Mia grabbed Adam’s hand and dragged him into her parents’ kitchen, ignoring the flood of questions pouring out of his mouth. She peeked over her shoulders, sending her hair flying into her fiance’s face both times, before letting out an angry huff. When he asked what was wrong, she completely lost any remaining bit of composure.
“What's wrong? You invited your roommate! To my bridal shower!” she said, shaking her pointed finger at him.
“He’s one of my best friends. Why not?” he said.
“I didn’t approve of this!” Mia said, throwing her arms out.
“I sent you a text about it two days ago.”
“You asked him to be a groomsman, didn’t you?”
“Best man, actually.”
Mia closed her eyes and tried to take a deep breath.
“I thought we agreed that my brother was going to be your best man. Your roommate is too short to walk down the aisle with my cousin,” she said. “That guy’s like half a foot shorter than her. It’ll look ridiculous.”
“That guy, Morgan, is one of my best friends. I’ve known him for years and I want him to be my best man. Can’t I choose my own best man?” Adam said.
“Fine,” Mia said, gritting her teeth. “But it’ll be your fault if my bridal party looks stupid in the pictures.”
As soon as Mia walked out of the room, Adam rolled his eyes and sighed. She turned around in the dining room and glared at him, tapping her foot expectantly.
“What?” he said.
She rolled her eyes and sighed loudly.
“Oh, come on,” Adam said. “You don’t have to mock me.”
“You’re insufferable. Can we get this party over with already?”
They walked back into the living room and slumped into their chairs. Every guest was deep in conversation, and for once, Mia was glad that nobody seemed to notice her absence. Adam’s sister, Elena, stopped talking and turned around when she heard him cough.
“Hey, open that one,” Elena pointed to a box on the floor.
Adam put the large box in his lap and carefully ripped the wrapping paper. He smiled when he opened the box, and handed it to Mia.
“Aren’t these the same brand that you have, Mrs. Tidwell?” Adam asked. “They’re really soft.”
“It’s the right brand, but these towels are the wrong color. I put Dark Sand on my registry, not Mocha,” Mia spat, glaring at Adam's sister.
“Yeah, they were sold out of Dark Sand,” Elena said.
“You can keep the towels. I don’t want them,” Mia said, handing the stack of towels to Elena.
“Wait, what? These towels were ridiculously overpriced and the return period is over,” Elena said, pushing the towels away. “You can still use them!”
“Whatever. Next?”
Elena looked at her brother, who only shrugged and shook his head. Mia picked up a small box and examined it, shaking it gently.
“Oh, that one’s from Aunt Leah and Uncle Grant. They couldn’t make it because of Jillian’s birthday party,” Allen, Mia’s father, said.
“Isn’t she in high school? Who has birthday parties in high school?” Mia said, tearing the paper and throwing it on the floor. She looked at Adam for some kind of answer, but he just tried to change the subject.
“You’ve had a birthday party every year,” Allen said. “Even in high school.”
“Yeah, but we have money,” Mia said. “Aunt Leah and Uncle Grant don’t. I bet Jillian's never had a real birthday party.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mia’s mother, Vera, piped up, setting her glass of wine on the coffee table. “My sister and her husband have always been very generous and kind to you. You shouldn’t insult them like that.”
“It’s just the truth,” she said. “You don’t earn a whole lot of money as hippie photographers and filmmakers, but at least they could afford the right coffee mugs.”
“Watch your mouth, young lady,” Vera said, getting up from her seat.
“Stop treating me like a child,” Mia said.
“Then stop acting like one,” Vera said.
The room was completely silent for a few moments, save for the sound of Mia’s deep, heavy breathing. Tension filled the air as mother and daughter stared at each other with growing ferocity. Someone sneezed and the silence was broken, but the tension remained for the rest of the evening.
--- --- ---
Though all the guests had left, Mia and Adam were still sitting in the living room, quietly mulling over the past several hours as they watched television and drank coffee.
“I don’t know what her problem is,” Mia mumbled. She took a sip of her decaf before dumping another packet of sugar into it.
“Who, my sister or your mother?” Adam said. “Because I’m pretty sure that both of their problems are you.”
“Me?” she said, putting her mug on the coffee table.
“Yeah, you.”
“What did I do?”
“What did you do? For Pete’s sake, Mia, I don’t know where to begin,” he said, rubbing his forehead. “First, you made that big stink at dinner because the waiter gave you lasagna instead of baked ziti.”
“They’re two different things! It wasn’t what I ord--”
“I understand that. But it was an accident, he apologized four times, and he brought out your baked ziti almost immediately. And you still chewed him out!”
“This doesn’t have anything to do with my mom or Elena,” she said, crossing her arms.
“Uhh, that’s true. But then you yelled at your mom in the parking lot when she mentioned how you treated him,” Adam said. “And then you rejected my sister’s wedding gift, insulted your mom’s twin sister, and smarted off to your mom, all in front of a bunch of people.”
“Yeah, that was kind of mean, but I was being honest,” Mia said.
“No, you weren’t being honest. You were being a bitch,” Adam said, turning off the television. He started staring at her.
“What?” Mia almost shrieked. “How could you say that to me?”
“Somebody has to call you out on it,” he said. “You’ve been acting so weird ever since you started planning the wedding. It’s like I’m seeing a whole different side of you, and I don’t like it.”
“I can’t believe you called me a bitch,” she said, picking up her coffee mug.
“Are you even listening to me?” Adam said. “What has gotten into you, Mia?”
Adam put his hands on her shoulders and she looked up from her mug. They stared at each other intently, and the longer they did, the more her throat burned and her eyes watered. When she couldn’t take it anymore, she looked away and began to cry.
“Mia?”
She mumbled something incoherent.
“What?”
“Leave me alone.”
So he got up and left.
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notesMia's such a sweetheart, isn't she?
This update took a bit longer than usual because of some writer's block. When I started writing it again, I changed a lot of things and had to go back and take more pictures. But here it is, even if it's kinda short. The next update should be sometime this week.
Also, I've been using Blogger for all these years and I just now figured out how to do a jump break, ha.
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