Alicekai'd 1.32: Toast

 

     The filming for Twilight Werewolves is finally over, as is the court battle with Mark over Carlie. I don't fight him because his requests are reasonable. He said he wants every other weekend and occasional holidays to be determined between the two of us later albeit fairly. That makes perfect sense to me. In a way, I'm happy he wants to spend time with her, even if I secretly wish Geoffrey were actually her father.

 

     Mark getting his paternal rights only makes the time I have with her even more precious. I still have my nasty case of writer's block, but as I get almost a thousand simoleans a day from my book sales, I'm not too worried. Instead, I spend my time with my daughter.

     She's sitting up now, and I'd never before considered how freeing that would be. She no longer reaches for toys then screams when she can't get them. No, she's determined to do it on her own now, scooting along the floor. I'm a little less needed, but I also love her desire for independence.

     Before I know it, she'll be crawling, and then we'll really have our hands full.

     We. The idea is wonderful. Geoffrey and Bruno are almost constant fixtures in this house, at least during the day. Bruno's school bus now drops him off HERE instead of the Landgraab house. I need to buy him a bed so that he's not always napping on the sofa. School wears him out.

     Before I know it, the day of the engagement party arrives. Geoff and I are officially announcing it to the world.

     HE shows up, my future step-son, Malcolm. Geoffrey looks surprised to see him and tells him so to which Malcolm replies that he's here to support his only living parent. What a backhanded way of reminding his father of Nancy once again. Evil trait. Definitely.

     We don't hire a caterer. Instead, I cook the cake and huge turkey. Geoff hires a bartender, though.

 

     As I'm cooking, I turn and look at our guests, and I realize I need to make more gal friends. I don't really NEED to, I guess, but it's strange how only one guest is actually mine, Yui.

     Mitchell Kalani gets Malcolm's attention. "So, Malcolm, what do you think of your father getting married again?"

     I swallow a gasp. He has no idea the bag of worms he just unleashed.

     Malcolm turns to Mitchell. "I believe my father is wise enough to make his own decisions." Yes, it SOUNDS like he supports him, but I'm sure my fiance also caught the 'but he's not made the wise decision YET' undertone.

     "A very diplomatic answer," Mitchell replies. He tactfully decides not to press it.

     Geoffrey clears his throat rather loudly. "I'd like to propose a toast."

     "To Alice, and to my very good fortune to not only find her but manage to convince her to marry me." There are a couple of chuckles at his expression. His friends are all really happy to see him happy.

     I just stand here and blush. I haven't had a chance to get a drink because I've been baking and cooking this whole time.

     "TO ALICE!" everyone exclaims. I'm speechless.

     Malcolm leaves his glass sitting on the bar.

     Whatever. I'm madly in love with his wonderful father.

     I walk around the bar to kiss him on the cheek, but that's when Malcolm decides to open his mean mouth.

     "I guess even Dad deserves a trophy bride. At his age, he's going to need SOMEone to keep his bed warm at night. Cheers!" He holds up his glass in a mock toast and drinks some of it.

     Everyone, even the bartender, stops what they're doing and stares at Malcolm, shocked by his rude, uncouth, crass 'toast.'

     Geoffrey decides not to acknowledge his son's mock toast and pointedly continues the party anyway, giving everyone the cue to 'ignore the village idiot.' That's very mature of him. I, however, will not let this go, but I'll do what I can not to cause a scene. I take the empty bar stool next to him.

     "You're going to have to learn to live with it, Malcolm. Geoffrey and I are in love."

     His lips quirk suspiciously. "Oh, sure. I don't doubt it. Dad wants to spend his nights with some pretty, young thing. I wonder how long you'll last? I'd be surprised if you make it ten years. After all, you're eventually going to start looking old." He stresses the 'old' with a smirk.

     Out of the corner of my eye, I see the bartender snort and shake his head, not that impressed with the groom-to-be's absurd son.

     The guy's smarter than I am. At least HE kept his mouth shut about Malcolm's rude comment. I've got to learn not to be so easily baited.

     "You know, I really have no idea what I thought I'd accomplish by coming over here to talk to you. You are beyond hope and so not worth any more of my time."

     The bartender smiles quietly as I get my drink and get up.

     The rest of the party goes pretty well. Geoffrey's sure to frequently hold my hand, and I have to wonder if it's in an effort to keep me from talking to Malcolm again.

     Malcolm, who'd noticed the bartender's reaction, spends the rest of the evening trying to insult the man, trying to get under his skin. The guy brilliantly rebuffs everything, even smiling just because he knows it's making Malcolm red in the face. Malcolm eventually storms out. I want to hug the bartender. I don't, but I'm sure to smile my thanks.