours. Her entire personality is enchanting and I don’t know how anyone would be able to keep their attention away from her.

Isobel sits on the other side of Bridget and lifts her hand. “Where’s the ring?” my sister-in-law asks.

Mom sets her wineglass down on the table and places her hands under her chin. “Yes, why aren’t you wearing it?” she asks.

“We’re getting it resized,” I say, and the lie slips off the tip of my tongue smoothly. “It was a little big.”

She nods in understanding. “It’s hard to get things like that right the first time.”

If she has any suspicions, my mom doesn’t show it. She’s beaming at the two of us like we’re the best people in the world, and that’s when the guilt kicks in. It shouldn’t be this easy to deceive her, but it is…and I hate it.

“So, lovebirds, what are the plans for the big day?”

I clear my throat and sit forward, resting my elbows on the table. “We’ve discussed it briefly, but we haven’t set anything in stone.” I lean back and drop my arm around the back of Bridget’s chair, my fingers graze against her shoulder and I enjoy the way her skin prickles underneath my touch. “Bridget probably has a better idea than me.”

Her head whips in my direction, but I keep my head forward, knowing that, if I look, her gaze alone will bury me six feet under.

I hear Isobel chuckle under her breath as Mom looks over at Bridget, raising her eyebrows expectantly.

“Well? What are the plans?”

Bridget takes a long sip of her wine and then clears her throat. “I like the idea of having an intimate ceremony, you know? Nothing too big or glamorous but something small with immediate family. I’m not a big fan of those elaborate lunches either, so those at the ceremony can join us for lunch and then friends and extended family can come later on.”

“What about food in the evening?” Patrick asks.

Bridget shrugs. “I was thinking that if we have a later reception, then people can eat before they arrive.”

“What about the people who are part of the wedding party?” Mom speaks up. “They’ll need to eat too.”

My bride-to-be shifts uncomfortably in her seat and reaches for her wineglass, and I take that as my cue to jump in. “I’m sure we’ll figure that out closer to the time,” I say. “Like I said, nothing is set in stone. I’m just happy to do whatever Biddy wants.”

My parents share a look and Patrick dips his head. “Do you have a style of dress you’re looking for?” Mom asks.

“Yes, actually,” Bridget replies. “Something classic, but not boring.”

Isobel nods along, seemingly interested in this part of the conversation. As the ladies delve into conversation about dresses, table placements, and colour schemes, Oscar leans across the table.

“Can I talk to you?”

We excuse ourselves and head to the kitchen. Oscar leans against the counter and folds his arms over his chest. He’s giving me the look I used to give him when I caught him trying to sneak out to parties when he was seventeen. He runs his hand over the top of his buzz cut and frowns.

“What’s up?” I ask, frowning when he bites the inside of his mouth—something he does when he’s unsure whether he should speak up or not. “Out with it. We don’t keep shit from each other, remember?”

He takes a deep breath. “Just…be careful, man,” he says, his voice hushed. “This can get out of hand real quick if you don’t squash it now. Isobel is already smitten with her and it’s not going to be long before Mom gets attached. You don’t want things to get messy.”

“And if they don’t?” I counter. “It doesn’t have to get out of hand like you think it will. I’ve got it, don’t worry. Shit won’t get messy.”

Oscar takes a step closer to me and places his hands on my shoulders. His brown eyes meet my own and I see the worry there. “Elias, listen to me. Things will get messy, because I know you. You will fall for this girl, and if things work out then great, but when Mom finds out you’ve been lying to everyone…” He trails off. “Fuck, I don’t even want to think about how upset she’ll be. You know I’m only saying this because I love you. You’re my big brother and I want to protect you just as much as you protect me.”

I sigh. “I got this, okay?” I reassure him. “It’ll be fine.”

Oscar doesn’t reply as he pats me on the shoulder on his way back into the dining room. I stand in the kitchen for a little while longer and think about what he says. Things could get messy, but thankfully, we’re not planning on letting it get that far. We’ll keep this facade up for a month or so and then go our separate ways, because the married life isn’t cut out for everyone, and it’ll be fine.

It will all be fine.