Chapter 19

Nineteen

MARISSA

Autumn breezes change into winter winds as the Thanksgiving holiday approaches. My love and I plan to split the vacation time between our families. Mom, dad, and I usually spend the lunch hour with my father’s sister and her family. Then my parents and I visit my mom’s family, where her siblings and their respective families have a huge gathering.

Xavier explained that his holidays were usually skippable, with just his father and his father’s wife, Millie. Since high school, he and Big G would go to his aunt and uncle’s to spend time with Mason. Levi would usually come over after his own family dinner, and they’d all get stoned and watch football together. This year, however, everyone is starting new traditions. We’ll visit his family for lunch and mine for dinner.

I’m nervous about meeting Mr. Malcolm Cardell and his wife. The way I told my therapist I deal with things is to go through several outfits to find something to wear. She helped me focus on good thoughts about the dinner, choosing to envision a positive outcome. And I do try, but as I settle on a wide-checked tan turtleneck sweater dress that reaches just above my knees, my stomach tightens in knots. Sliding on a pair of faux suede boots and my brown satchel bag, I finish up in the bathroom by curling, then fluffing my long brown hair into a low ponytail. My green eyes sparkle with the eyeshadow I chose today.

There. I look presentable. Hopefully, the Cardells are okay with poor Marissa Matlock from nowhere, dating their billionaire heir son.

The big Land Rover picks me up from my apartment. As I descend the steps toward the parking lot, Xavier jumps out to open my door for me. He hates when I don’t wait for him upstairs, but the nerves wouldn’t let me today. My heart races at the sight of him, completely dashing in his slim-fit coffee-colored turtleneck and gray striped pants. Aviator sunglasses hide his eyes, but his broad smile lights up his cheeks as he sees me. His voice is peppy as he says, “Fuck…kitten. You look amazing. Do we have time to go back upstairs?”

I laugh, playfully slapping his forearm. “No, but definitely later. Let’s go.” And with a head-spinning, thigh-clenching kiss, that tames my nerves ever-so slightly, we head off to his house.

Well, “house” is a misnomer. Georgian in style and stately in nature, the red brick mansion stands behind a short stone fence with a long, paved driveway curling toward the entry. The front door holds a wheat wreath and is surrounded with gigantic planters filled with mums of all colors. Smoke spills from each of the four chimneys atop the roof. Large bay windows flank the front, while dark green shuttered windows line the rest of the house.

With a little gasp, I ask, “You grew up here?”

“Home sweet home,” Xavier says, voice filled with sarcasm, as he parks the car at the top of the circular drive.

When we enter a parqueted entry, a robust woman with ruddy cheeks and gray hair approaches, grabbing Xavier in a tight hug. “Xavi, so glad you came here this year. I made all your favorites. And no sweet potatoes near your seat.” Taking a gander at me, she exclaims, “Oh, my. This must be Marissa.”

The woman warmly embraces me, rambling with excitement before I can even respond. “I’m so thrilled to meet you. You are beautiful, just like he said. I’m Charlene, but call me Mama C. I take care of the cooking and cleaning when I feel like it.” She breaks the hug to stand back, thumb towards Xavier, and laughs. “And cover this one’s messes.” I instantly love her. “You want any secrets on this man, I’ll tell you.”

Giggling, I tell her, “I would love to hear some.”

“Marissa, don’t believe a thing she tells you. Her memory has been failing these last few years, and she likes to make stuff up.” Xavier’s dimples crinkle his cheeks as he grins. With a wave of his arm, he leads us to a formal living room on our right.

A tall man, who can only be Xavier’s father, jumps up from a floral sofa where he’d been reading a book. He pulls a pair of wire-rimmed glasses off his face and smiles brightly as we enter. Familiar icy eyes, black hair, and a chiseled jaw greet me. Xavier’s father, however, has a few days’ old beard and gray sprinkled at his temples. He’s strikingly handsome, and I can picture Xavier growing to look like him in twenty years.

Like Mama C, Malcolm hugs his son tightly, then breaks apart while giving him a sharp pat on the back. “I missed you. So glad you decided to come.” He’s casually dressed in a navy cable-knit sweater and chinos. Wool-lined moccasins cover his feet. Maybe I’m overdressed.

Xavier clutches my hand and pulls me forward. “Dad, this is Marissa, my girlfriend. Marissa, this is my father, Malcolm Cardell.”

“Marissa, I’m so glad to finally meet you. Please, just call me Mal.” Sticking out a palm, I slide mine into his, and he shakes it enthusiastically. “I don’t know if you’re a hugger, but you’ll probably get one from me after a couple of drinks. And definitely from my wife.” He pauses and tilts his head toward another room and yells, “Millie! They’re here!” His eyes gleam as he gives me a big smile.

A petite, gorgeous blonde woman enters, dressed smartly in a turquoise cowl neck sweater with matching wool pants. She wears dangly pearl earrings and is barefoot, displaying perfectly painted red toenails. “Oh, Marissa! I couldn’t wait to meet you!” Mal is right. His wife runs straight to me and gathers me snugly in her little arms. Her head barely clears my chin. “I’m Millie. We’re just so excited for Xavier to bring you home, finally. Sorry, Xavi,” she says as she gives Xavier a pointed look. “Missed you, buddy.” She stands on her tiptoes to hug his waist.

“Missed you, too, Mill.” Xavier smiles at me gently as he grips her back.

A family of huggers. Xavier’s affectionate, so I guess that’s where he learned the trait, but it’s still shocking. It’s surprising to see him in this wholesome environment.

“You guys hungry? C made all your favorites, Xavi. Marissa, I hope you like pie. We didn’t know what kind, so we made a bunch of different ones. Let’s see. There’s pumpkin, pecan, chocolate, coconut, lemon…” She leads us through the enormous kitchen and into a formal dining room, listing off all the pies she baked. All the love they show makes me feel overwhelmed.

Mal strolls behind me and places his hands on the tops of my shoulders. “Just play along. She’s been so excited since we knew you were coming.”

“I’m excited to be here,” I tell him.

We sit at the formal dining table, traditional in style. Mama C serves up course after course of delectable foods, each a modern twist on an old favorite. Xavier has his own dish of mashed potatoes and stuffing, apparently made just how he likes, and no one else is allowed to eat it.

“Xavier showed me some of your portraits, Marissa. Millie and I went to Artayo gallery to view more of your work. You have incredible talent. Really impressive,” Mal says as Millie nods enthusiastically while sitting next to him.

“Thank you,” I respond. Whispering to Xavier, I ask, “You showed them?”

His lips broaden into a shy smile. “Of course. They were curious.”

Millie grins at me and says, “Heard you loved the cabin décor. I helped Xavi with it. I’m very proud of how it turned out. He showed me your Pinterest when we were finishing it for inspiration.”

So that’s how he knew… Pinterest. My jaw drops open, the gravy feeling heavy in my stomach. Xavier shovels mashed potatoes into his mouth.

Swallowing, I reply somewhat robotically. “Yes, I love it. It feels like home.”

“So when are you guys planning to move in there? Before or after the wedding?” Millie asks.

Sputtering a loud cough, I choke on a bite of turkey. My fingers reach out to snatch a glass, and I chug some water while Xavier pats me on the back. After regaining some control, I manage to ask through a strained voice, “The wedding?”

Mal addresses me. “Oh, by the way, Marissa. Please tell your father not to even consider paying for a thing. Unless you think that would be an insult. Maybe I should call him. Xavier, should I talk with him about it? Would you mind giving me his number? Oh, but your parents are coming to our Christmas party, right? I could ask then, I suppose.”

“Christmas party?” Fluttering my eyelashes with the question, I glance at Xavier, who continues to stuff his face with food. “I’m sorry, I don’t….” I flounder, looking at the side of my boyfriend’s face for help. But he ignores me.

Millie interrupts, “Oh, no. Was it a surprise? Xavi, did we ruin it?” She slaps her hand over her mouth.

Xavier swallows. “No. They’re coming. Probably best to wait and ask him then.” He grabs my hand from the table and places it on his lap.

Millie sighs with some relief. “Thank God. I thought I messed up there. Well, Marissa, I certainly want us to sit down with your mom and discuss venues, themes, you know, all the fun stuff! Unless you want to go on your own or hire someone, there’s really no pressure. I just love to do it. I never had children, so Xavi is like mine, and you’ll be my daughter.” Her eyes glisten with tears, until she wipes them with her cloth napkin. “I’m so sorry. I’m just happy you’re joining our little family.”

Mal reaches over and cuddles her under his arm, then meets my gaze. “We are, Marissa. We’re so very happy you’ll be a part of us. It feels…more complete. Especially once you guys have your first child.” Mal nods to Xavier, as if encouraging him to get started right now.

Xavier heaps stuffing with gravy in his open gullet while I gape at everyone around the table. I’m completely lost in some bizarro world. If I ask more questions or cause a scene, I fear it’d be rude, but what is going on? Reality is hitting me over the head. He’s been completely serious this whole time about wanting to get me pregnant.

Recalling my experiences with the Stevensons, I expected coldness, trying to win the approval of rich, snobbish royalty that don’t know how to love. Instead, I’m co-starring in a Donna Reed Show episode. Somehow, my life has been planned, and I’m already married and pregnant with Xavier’s baby.

Until Xavier and I can discuss things in private, I’ll pretend to be the dream daughter-in-law they desire. But as soon as we get in the car, I’m grilling him. Anger rises in my temples, which pound with a fresh headache.

Glancing between Mal and Millie, I say, “You two have been so welcoming, and I appreciate the warmth you’ve shown me. I feel like a part of the family.” Xavier squeezes my fingers.

After dinner, we lounge as a group in their TV room. The men watch football while Millie discusses wedding plan options, going over different themes and color stories. It’s apparently supposed to be a spring wedding, taking place in just a few months.

Once we wave our goodbyes and head to the SUV, I jump in and give Xavier a death glare. He turns on the music, picking out a Christmas channel, and drives off toward my aunt’s house. I wait for him to say something, anything, too furious to get the words out without fully exploding, but he just sings along to the tune.

Finally, I bust open, spurting the words out like fire. “What the hell, Xavier?!”

Unphased by my outburst, he raises his eyebrows. “Hmm? It’s beginning to look a lot like…”

“Seriously, Xavier. Stop.” Tapping the button to turn the radio off, I yell, “What the hell was that about?” I didn’t even know my voice pitch could reach so high.

With a little shrug, he smiles brightly, as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. “What was what about? They all loved you. I knew they would.”

“I just spent an hour making plans with Millie for a wedding I didn’t even know I was having.”

“Oh, yeah. She loves doing it, but if you don’t want her help, she’ll understand,” Xavier says, keeping his eyes on the road. He glances in the rearview mirror.

“Xavier.” He won’t look at me. “Xavier. I don’t remember you asking me to marry you. We’ve only been together a few months.”

Finally, his blue eyes dart at my thigh as he picks up my hand. “Well, sometimes you just know.” Pulling our interlaced fingers to his lips, he kisses my knuckles. Maybe so I won’t punch him.

“But…I don’t know.” Huffing out a breath, I sit back. Then calmer, I state, “I mean, I can see a future with you, but I need more time to date you.”

“Okay. Got it. Love you.” Focusing on the road, his lips lift into a tiny grin, then flatten just as quickly.

“Okay. Great. I love you, too.” Letting some tension from my shoulders go, I take a deep breath. Our first fight. Huh. I guess I won.

Xavier can tell his over-loving parents to back off, and then maybe we’ll be able to discuss something other than wedding plans and babies next time. The thing is, I can see myself with him. But I’ve never really fought back with someone before. Not with Trevor, not with James… Despite Xavier having a raging temper, I don’t seem phased at all to incite him. No. In fact, I kind of like to see his reaction.

The fact he’s so calmly agreeing with me lets me know…we work well together. Maybe this is it. Maybe he’s the one. Am I insane for thinking that after only a few months together? Sometimes it’s tough to know who is the crazy one between us: Xavier or me.

As we reach my aunt’s house, the kids are rolling in leaf piles in the front yard. After introducing Xavier to my extended family, I hug my parents hello. Xavier and my father shake hands but don’t say much to each other. Xavier sits in the corner of the living room with my dad, uncles, and older cousins, everyone watching football. My aunts, mom, and I share a bottle of wine in the kitchen.

Sipping her red, my older aunt, Tessa, says, “Xavier’s adorable.”

“No, he’s not. He’s fucking hot, Marissa. Well done!” My mom’s youngest sister, Kim, slaps me on the back and giggles.

“Kim!” my mom yells at her. “Xavier is so polite and smart. He’s a great match for her,” she says, eyeing her sisters. Tessa pours us all another glass, and I feel dazed on the drink already.

“So how big is he?” Kim asks from behind the other side of the kitchen island. She says it right next to my mom, who spins and swats her shoulder.

“Kim! Stop it!”

Biting my lip, I let my eyebrows wiggle, and her jaw drops before exclaiming, “He’s a keeper, then!”

Tessa laughs loudly as my mom scoffs at us.

It’s almost dinnertime, and I go on a hunt to find Xavier, so we don’t get stuck at the kid’s table. He’s not with the other guys anymore, but neither is my father. Some hope fills me that they are talking about whatever has been going on between them.

I glance outside, but I don’t see either of them. When I pass the den, the door stands slightly ajar. My father sternly addresses someone, and I cut back around the corner to listen.

“So, what? You’re trying to hurt my daughter to get at me?”

Xavier responds, “Things have changed for me. You know what you did⁠—”

“Look, I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t. If I could go back…” There’s a pause. “Just leave her out of this. Break it off sooner rather than later. She doesn’t deserve to be hurt.”

“Not happening,” Xavier says, some anger behind his words that has my chest tightening.

“You—”

“Marissa! I missed you!” My little cousin, Chloe, finds me eavesdropping in the hall.

“Marissa?” my father asks from inside the den. Busted.

The door creaks open, revealing my father and Xavier, both with ruddy faces and tense shoulders. My father squints as he eyes me. Giving them a bright smile, I say, “Dinner’s ready!”

“Thanks, pumpkin.” He brushes past my shoulder in a huff.

Xavier strolls out behind him and places his lips against my cheek. My cousin makes “ooh” noises at us as we walk into the dining room, hand in hand. Staring at him to gauge his reaction, I keep my questions to myself until we can be alone again.

The rest of the meal goes smoothly, and the sea of my relatives around us drowns out any conversation. Saying polite goodbyes, Xavier helps me back into his SUV.

“What happened in there?” I ask as I buckle my seatbelt.

Xavier smiles. “It was a good meal, I thought. I liked Uncle Ken. He was funny.”

He’s avoiding my questions again. “Xavier, what happened in the den with my father?”

His fingers flip on some music that fills the small space, making it difficult to converse. Practically yelling, he says, “Oh, just a minor disagreement. That’s what in-laws do, right? Disagree with you?”

“What was the disagreement about?” I ask, eyes narrowing.

Pointing to his ear, he asks, “What? Sorry, can’t hear.”

I turn off the stereo. “Seriously, what was the disagreement about? I didn’t think you two talked much.”

His eyes focus on the road for quite some time before he responds, “We don’t.”

“So then why⁠—”

“Marissa, drop it. It was nothing.” The words depart his lips as a definitive command. He’s done with the subject, apparently.

Irked, I sulk in my seat. Their heated exchange didn’t seem like “nothing” to me.

Recently, Xavier and I have been alternating whose place we stay at overnight, so I assume he’ll come upstairs with me after he parks in the apartment lot. He helps me alight from the passenger side, and his arms embrace me. Gazing into my eyes, his expression seems saddened until he kisses me deeply, then presses his thumb against my bottom lip. For several minutes, he stares at me as if memorizing everything about my face. When he pulls away, my body shivers from his lack of warmth.

Quietly, too slowly, he says, “I love you, Marissa. Goodnight.” Then he slides back into his car and drives away. The empty street causes my heart to pound anxiously in my chest. Left abandoned, I stand with my hands on my hips, confused and a little scared.

His goodnight sounded more like goodbye.