After eating takeout and watching Netflix on the couch, I want Aiden to spend the night, but he has an early meeting the following day so he goes back home to his apartment. He has an important meeting with the shareholders tomorrow morning and has to be in fighting spirits.

The following day, I spend writing, answering emails, trying to get Caroline to leave her room, and deciding what to wear. I don’t want to be too dressed up because then Mom will immediately know what’s up. But at the same time, I can’t very well just show up in a pair of pajamas. Aiden will be picking me up straight from work, so he will be wearing an expensive suit and looking quite dashing like always. What about a pair of skinny jeans and heels and a blazer? Jeans would say it’s a casual evening, but the heels would go well with Aiden’s outfit and not make me look too out of place. Shit, this is exactly what I need Caroline around for. Clothes are her specialty, not mine. But when I knock on her door and ask her for help, she just says she’s tired.

I wash my hair and put on my makeup. I look at myself in the mirror and my heart skips a beat. Tonight, everything is going to become real. My mom will know that I’m engaged. It’s not like the engagement didn’t feel real before this moment, but there’s nothing like those people who are closest to you sharing in your joy. At least, that’s what all the movies say, right?

Okay, okay, calm down, I say to myself. Mom is going to be very excited and somebody has to remain calm in this type of situation. I pull on the skinny jeans and wedges. These are really summer shoes, the old Caroline would point out, but I love that they have the toes covered. My feet always get really cold walking the New York streets in early December. Plus, wedges are much easier to walk in than regular stilettos or even high heels.

My phone lights up. It’s a text from Aiden.

---

I’m downstairs.

---

“Caroline, I’m leaving. See you later,” I yell. I wait for a moment in the hallway as I put on my jacket, but she doesn’t respond.

---

***

“Hey!” I climb into Aiden’s car and give him a kiss on the lips. “Man, it’s cold out there.” ***

“Yeah, I know,” he mumbles and pulls away from the curb.

“You know the address?”

“Nope,” he says.

Something about his one line responses feels odd. We drive for a while without saying a word. This is unusual, but I try not to pay too much attention to it. Not yet, anyway.

“I’m really nervous about your meeting Mom and Mitch,” I say. I want to develop some sort of strategy in how to deal with everything at their house. Maybe even a code. But we don’t have much time. And, from the looks of it, Aiden doesn’t seem to be in the mood.

“Why is that?” he asks.

“Well, you know, it’s not every day that I bring a fiancé over to their house,” I say jokingly. I expect him to flash a knowing smile. Or at least, chuckle a little bit. But instead, I get nothing.

“Are you okay?” I ask after a moment of silence. “Is something wrong?”

“No, not really,” he says with a shrug. Then he leans over and turns up the music.

Annoyed, I shake my head. I give out an audible sigh to get his attention. But it’s all to no avail. I lean over and turn down the music.

“Aiden?”

“What?” he asks, without taking his eyes off the road.

“What’s going on? Do you not want to do this?”

“Of course, I do.”

“So, why do things feel so…off?”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment. “I don’t know.”

I continue to press the situation, but unfortunately I don’t get any further with this line of questioning. We listen to music the rest of the drive over. It is one of the longest forty minutes of my life.

When we finally arrive at Mom and Mitch’s house in Greenwich, Connecticut, I’m regretting the whole night, but it’s too late to go back. Mom will be furious if I were to cancel and I know that she probably went all out for dinner. No matter how much money they have, she rarely caters or hires a chef. Cooking is one of her favorite things to do in the world.

“Aiden, you have to talk to me. We’re going in there to meet my parents. You can’t be so closed off,” I say. “If you don’t want to be here then tell me. I can do this myself.”

“No, let’s just get this over with,” he mumbles as he pulls into the driveway. I shake my head. This is not going to go well, I know it already. But I’m at a loss as to what to do.

Aiden gets out of the car first and waits for me to walk to the door. He doesn’t make one comment about how beautiful the house looks with all the Christmas lights outside. I, on the other hand, find them breathtaking. The house that I grew up in from the age of eleven looks like it belongs in the pages of Connecticut Life or Town and Country magazine. Perfect white lights illuminate and frame the gables, window and the front door. I see my mom standing in the foyer even before we get to the steps.

“Mom!” I yell and wrap my arms around her neck. She gives me a warm hug in return. “It’s so nice to see you.”

Mom is dressed in an elegant short black dress, black tights and stilettos. She is petite with short blonde hair that falls into her face, framing it just so. Her diamond stud earrings shine brightly and her tiny waist is accentuated by the white and red apron wrapped tightly around it.

“You look beautiful,” I say. “As always.”

Mom pulls away from me and looks me up and down. “As do you.”

“Mom, I’d like you to meet Aiden.”

“Yes, of course,” Mom says, extending her hand to him. Aiden is standing slightly behind me and takes a moment to approach her and come into the light. I hate that she is meeting him on such a sour occasion. I hate that he isn’t his usual charming self, but there isn’t much I can do about it.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Rhodes.”

“Oh please, call me Margie,” Mom says, laughing and throwing her head back. “And I haven’t been Mrs. Rhodes for a long time.”

When she closes the door behind us and hangs my coat in the closet, I see Mitch come downstairs. He’s dressed in an elegant suit and his thick dark hair is only now getting a few sprinkles of salt and pepper in it. Even though it has been years, he’s as handsome as he was when Mom married him.

After giving me a warm hug, I introduce Aiden and he and Mitch shake hands.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Aiden. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“All good, I hope,” Aiden jokes. I’m surprised that he says this and hope that perhaps he can fake some pleasantries long enough to get through dinner.

“Yes, of course.”

“The house looks amazing,” I say, looking around at all the expert Christmas decor around their six-bedroom, six bath home with a two-bedroom pool house out back. “It’s like you’re living in a Pottery Barn catalog.”

“Close,” Mitch laughs. “But a tad more expensive. Try West Elm.”

“Oh c’mon,” Mom laughs. “You said you liked how it looked.”

“And I do. But I didn’t enjoy getting the credit card bill for this little project, let me tell you, Ellie,” Mitch says.

I smile and give Mitch a brief squeeze. This is how they have been since they’ve met. They banter and complain about each other and they also love each other to pieces. Never for a moment did I ever doubt that Mom and Mitch belong together, unlike Mom and Dad. I hate to admit it, but my mom and dad were never a good fit. When they argued, they were mean-spirited and when they weren’t fighting, things weren’t much better. Even back then, when I was quite little, I knew that my parents weren’t meant to be together and I made a promise to myself that I would never be in a relationship like that.