“David! David!”

“What is it, Amelia?”

“Can you please bring me a towel?”

Amelia could hear the sigh all the way down the hall. “Why do you always forget your towel?” he yelled. She heard the linen closet being yanked open. A moment later, the shower curtain was pulled aside, and David thrust a towel at her.

“Thanks,” Amelia mumbled, wrapping it around her as she stepped out onto the mat.

“How much longer before you’re ready? I’m about to go pick up my family from the airport.”

Amelia tried to keep her expression neutral. “About an hour.”

“Okay. Just try to hurry up. You know my mother hates to be late for anything.”

Amelia could have made a laundry list of the things that David’s mother hated, and she was certain she’d be near the top of it. “I’ll be ready.”

David leaned forward and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “She’ll get used to you I promise. Just try to enjoy the day.”

Amelia sighed as she watched him leave. There had been a time, early in the relationship, when he would have snuck into the shower with her as soon as he’d heard the water running, pressing her up against the cold tile, his arm snaking around her waist, his hand sliding between her thighs. There had been a time when they couldn’t keep their hands off each other.

For weeks, things had been tense. She knew a lot of it had to do with the graduation. David’s whole family was flying in; his mother, father, siblings, grandparents, along with a couple of aunts. As with everything regarding his family, it was a cause for a huge celebration. His family loved to celebrate. Amelia had given him her tickets for the ceremony so that everyone from his side who wanted to could come. She knew full well that no one from her family would be there.

In her childhood home of Hammondville, a Wisconsin town, her mother would be working away in the kitchen. In one of the small rooms upstairs, the one that had once been her mother’s sewing room, her grandmother would be just coming too. Mom would be fixing a breakfast tray for her, another long day of caretaking in prospect. Her father would be working on a construction site somewhere. That had been the daily routine, just before Amelia had left for college, and she knew that nothing would have changed. If she walked through the door this very minute, it would all be just as she had left it.

And everyone would probably be just as bitter as they’d been the day that Amelia had announced she was going to school in Chicago.

Her sister had called her selfish, after all, someone should stay to help their mother, and wasn’t Amelia the oldest? Wasn’t it her responsibility? Her mother had sighed with disappointment, asking why Amelia felt she needed to be better than everyone else. None of her friends’ daughters had gone off to college in a different state. They’d gone to the community college, or a nearby university, and then settled nearby and had families of their own. Those daughters were nurses or teachers or hairdressers, they were doing something for their community, her mother said in the pointed way intended to make Amelia's feel as uncomfortable as possible.

But she hadn’t wanted to be a nurse or a teacher or a hairdresser. She wasn’t sure if she wanted children, that was until she met David, she hadn’t even thought of getting married. She’d left, and no one in her family had so much as called in six years. The first Christmas she’d been gone, Amelia had tried calling, and had left a voice message on various family members’ voicemails, hoping that someone would at least call her back. No one had. She’d spent that Christmas alone in her dorm room, dining on stale cheese sandwiches from the cafeteria vending machine.

The second and third Christmas had been better—she’d gone with a friend to their family’s house. Not her own family granted, but they were happy to have her. By the fourth Christmas, David had appeared on the scene.

She’d walked into her dorm room, and her jaw had nearly hit the floor. David was sitting on the edge of her bed, and Christmas carols were playing softly out of a speaker he’d set up on her desk. He’d strung lights along her side of the room. There was a wrapped box next to the small Christmas tree.

She’d nearly cried as she’d rushed over to him, and he’d pulled her down into his lap. “This is the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done,” she’d whispered, sniffing back tears.

“I’d do anything for you, Amelia,” he’d said, kissing her softly. “You know I’m crazy about you.”

She’d buried her head in his neck, feeling him wrap his arms tightly around her, solid and secure. “I’m falling in love with you,” he said softly.

She could still remember exactly how she’d felt in that moment, certain that she’d finally found the one.

She’d gone home with her friend again that year, since she hadn’t been with David long enough to meet his family, but she’d felt a flicker of hope. Perhaps next year, she would meet David’s family, and they’d be warm and loving, and she would have a place to belong.

She had gone home with David that next Christmas, and the reality was very different to the fantasy version that she had nurtured so lovingly.

Amelia sighed, stepping out of the shower and wrapping the towel around her as she walked to the closet to get the dress David had bought for her. She felt awkward about him spending money on her, as he had it to burn and she didn't. She didn’t want him to think she was only with him for his money. She’d grown up without it, and was fairly certain that she’d always be able to manage just fine without a lot of it. Ironic for someone about to get their economics PhD.

David's position was the opposite of her own as he had a trust fund and a large inheritance with his name on it. The Law degree that he was collecting today was just icing on the cake; he certainly didn't need any of the income it may generate.

She pulled the dress out of the closet. It was a gorgeous knee-length, A-line dress in royal blue. The color set off her beautiful red hair. Her mother, who had strong opinions about everything, had always said redheads should stick with black and navy. Amelia didn’t agree. She slipped into the dress, and rushed the rest of her preparations. One must never keep David's mom waiting.

* * *

She’d had such high hopes. She’d dressed as conservatively as she could, in dark jeans and a soft grey and white cashmere sweater that he’d bought her as a Christmas present. David had warned her that his parents were very conservative, old money, New England— “think the Kennedys,” he’d said. She’d done her best to look the part.

Amelia stood in the doorway of the New York mansion, struggling to take it all in. This was what money that was comfortable with itself looked like. The building itself was a beautiful Colonial that turned out to be just over two hundred years old. A butler had taken their coats and gloves, and Amelia was left staring wide-eyed at the Christmas tree that looked like it belonged in a Disney movie or department store. The polished banisters were wrapped with garlands and ribbon, and the perfect marble floor with its soft reflections completed the fairytale scene.

“Your eyes are going to pop out of your head if you are not careful,” David had teased, and Amelia had relaxed a little. She loved David. He was the most wonderful man she’d ever met. Surely the woman who’d raised him would be just as wonderful.

His mother glided in, dressed in black pants and a silk blouse. Her blonde hair swept up behind her head. She’d worn a set of pearls, and a massive round diamond solitaire had adorned her finger. Amelia had caught a whiff of her perfume as she’d leaned forward to hug David, kissing his cheek.

She’d turned to look at Amelia then, her blue eyes going from the top of Anna’s forehead to the tips of her boots and all the way back up. “So, this is the girl you’ve been talking about, David?” Her tone was icy, instantly distant. “Amelie?” She’d pronounced the name with a French lilt. Of course, David’s mother had known exactly what the correct pronunciation should have been and was just engaging in petty one-upmanship.

“It’s Amelia,” Amelia had said, holding out her hand. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“Barbara,” she said. “But you can call me Mrs. Goldstein.” She’d pursed her lips, looking Amelia up and down once more, and then turned back to her son. “We’re having aperitifs in the parlor, David.” Amelia had looked at David, all the while trying to keep her expression from crumbling.

David had squeezed her hand. “It’s okay,” he’d whispered to her. “She always takes a while to warm up to new people. It isn’t you, I promise.” He’d kissed Amelia on the cheek, one arm wrapping around her waist, his grip strong, warm and secure. Amelia had leaned into him, her worries dissipating. Of course David was right. His mother was just being protective of her son. She would warm up to her in time. Amelia just had to be patient, that was all.

She’d accepted the glass of wine that she’d been handed to her when they were seated on the antique couch in the parlor. Amelia was terrified that she would accidentally spill a drop on the faded pink velvet.

Nothing about that weekend was good. Christmas dinner was a low point, when she saw just how much effort the others at the table had put into dressing up. The jewelry on display on the various family members would have fed a large town for a year. Mrs. Goldstein had glanced at her, raised a withering eyebrow, and then not acknowledged her again.

Amelia had cried herself to sleep that night, curled under the duvet in the king size guest bed, two rooms away from where David was sleeping. She’d hoped that he would sneak down the hall and slide into bed with her, but he didn’t. She now knew that while there were many, many things David would do for her, defying his mother was not one of them.

* * *

Amelia hadn’t missed a single holiday at the Goldstein house since that Christmas, and she could count on one hand the number of things that Mrs. Goldstein had said to her that extended beyond the most routine pleasantry. She felt sure that David had never even mentioned her discomfort to his mother. As their relationship approached the five-year mark, Amelia occasionally found herself wondering how Mrs. Goldstein would react if David proposed to her. She was sure it would be with horror and outrage.

It didn’t seem to matter that Amelia was polite, smart, ambitious, or that she loved Mrs. Goldstein’s son. Amelia had no money, no connections, and a very ordinary family. This, of course, made her totally unsuitable for David.

She ran a brush through her hair one more time, swiped her lipstick over her bottom lip once more, and then slipped on her heels. It was a beautiful May day and she sat out on the balcony of their apartment while she waited for David.

She’d cleaned the apartment until it practically squeaked in anticipation of Mrs. Goldstein's arrival, but she was hardly surprised when David came through the door alone. “They’re waiting in the car downstairs,” he said, knowing that any further explanation was unnecessary.

“Ready to go?” Amelia nodded. She squared her shoulders as they walked out of the door, preparing for the ordeal ahead.