Kissing Frogs Page 6
“Cassidy.”
I was at the other end of the table pouring a glass of wine for Jack when Matt called to me. The imperious tone of his voice grated on my nerves and I was tempted to ignore him. I didn’t even have the chance to answer him when he barked at me yet again.
“Cassidy! I’m talking to you.”
I took a deep breath and mentally stomped on the urge to hurl the wine bottle at his head. “Yes, Matt? Is there something you need?” My tone was polite as I looked down at him, a testament to my willpower. He was holding up his teaspoon and examining it with a frown on this face. Oh, God. What now?
“Is this… stainless steel?” His voice dripped with disdain as he spoke.
Um, what? I stared at him for a long moment with my brain on lockdown. “It is, yes,” I said, wondering what the overwhelming disdain for my flatware was all about. “Why? Is there a problem?”
“I prefer sterling silver over stainless steel. Sterling silver makes even mediocre food taste better. I find stainless steel somewhat substandard. But I imagine that someone like you probably won’t have sterling silver.” His words were short and brusque.
Third strike. Although I had to give him points with the widespread range of insult in that single comment. He insulted my character as well as my cooking, not to mention that of my mother and grandmother. That was a cardinal sin in their books. It was impressive. I felt a vindictive surge of glee.
However, when I glanced around the table to gauge the reactions, I realized that just about everyone missed our exchange, everyone except Kyra and Tom. Kyra looked as if she wanted to come over and pee in his potato salad. Tom looked shocked and maybe a little bit frightened for him and he should be. Matt was putting himself in harm’s way, even if he was too self-absorbed to realize that fact. I was about five seconds away from punching him in his too perfect nose. As a matter of fact, I did have sterling silver, thank you very much. But I sure as hell wasn’t going to offer it up to His Royal Arrogant Asshat.
Dinner was awkward at best, though we managed to maintain the façade that everything was fine. But it wasn’t quite as boisterous as our big family dinners usually were. And for reasons I didn’t totally understand, Mac seemed to be getting more and more annoyed with me by the moment, although the wine probably didn’t help. The longer dinner went on, the more sarcasm accompanied every word she said to me. Nor did it help that her voice got louder and louder until everything she said could be heard by everyone. The elephant wasn't just back in the room. It had taken a seat at the table.
The only two people that seemed to be unconcerned with the negative vibes were Grandma Fi and Matt. My grandmother was either ignoring it altogether or she was a wee bit tipsy on the red wine, which was entirely likely. She was bright and cheery as she chatted with everyone around her as if nothing at all were amiss. And then there was Matt. Of course, this was his first time with the Flanagan crew, so maybe he didn’t even notice.
I was so disgustingly polite that I was on the verge of choking on it. It wasn’t that I was generally a raging bitch, but sugar sweet I was not. But I promised an open mind, so I would be damned if I didn’t follow through. Matt, for his part, was polite, at least to everyone but me. And it was gratifying to discover that he actually did have topics in his repertoire that involved something other than himself. I also learned that he did, in fact, know the meanings of the words “please” and “thank you,” even if they didn’t get applied to me. I got mostly orders. He was charming.
I spent most of dinner brainstorming potential chapter titles for the story of Matt, most of them involving a wide range of salty language. The rest of the time, I watched the frog that Kyra had put on the table between her plate and mine. It was eyeing my food in an almost predatory manner and I was getting twitchy with my fork. I swore the thing was checking me out and that was creepy.
By the time I brought out dessert, the angst was at an all-time high. The elephant was tap dancing on the table at this point. Even my grandmother’s wine-induced lack of awareness had gone by the wayside. The Royal Asshat noticed, too, judging by the pointed barbs he occasionally threw at me. But as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t really blame it on him, at least not entirely. Most of it was Mac and her blatant attitude.
Finally, dessert wound down and everyone sat around the tables, talking and drinking coffee. Yet despite the awkwardness, no one showed any signs of leaving. But at least that left me free to start clearing the tables. I thought it was best I stay away from human interaction for a little while.
I stopped behind my parents to reach for their dishes and my mother tugged the hem of my shirt before I could move away. I looked down at her and she waggled a finger at me. I sighed and bent down, dreading the delivery of either a guilt trip or a lecture.
“We love you, Cassidy. I hope you know that,” Mom whispered. “We only want you to be happy and it’s pretty clear that you’re floundering right now. You can’t seem to find anyone on your own and we want to help.”
Her words were sweet and caring on the surface, but the tone of judgment that went along with them was anything but and I couldn’t stop an exasperated sigh. As soon as it left my mouth, I knew I made a mistake. A cold look of admonishment hardened her face. But I was frustrated. I didn’t feel like I was floundering, but I was out of creative and effective ways to make them understand that.
“That’s a little harsh, Mom, don’t you think?” I whispered back at her, still bent over the back of her chair with my arms full of dishes. “Is it really that hard to believe that I might actually like being single? Shit,” I said, earning myself another glare from my mother. “I was with Luke for more than a decade. It’s kind of nice to be on my own. And when I’m ready, I can handle finding my own man.”
The moment the last words left my mouth, I knew I’d made another tactical error. I hadn’t meant to be so blunt, but I was frustrated. And there was no taking them back. Her eyes grew colder as they narrowed with the focus of lasers at me.
“Well, honey. I am not sure you even know what you want. Your relationship with Luke didn’t turn out very well, now did it? You got dumped before you even made it to the altar.”
“Wow.” I stood up sharply, stung by her words. Whatever remorse I had felt for my harsh words was gone in a second. “Is there any kind of statute of limitations on how long you can rub that in?”
She waved a hand at me, almost knocking the dishes out of my hands. “Stop being so dramatic, Cassidy. Not even you can deny that you aren’t good with men. And you haven’t lived long enough to understand that a good relationship can make all the difference in your life. No one wants to be alone and you don’t have to be if you let us help you.”
“Stop being dramatic? Damn it, Mom,” I snapped, earning myself another dirty look. “I’m not thirteen. I can handle my love life just fine on my own. For the love of all that’s holy and unholy, can you please drop it? Please?” If I had to, I’d beg. I wasn’t proud. I was desperate.
She let out a Mom-patented huff. “Fine. I’ll drop it. But not until after I tell you that I’m disappointed in you. Despite your repeated promises, you refuse to have an open mind about these young men. You seem to be at least marginally successful in every other part of your life, but you aren’t taking this seriously. You need to find a good man. You won’t be truly happy until you are married. Besides, you aren’t getting any younger.” With another expressive sniff, she let go of my shirt and turned away, dismissing me.
There were so many things wrong with what she said that I didn’t even know what to be annoyed about most. For one thing, I thought I’d been admirably open-minded today. And then there was that subtle “marginally successful” dig, which I decided to ignore. Her disdain of my professional life didn’t matter much at the moment. It was her scorn of my lack of a love life that was front and center, which led to yet another glaringly wrong point. What the hell? When exactly had my mother gone anti-feminist? I can’t be truly happy without a man? Se
riously? Was I supposed to pick a man, any man, just to avoid being alone? And she was disappointed in me? I went out on more of these unwanted dates than I got out of and gave every one of them a chance. But I’d be damned if I’d let myself get hooked up with anyone without feeling like there was a reason to.
I was beyond hurt and angry, but there was no point in arguing. Without another word, I walked away and escaped to the kitchen. After dumping the dishes in the sink, I laid my hands on the cool granite and took a minute to calm myself down. My eyes filled with tears and I wiped them away angrily, refusing to give in to them.
When I finally went back outside, my dad and Matt were deep in conversation about one case or another. I took the opportunity to slip behind them and take their dishes, hoping they wouldn’t notice me. But then I made the mistake of glancing back over my shoulder at my dad as I walked away. It was just in time to catch a wadded-up napkin in the face. Matt paid zero attention to what he had done, continuing on as if nothing had happened. I met my father’s eyes and felt a small rush of vindication when I saw the shocked look on his face. Finally! Someone who sees what I do. Matt was so deep in his own words that he didn’t even notice my father’s expression. Not a great tactical move, mistreating the boss’s daughter right in front of him. What an ass.
Tom and my sister were in the middle of a rather heated conversation that lapsed into silence the moment I approached. Not wanting to be a part of any more drama than absolutely necessary, I kept quiet as I gathered up their plates and silverware as quickly as humanly possible. I was kneeling at my sister’s feet picking up a fork I’d dropped when I heard her voice hissing just above my head.
“Don’t you think you’re being a bit of a bitch?”
Shocked, I whipped my head up to look at her. The venom that dripped from her voice was completely unlike her.
“Excuse me?”
“Oh, come off it, Cass. You know exactly what I mean.”
I thought I’d been rather nice, considering the level of jerk that Matt had attained over the course of the afternoon. I struggled to answer, although my instinct was to go with the string of vulgarities that were on the tip of my tongue. I was on the verge of answering with something less R-rated when she let out a huff of impatience at my silence.
“Well? Are you going to answer me?”
I stood up too fast and the dishes in my hands wobbled. A glob of potato salad slid off one of the plates and landed on her shoulder. Mac was so focused on me that she didn’t notice and I took perverse pleasure in not telling her about it. She wanted to accuse me of being a bitch so I thought I should earn the title.
“I wasn’t aware that I needed to. You seem to have all the answers anyway.” I whispered the words, trying to keep our drama on the down low.
“Well, I don’t have the answer to this.”
“Look, Mac. I don’t know what’s crawled up your ass today. You seemed fine when you were conning me into taking the damn frog. I haven’t done anything to deserve your attitude and you know it. So, can we maybe not do this right now? Or, I don’t know… at all?”
“You haven’t? You’ve pretty much ignored Matt. It’s not like you have too many guys knocking at your door. Do you really think you can afford to blow off another one?”
“Now who’s being the bitch?” Maybe I hadn’t rolled out the red carpet, but I thought I’d been pretty nice to him, especially considering his exemplary skill at douche nozzlery. After all, I could have been a whole lot bitchier about him, his attitude, and the entire situation.
“Ease up, Mac,” Tom interjected in a whisper, a frown on his face. “Don’t you think you’re being a little rough on her? He hasn't exactly been so nice to her.”
“Stay out of it, Tom,” she snapped. “This is between my sister and me.”
The look of hurt that crossed her husband’s face was unmistakable, but Mac was completely oblivious. She was too intent on taking me down to even notice. My sister could be tough, but she wasn’t this much of a bitch about it.
“Maybe you could tell me why you have your panties in a knot, Mac. Or why you feel the need to bring it up right here right now. Do you suppose we could save the drama for when we don’t have an audience?”
She waved a hand in my face, dismissing my words. She looked just like our mother when she did it. It was annoying when Mom did it and it wasn't any better with Mac. She was lucky she didn't lose that hand.
“You’re still pining away after Luke and taking it out on every guy that gets within twenty-five feet of you. What the hell is wrong with you? The guy screwed you over. You know that. Hell, we all knew that long before you managed to get your head out of your ass. Get over it and move on. He wasn’t exactly that great catch in the first place. He was just some displaced kid who should have been in foster care. You never would’ve gotten in that mess if you hadn’t pushed him on us.”
“Wow, Mac. You’re all heart. It’s good to know you were full of shit all these years. And for the last damn time, I don’t give a rat’s ass about Luke.”
“Whatever. And I wasn’t faking it, at least not the whole time. He was hot, and maybe I got taken in by his sob story for a while. But I grew up and saw through the pretty face. You didn’t. I’m sick of watching you moping around over some guy who isn’t worth it. We’re just trying to help you find a decent guy who can take care of you.”
“Who can take care of me? Are you kidding me right now? No offense, but my definition of a decent guy seems to be very different from yours. I give you Exhibit A,” I retorted. I gestured to Matt who was once again delivering a monologue, this time on his mad golf skills.
“Don’t be so damn picky. You’d be lucky to have a guy like Matt,” she scoffed.
“I don’t know that I would call that luck. Or, at least, not good luck,” I said dryly.
She raised an eyebrow and looked at me with that superior look I’d always thought was hysterical. Until it was directed at me.
“Your track record isn’t exactly stunning, Cass.”
I wanted to slap her. Most of the time, I wasn’t particularly prone to violence, or even thoughts of it. But there was something about arrogant idiots and the people who push them at me that drove me to it. Mac needed to remove whatever object was lodged in her butt, and fast.
“Oh, my God, Mac. It was one guy. One freakin’ guy for more than a decade. And for all you claim I’m not over it, you harp on it way more than I do and he was my boyfriend. Why is everyone so concerned about my love life? Don’t you have anything better to do?” Whatever contentment I had felt earlier was long gone and I had a feeling it wouldn’t be back any time soon.
When the elephant was on the verge of taking naps on each and every one of their laps, the party finally wound down. As much as I wanted to reign supreme in my own fortress of solitude now, I wished the afternoon had gone differently. Kyra was leaving in less than a week for France and she had gotten stuck in the middle of this mess. As everyone milled about saying goodbye, I packed up a bunch of goodies for her. I knew she wasn’t mad at me, but I still wanted to make up for it.
Matt was the first to leave and I begrudgingly walked him to the door, doing my best to be gracious. I thanked him for the wine, which Grandma Fiona had made a good dent in, and even thanked him for coming. But Catholic school nuns would have approved of the physical distance I tried to keep between us. However, my social cues were lost on the guy. I put my hand out, but instead of shaking it, he grabbed it and pulled me to him. His other arm snaked around my waist and held me tightly against him. He stared at me with a deep, intense look that was somewhere between predatory and downright creepy. Before I could escape his grasp, he bent his head and laid one on me. I was so shocked that I forgot to move. His lips were rubbery and weirdly bumpy, slick with spit. He slipped his tongue between my teeth and slobbered all over the inside of my mouth. For a split second, I was tempted to bite down on it. It was the single most disgusting kissing experience I had ever had.
He was still walking down my sidewalk with misplaced swagger when the others queued up to leave. Tom smiled at me sheepishly and so did my dad, both of them giving me a hug before leaving. My grandmother took off her favorite pink pashmina and wrapped it around my shoulders, whispering that I needed it more than she did. Brian and Pete hugged me and so did their girlfriends, all four of them whispering encouragement to me. Mom hugged me, but definitely not with her usual enthusiasm and warmth. It was like snuggling an iceberg, a hug that was more for show than anything else.
Taylor came next, dragging her husband by the hand. The two of them almost suffocated me with a group hug. Mark kissed me on the cheek and told me to have a good time with my new love, the frog. I responded in a lady-like manner, sticking my tongue out at him and telling him to go perform biological impossibilities with himself. Taylor giggled and licked me on the ear, a weird habit that was somehow both gross and funny. She always claimed that she was marking her territory. She was a weird chick, but I loved her.
Mac followed Taylor and I expected her to pass me by. But she didn't, although she might as well have. Her hug was about as sincere and warm as my mother's. She muttered something unintelligible in my ear, but I thought I made out the word "sorry" in there. It might have been wishful thinking since I wanted to believe her bitch fest was over. I didn’t get a chance to ask before she walked away, stopping at the top of the steps outside to wait for Kyra with Tom.