Best Laid Plans

Family Brunch

Jade

"Explain to me why I have to go to brunch? In your clothing? That's not weird at all, by the way. Not at all."

We're in the elevator at my residence and Perrie hasn't stopped complaining for the entirety of the descent to the lobby. Forty floors. Thankfully, we're alone. The elevator did make a stop on the thirty-second floor. A guy I've seen a few times in the building took one look at Perrie – who was in the midst of one of her hostile jazz hand displays – before stepping back with a small head nod to me as if to say, 'Best of luck, girl. I'll catch the next elevator'.

"Because we need to eat and your last night's dress isn't brunch-appropriate. And because one of us fell asleep at a quarter past ten before we had a chance to discuss our predicament."

"Because one of us is pregnant. It's exhausting. And we're not in a predicament. It's the twenty-first century and as I've just explained to you, I've got this covered. I don't need you."

Huh.

Not needed. That's harsh. And rude. Very harsh and very rude.

"I could do with less of your attitude, Perrie," I mutter as the elevator finally reaches the lobby. I've never noticed before how many words could be crammed into that descent.

"We all have our crosses to bear, Jade. The point is, I was only trying to locate you in order to notify you. I don't need anything. I'm quite capable on my own."

"I know. You thought you'd notify me and bounce. Because it's the polite thing to do," I remind her of what she said yesterday when she so articulately explained her reasons for crashing the party posing as my fiancée.

"That is correct," she agrees, her chin tilted up in defiance.

I stare at her for a moment, wondering what this would be like if it weren't so complicated. This situation. Me. Us.

We exit my building and I guide Perrie with a hand on her lower back. It's a two-block walk to my regular Sunday brunch spot. The Dandelion is a pub tucked into an old brick building in the heart of downtown London. It's got the requisite bar inside, a big vintage piece complete with a wall covered with liquor bottles behind. But the rest of the place is filled with scratched-up wooden tables and mismatched chairs. Aged photos of English hunting dogs haphazardly hung over red leather banquet seats tucked into corners.

It's comfortable, and Clara, my grandmother, loves it. She's already here, along with Julia, seated at a brightly lit table complete with a window seat framed by heavy floral drapes.

The moment Perrie spots Julia she freezes, her steps faltering. I may have forgotten to mention we weren't dining alone. Or neglected to mention it. Semantics.

"That's my grandmother with Julia. My mother's mother," I murmur into her ear as I grasp her hand and tug her in their direction.

"You can't be serious." She tugs back on her hand, but I've got a firm hold and I'm not letting go.

"I'm definitely serious," I tell her as Clara and Julia notice our arrival and then everyone is standing and hugging.

"Julia mentioned you had news," my grandmother enthuses while grasping Perrie in a tight hug. "I'm so thrilled for you, Jade!" She steps back allowing Perrie to breathe. "Aren't you lovely? No wonder my granddaughter is so taken with you."

Perrie blinks rapidly like the proverbial deer caught in the headlights. Blink, blink. A glance to me, then back at my grandmother. Blink, blink. She looks a bit like that blinking meme guy.

"You'll call me Clara," my grandmother tells her without missing a beat. "It's what Jade and Julia call me." Perrie nods, and repeats the name back to her, then exhales and glances at me again.