After much planning, the day of the much-anticipated engagement party has finally arrived, and Becky boards the T at eleven-thirty on Saturday morning to take the hour-long train ride out to the waterfront so she could help Freen set up before the arrival of the guests later that afternoon.
Freen picked the location, a hotel on the Boston waterfront. She immediately suggested it when she and Becky started planning the party, since she was staying there herself and found it to be up to her high standards of elegance. Becky tried not to think about how much the rooms must cost per night, let alone the event space rental, but as usual, Freen vowed to pay for all of it.
In the end, though Freen bankrolled the affair, Becky is proud of what she contributed to the event planning. Mainly, she consulted on what decorations or activities Carolyn would find absolutely repulsive, and which were likely to garner her modest approval. While Freen swiped her credit card, Becky provided such helpful facts like: Carolyn only likes chocolate cake when it's paired with buttercream frosting. She can't stand that plastic cutlery that's designed to look like metal, because "it's fooling no one". By pooling their skillsets, they've ended up with a party that Becky anticipates will get a slight smile, and perhaps even a small verbal affirmation out of her mother, which is no mean feat.
The hotel is absolutely enormous, host to various conferences and events, and Becky is about to pull out her phone and text Freen, until she spots the woman herself across the gigantic lobby, waving at Becky from a hundred feet away.
She doesn't stop waving for the thirty seconds it takes Becky to walk over. "Good to see you," she greets Becky cheerfully. Absolutely no indication that she's angry, annoyed, or even concerned about the fact that Becky hasn't responded to any of her attempts at contact in the past week. Becky has sent no texts, no calls, nor any other method communication ever since they last saw each other at the ice cream shop, but you wouldn't know it from the excited look on Freen's face.
So Becky decides to play it off like nothing's happened, too. "How's it going?"
"I'll show you the room we've got," Freen says, and turns to lead the way at a rather brisk pace. Becky has to hurry to keep up.
It isn't a long journey, though, as they end up in a stylish conference room that still has a direct view of the reception desk out the door. One long table holds the beverages (alcoholic and otherwise), another with the cake still covered in plastic, and assorted appetizers, and next to them, the bags of decorations sit gathered together on the floor.
"Nice," Becky says, surveying the room.
"It will look better once we set everything up," Freen says, and bends down to fish out a packet of balloons from one of the bags. She empties them onto one of the tables, and both her and Becky begin blowing up balloons.
Becky is glad that they can't talk while they work, since the balloons keep their mouths occupied. It spares her from having to figure out how to keep pretending like she hasn't been an asshole and a half to Freen over the past week.
The room grows more festive with thirty-odd gold and silver balloons floating about. As the last uninflated balloon sits on the table, both Becky and Freen reach for it at the same time, and their hands collide.
"I'm sorry," Becky gushes reflexively, drawing her hand away.
"It's only a balloon," Freen says, and gestures for Becky to take it.
"No," Becky says, and before she knows it, the rest comes flooding out of her. "I'm sorry for uh... for everything, really. For leading you on right after we met, then for pushing you away, and I'm sorry for ghosting you the past week."
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And Our Parents
Roman d'amourBecky, we are all adults here." "It's hard to take that seriously when you have your hand in my pants. The chemistry between Becky and Freen is obvious and immediate, so it's awkward when they find out their parents are getting married. This is a co...
