A Horribly Reasonable Man

            “Everything will be fine, Honey.” Brian slid an arm around his beloved, whom he’d found crying at the small table they used for dining in their apartment.

            “How can you say that? Mother was in tears and had to go to bed with a splitting headache. Grandmother needed an ambulance! What on earth have I done?”

            “You haven’t done anything.” Brian tightened his hold on his favourite girl, hoping his touch could erase the worries of the past couple of hours.

            They’d already had word that Gabrielle Hart was fine. “Resting comfortably” had been the initial report, but Brian had contacts at Sleepyside Hospital, where overriding the patient’s protests, she had been transported. The woman had displayed no sign of any heart problems whatsoever, his friend had assured him. Nothing to worry about. In fact, there were no signs of anything untoward. Brian had a fair idea as to what had caused his future Grand Mother In Law’s sudden attack, but he wasn’t quite ready to say it aloud.

            “But now Mother feels just terrible, and Aunt Yvette has been on the phone, and grandmother is saying this is her last chance to attend a family event, that she won’t be with us much longer and…”

            “Fine,” Brian said, releasing his hold on her shoulders, mainly because Honey was so agitated that she was squirming around. “We’ll do it her way. I want us to get married as soon as possible, but if we have to go to some fancy hotel or the house in the Hamptons or Buckingham Palace, so be it.”           

            “What?!” Honey almost shrieked. “You would hate that! Absolutely hate it!”

            “But at the end of the day, however crazy it ends up being, I will be still be married to you and that works for me.”

            “That’s ridiculous,” Honey spluttered. “One of the most important days of your life and you just want to get through it—like a dental appointment.”

            It wasn’t a bad analogy, even though he loved Honey more than anything and would never deliberately liken a day with her to a trip to the dentist, but seeing the look on his fiancée’s face, Brian thought it might be wiser not to mention that.

            “Have you any idea what it will be like?” she demanded. “Grandmother will insist on a spectacle. And we probably won’t even know two-thirds of the people on the guest list!”

            “So long as you’re on the guest list I refuse to let that bother me.”

            “Your family will feel out of place. Will be made to feel out of place.”

            “My family will be fine,” Brian assured her. “We just need to make sure your family is okay.”

            “How can you be like this?” Honey cried.

            “Like what?” Brian studied her face for a moment, genuinely confused and uncertain of what he was seeing in her wide hazel eyes.

            “So reasonable!” Honey yelled the word as if she were saying selfish or rotten or possibly murderous.

            “You want me to be unreasonable?” Brian asked, beginning to feel just a little that way.

            “I want you to feel something! And not be so calm and collected about all of our plans being destroyed!”

            “Then we’ll stick to our original plan and do what we want,” he said. “We’d both prefer it.”

            “And kill my grandmother in the process?”

            “Fine. We’ll do it her way. Honestly, Honey. It’s not worth getting this upset about.”

            “Marrying me isn’t worth getting upset about?!” Honey glared at him. “You are just impossible, Brian Belden.” She strode to the sofa and picked up her discarded purse. “I need to be alone.” She stalked out and slammed the apartment door behind her.

            “That went well, considering,” Brian said aloud. He knew it had all been going too smoothly. A frown creased his brow as he went back over Honey’s outburst. He was too reasonable? And impossible at the same time.  What on earth? The frown deepened as the unfairness of her words struck home, then he saw her in his mind—distraught, disappointed, being forced to do the very thing she hated, and all he’d done was tell her it didn’t matter. Well, that was just plain stupid because it obviously did.

            Honey realised before she’d even got to the bottom of the apartment stairwell that she didn’t have her car keys. Wonderful, she thought. There was no way she was going back up there to deal with that man. How could he just stand there and be so…calm and logical?

            She stormed down the street glad, she was wearing her practical low-heeled boots. A half-smile crossed her face. Of course Brian was calm and logical and most of the time she loved that about him, but today…if she were honest, she’d admit that she’d wanted him to unleash his famous stubborn, independent streak—the one that would say to hell with them all. He wasn’t going to be a part of some show piece wedding.  But, instead, he was doing his best to be accommodating.

            Still, he didn’t have to take it all in his stride. He could jump up and down and yell a little, couldn’t he? Another smile played at the corner of her mouth at the image of Brian jumping up and down, waving his arms and yelling. Forcing a frown back onto her face—she was mad at him, damn it—she slackened her pace, wondering what to do next. At least she had money with her. She needed a coffee and food that would not be on any bride-to-be’s list of appropriate choices.

            Fortunately for her, the area’s recent expansion meant there were not only more homes in the streets surrounding her apartment block, but more businesses, including cafes and diners.  Knowing that one such establishment with a delicious and decidedly un-nutritious menu was around the next corner, she headed for it, determined to order whatever she pleased when she got there.

            The diner wasn’t busy, and she slipped into a booth and snatched up a menu.  Smiling brightly at the young waitress who appeared at her table, she ordered coffee with cream, a double cheeseburger with its included side of fries, an extra order of onion rings—and a big slice of lemon meringue pie for dessert. It didn’t take long for her substantial order to arrive, and she took a big bite out of her burger, hoping it would distract her from her current problems.

            “I’d say get me one of those, but I know where it would end up, so I’ll just ask if I can join you?”

            Honey looked up into the beautiful smiling face of Diana Lynch-Belden.

            “Oh, Di,” she cried. “It is good to see you.”

            “You, too,” Diana returned, sinking into the seat opposite her friend. “I was visiting a new client and walked past and saw you and…”

            “And what?” Honey lifted her chin. “Is that censure I see in those eyes, Diana?”

            Di laughed at Honey’s attempt to sound belligerent. “More like envy. You know as well as I do that you can still eat that stuff and get away with it.”

            Honey snorted, a very inelegant, un-Honey-like snort. “You are the most beautiful woman in the whole of the Sleepyside and White Plains area combined, so don’t even go there.”

            “Mm,” Diana said with a Mona Lisa smile. “I might just have a slice of that cheesecake I saw on my way in. A small one. And while I’m eating it you can tell me what’s up.”

            The waitress appeared just then, and Di made good on her promise, ordering the smallest slice of cheesecake the diner had and a cup of coffee.

            “What makes you think something’s up?” Honey assumed an innocent air after the waitress left.

            “Let me see,” Diana said, and began ticking off her fingers as she spoke. “In spite of the menu choices here, it’s not somewhere you frequent. While you do enjoy a burger, fries and all these other tasty treats, you don’t usually eat them all at the same time—at four in the afternoon, no less. You were going to call this afternoon to see where I was with arrangements and…” Here Di paused, knowing a hospitalized family member was not to be treated lightly. She continued, a little more softly, “Moms was talking to Mart and she told him that your grandmother had been taken to the hospital. She did say everything was fine, though.”

            Honey, in the face of her friend’s logic, slumped in her seat. “Grandmother has been transferred home, and according to Brian’s friend at the hospital she’s okay, but…”

            “But…?” Diana prompted.

            “She only went to the hospital because she got so upset about the wedding plans. She was horrified, Di. She got all worked up and then started clutching her chest and complaining of pain and…”

            “But she’s home now and Brian’s friend says she is okay?”

            “Yes.”

            “But it’s upset you?”

            “She said she wouldn’t even come to such a carelessly thrown together thing. She called our wedding “a thing”! And she wanted to know if there was a reason for the indecent haste.” Honey’s face clouded further.

            “Did you tell her that the reason was you and Brian have been in love forever, so from your point of view it’s not in the least bit hasty?”

            “That would have been an excellent response!” Honey said. “Why didn’t I think of that? I can be verbally astute.” 

            “I imagine you were thrown by her…reaction.” Di had been about to say attack, which was a very apt description, but thought better of it.

            “Me and mother both.” Honey looked miserable.

            “Well that’s understandable. So, have you talked to Brian?”

            Honey sat up straight. “Yes. Yes, I have, and you would not believe how he reacted!”

            Try me, thought Diana, suppressing the smile that sprung to her lips. Instead, she leaned forward and took one of Honey’s hands in hers.

            “Tell me about it.”

            “He was so blasé,” Honey said. “That’s fine, dear.” Honey mimicked Brian’s deep voice, and it was all Di could do to further hide her grin.  Especially as Honey continued, “We can do whatever, Honey.”  Honey ended her impersonation and looked at Di with large, imploring hazel eyes. “Can you believe it?”

            “Just about,” Diana admitted.  She imagined that Brian might have used slightly different words, but supposed his meaning was pretty close to what Honey was outlining.

            “All of our beautiful plans, and he just stood there saying, we can go to the Hamptons and have three hundred guests and—”

            “Brian said yes to three hundred guests?”

            “To the possibility of them. He said he didn’t care where we get married or how we get married or who’s there or what we wear, so long as at the end of the day, we’re husband and wife.”

            “He did?” Diana’s dark brows lifted in mock outrage. “The cad.”

            Honey laughed in spite of herself. “Funny. You’re supposed to be one of my best friends.”

            “I’ll try and do better,” the other woman promised. “But in the meantime, are you here stuffing your face in a convincing imitation of my husband because of your grandmother’s reaction or Brian’s?”

            “Both?” Honey paused as she reflected as to why she suddenly needed to fuel herself with grease and carbs—comfort food . She grabbed a fry and dipped it in the mayo she favoured over ketchup. She couldn’t help but grin that her proper grandmother would be horrified at both choices—and the fries themselves. “I guess I expected him to be as upset as I am.”

            “What makes you think he isn’t?” Di demanded.

            “Weren’t you listening? Everything’s fine, whatever is fine, the Royal yacht is fine.”

            “The Royal yacht?” Diana’s lips twitched.

            “Wouldn’t surprise me.”

            “So, let me see if I’ve got this straight. Your grandmother lost it when she found out about your lovely, simple plans, had some sort of an episode—which can’t have been serious, from what you’ve told me, and Brian, when informed, reassured you that all he really cares about is becoming your husband?”

            “No! Well, yes, but when you put it like that…”

            Diana smiled at her friend and nodded her thanks to the waitress that delivered her coffee and cake.

            “I guess I wanted him to get angry and say, ‘We’re sticking to our plans and that’s that!’”

            “And he didn’t?”

            “He didn’t get angry. He did say when I was going on about how awful it would be if we did it grandmother’s way that we should just do what we wanted, but he was so calm and reasonable about it.”

            “No!”

            “Stop it!” Honey laughed again, despite herself.

            “Look, Honey, you and I both know that Belden men have their…complicated sides. And each and every member of that family has cracks in their oh-so wonderful veneer. Brian adores you and Brian, by nature, is calm and logical.” It was something she valued in her brother-in-law. The two were far closer than they had been as teenagers, and Brian had been a great support during her pregnancy in particular, when Mart was behaving as if she were made of crystal, his fussing driving her almost crazy. Brian had provided information, statistics, advice, and a healthy dose of common sense, and she absolutely loved him for it. And she knew that in her own, much more romantic way, Honey did too.

“He’s also stubborn and independent and just a tiny bit overbearing,” she continued, “but those traits, as I recall, came between you once before, and he doesn’t want that to happen again.”

            “Oh, that’s right,” Honey said sarcastically, hating to be reminded. “Throw that in my face.” She thoughtfully and defiantly nibbled on an onion ring.  Finally, she sighed as Diana’s not so subtle analysis of the situation elicited an epiphany of sorts. “I guess I was being unreasonable enough for both of us. I stormed out, and then realised I didn’t have my car keys, so I came here.”

            “Sounds reasonable, sorry, I mean…understandable.” Diana, her mission accomplished, finally slid her fork through her cake and allowed herself a moment to relish her first bite.  “Honey, did you ask Brian how he felt about it all? Really felt? Not what he wanted to do or how he thought you should handle it, but how it made him feel?”

            “Not exactly.”

            “And did you tell him how you felt and what you wanted to do?”

            Honey wriggled in her seat, wrinkled her nose and shrugged her slender shoulders. “Not exactly.”

            “Maybe that would be a good place to start.”

            “Fine. Be that way.”

            “What way?”

            “Smart, helpful, dispenser of great advice.” Honey smiled affectionately at her friend. “Now, enough about me and my wedding woes—tell me about your day. You said you were visiting a new client. How did it go?”

            “It’s a house I’ve been in before. That sort of French shabby chic meets cape Cod look.”

            “Oh, I love that look,” Honey said. “That’s what I’d like when Brian and I get our own place—not that that’s looking very likely at the moment…sorry, go on.”

“Well, Mrs. Havers does not share your love. She’s just recently bought the place and wants to make some changes—get rid of that whole ‘dirty wood feel’ as she says.”

Honey made a face.

“She wants to replace the walnut hardwood floors in her family room with marble everywhere, wants gold plated mirrors—filigree, that sort of thing, and some little gold statues—cupids, angels, swans. Oh! And a sound system hooked up so that the birds twitter and the cupids coo.”

            “And I thought I’d had a bad day.” Honey rolled her eyes and shuddered.

            Diana nodded. “It’s a yellow frame cottage that’s had substantial extensions. The family room is sort of like a conservatory, and I tried subtly to suggest something a little less…”

            “Real Housewives,” Honey supplied helpfully,

 “More or less,” Diana laughed. “But she’s hosting her grandson’s first birthday and…”

            “She wants those things for a child’s birthday party?”

            “It makes my head ache just thinking about it. You should see her menu. Pate and caviar, Russian, of course, quail eggs and…”

            “Oh,” Honey cried, interrupting her mid-sentence. “I have the perfect solution.”

            “I turn down the job?” Diana grinned. “Take the job and cover my eyes the entire time?”

            “Send her to my grandmother,” Honey returned. “It’s a match made in heaven.”           

             

            Heading back to the apartment she shared with Brian, Honey knew that she’d done her grandmother a disservice with her suggestion. After all, Gabrielle Hart might have expensive taste, but it was still good taste.  There were any number of places where Diana’s client might have fulfilled her dream, but why did people want to change the inherent nature or character of something beautiful?

            It was an interesting question and maybe more relevant than she first realised. Wasn’t that what she was trying to do with Brian? Trying to change the inherent character of something beautiful. The thought made her smile. It had done her a world of good to talk to Diana.

            She hurried along the street, imagining a yellow frame house that she and Brian could make into a home. There would be no marble, nice as it was.  She appreciated the marble in the Manor House, after all, but it reminded her of the life she’d lived before Sleepyside—the trappings of wealth and the divide it had created between her and her parents. When she made a long-term home of her own, she wanted it to be more like Crabapple Farm—cosy, comfortable—full of laughter and books and light.

             It would take some time though. She had some savings of her own, but with the cost of medical school so high, she knew Brian didn’t have much, and for all that he was a reformed independent, there was no way he’d live in a house he didn’t at least part pay for. They would wait and it would be worth it.

            Lucky for her, when she arrived home, the door to the apartment complex was ajar. She pushed aside the memory of a time, not so long ago, when that was a sinister sign, and knowing it was now her safe haven, she flew up the stairs. She had to knock on the door, and it took what felt like to her a long time for Brian to answer. When he opened it, he looked down at her, and she opened her mouth to apologise.

            “Before you start,” he said. “I have a thing or two to say to you.”

            “You do?” she said, catching sight of and recognising the set of his jaw.

            “Yes.” He walked away from the door, and she followed him into the apartment, closing the door behind her.

            “If you want the truth, and from that whole performance earlier I’m guessing you do, then you can have it.”  He spun around to face her, and those dark eyes, so often full of tenderness and humour were narrowed.

            “I hate the idea of having people we don’t know at our wedding. I hate the idea of being paraded around and wearing clothes that cost more money than it takes to run a free clinic. I hate that we’re expected to put on a dog-and-pony show to impress people I could not care less about. And I hate that we Beldens are not considered good enough for any of it!”

            “That’s not true!” Honey protested, the last statement cutting her to the quick. “No one said that. No one would ever get away with saying that!” Of course, her grandmother had made reference to the differences in the two families’ positions, but no person in their right mind would pay any attention to that.

            “Well, I guess that’s something then. Look, Honey, you know what I want. I thought you wanted it, too.”

            “I do. I want it more than anything.”

            “Then I don’t get it.” His expression softened. “You do know there is nothing medically wrong with your grandmother, don’t you? At least nothing that our plans are responsible for.”

            “I have managed to work that out.”

            “And you know that just because I don’t always show them, it doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings about stuff.”

            “I do know that, too.” Honey crossed the room to stand before him, reaching up to plant a kiss on his nose.

            “So, what are we going to do?”

            “I’m going to call my mother and tell her we’re sticking to our original plan, and then I’ll call my grandmother and explain that I would love for her to be there, but if she can’t I’ll understand.”

            “Sounds reasonable to me.”

            “Good to know.” Honey kissed his nose again.

            “You’re not going to get me with your wily feminine ways,” Brian stated.

            “But isn’t that how I got you in the first place?” she asked, moving her head and kissing the tip of one ear.

            “It might have played a part,” he admitted. “A small part.”

            “So, am I forgiven?”

            Brian shrugged. “You might have to do a little something to make it all up to me.”

            “Really?” Honey whispered. “What did you have in mind?”

            Brian slid an arm around her. “There might be outfits.”

            Honey giggled. “I do like clothes.”

            Brian slid a hand inside her blouse. “Don’t like them too much, you won’t be wearing them long.”

            It was a repeat of their previous meeting, although the china and the refreshments were different. It was two days later, and Honey sat in the morning room with her mother and grandmother and confidently poured tea into gold-rimmed china cups.

            “Well, having summoned me here, I trust that you don’t intend haranguing me for having a very natural reaction to your plans.”

            “An invitation, mother, not a summons,” Madeleine Wheeler corrected gently.

            “We do wish that my wedding plans don’t meet with your approval, Grandmother,” Honey added, “but they are my wedding plans. And, of course, we are delighted that it was just a scare and nothing serious when you were here on your last visit.”

Gabrielle Hart stiffened at this. “I was in terrible pain,” she said coolly.

“Yes, that must have been horrid for you,” Honey returned. “So, we’re even more relieved to know that it wasn’t anything serious. Brian said the doctor indicated that perhaps it was heartburn? Had you had something rich for dinner the night before?”

Madeleine did her best to hide her face behind the napkin she had drawn to her mouth. Honey really was glad that her grandmother had not actually been ill or in any danger, but she was also determined that the older woman know they could not be manipulated anymore.

“Isn’t that unethical?” Gabrielle demanded. “Surely your Brian should not have been prying into my private medical affairs?”

“Why, Grandmother. I begged him to. Obviously, we were very worried. And we weren’t given any private details, not really. Just assured that there was nothing to be concerned about. Brian would never do anything unethical, but you are family.”

Was it her imagination, Madeleine wondered, or did her mother’s expression soften, just a little?

            “Well, if you’re just getting married here, at least I won’t have to buy a new gown. Or do I need to purchase dungarees for the occasion?” The hardness was back.

            “Of course not,” Madeleine said, unable to keep a touch of indignation from her voice. Even as she said it though, she savoured the memory of thirteen-year-old Honey in her first pair of dungarees. “The dress will be semi-formal.”

            “That’s a relief. At least I’ll have something I can wear.”

            “I was hoping you’d buy one of your divine suits, Grandmother,” Honey said with a little frown. “You always look so elegant in them, but if you don’t want to…”

            There was silence for a moment and then the elderly woman shrugged her shoulders. “I suppose that might be appropriate.”

            “We can include you in the planning, so you know our colour scheme, too, if you wish.”

            Madeleine saw again the slight softening of her mother’s stern expression. Honey couldn’t help herself; her natural tact and desire to keep people happy would always find its way into a situation.

            “Is that going to be as unconventional as everything else?”

            “Cream with gold, sage green and coffee accents,” Honey said.

            “Well, that doesn’t sound too outrageous,” the older woman conceded.

            “Is there anything else I need to know about? Any quaint country custom you’re employing that is likely to unsettle an old woman?”

            Honey smiled. “I should probably mention that hunter’s stew is one of the things on the menu at the wedding breakfast?”

            Gabrielle’s finely shaped brows shot up. “What on earth is that? Don’t tell me we have to catch part of our dinner ourselves?”

            Both Honey and Madeleine laughed. The door opened and the maid entered.

            “I’ll tell you about it over our sandwiches, Grandmother.” Honey’s hazel eyes twinkled. “Don’t worry, you won’t need to bring a weapon for your supper.”

THE MANOR HOUSE LIBRARY                                                                                                                                               NEXT


Word Count: 4200                   

Author's Notes: My friend of the heart-editor, Dana always finds ways to improve my stories as well as eliminate many of my errors. Those that remain are all down to me. This story is heavy on the smush. Honey would not allow a mystery to interfere with her wedding and I hope readers can forgive us both.