Chapter 13 Meet the Family
When I arrived home Thursday evening after my lunch with Michael, Michelle was anxious to hear how it went.
"I think you've been deceiving me, love," I began. "Your brother is nothing like you described him. We had a delightful lunch and got along very well. He congratulated me on our engagement and assured me he would be at the wedding with his wife and your son. On top of that, he will call your mother and insist she attend as well. So ... now what do you have to say?" I said with a questioning look.
Michelle was dumbstruck by my synopsis. She looked at me as if she didn't believe what I was telling her.
"Are you serious? Michael was nice ... and polite ... and friendly?"
"Absolutely! You obviously don't know your brother as well as you think you do. Maybe you should give him a call before he calls you. I suggested you and your family didn't communicate very frequently and he agreed."
"Where is he staying?"
"At the Hyatt. Call him," I suggested a little more firmly.
She did. Dinner was late that evening. They were on the phone for over an hour. When she finally hung up, she came over to me, her eyes red and tear tracks on her cheeks. She plopped herself in my lap and planted a most loving kiss on me.
"You are amazing," she whispered when the lip-lock finished. "Michael barely tolerated David. But you ... he thinks you're just the right guy for me. Good thing we agree, huh?"
"I never had a moment's doubt," I lied.
Friday came and went and we might have had the weekend to ourselves but at the last minute I decided to see if I could contact Michelle's mother. A pre-emptive strike as it were. Bad idea.
"What do you want, Mr. McLeod? Are you looking for my approval of this ridiculous marriage? Well ... that's not going to happen. You two barely know each other and I doubt you are the kind of person that is capable of giving my daughter the lifestyle she is accustomed to. My son seems to think you are a good choice but I can hardly see why. You don't come from a prominent family and you aren't from this part of the country. As far as I'm concerned, she's about to make another predictable mistake."
"Well, I'm sorry you feel that way about me, Mrs. Catchpole. Just the same, I hope for Michelle's sake that you will attend the wedding. I know she and Michael and Martin would want you there."
"I very much doubt I will attend. I'm very annoyed with my daughter. She has never even presented you to me for my approval."
"That's probably my fault, Mrs. Catchpole. I should have insisted that I meet you before ... and I didn't."
"It was my daughter's responsibility, not yours," she snapped. "There are social rules about these sorts of things and Michelle has yet to learn to respect them."
I could hear the "Oxbridge" accent clearly as her forcefulness increased. She was back living in the "old country" and playing by a set of norms that didn't exist here in Canada.
"Well ... I'll leave it to your best judgement about attending. I hope for Michelle's sake that you choose to come. Thank you for listening to me," I finished. The next sound was the click of her hanging up the telephone.
I walked back to the living room and flopped in the chair I had become accustomed to as "mine."
There was a slight smile on Michelle's face as she saw my frown and wrinkled brow.
"You can't win them all, Dex."
"No ... I guess not. I had hoped that Michael would have convinced her but it doesn't sound like it. You don't seem too broken-hearted about it."
"I'm not. She can be a real ... witch ... when she wants to be. You must meet my father. You'll understand quickly enough why they couldn't co-exist. In fact, if you'd like to, why don't we drive down to Amherstburg this weekend. I'm sure they'll put us up in Dad's home on Lake Erie."
"Okay, I'd like that. But don't you think we should call first to let him know we're coming?"
"Yes ... I'll look after that. You will love him, I know it. I should have done this sooner."
Her phone call was brief and she returned to the living room with a big smile.
"He's delighted we're coming and can't wait to meet you. We can have a nice afternoon and Sunday morning with them."
"Great," I smiled.
"It's about a three-and-a-half-hour drive, so we'll need to get an early start," she warned.
"It looks like we'll have nice weather, so we can enjoy ourselves. I haven't been out of the city since I arrived months ago. I'm looking forward to the drive."
"Good. I know you'll like Dad. He's such a down-to-earth kind of guy."
With some guidance from Michelle, we arrived at her father's home just before noon. We hadn't been in any rush and the weekend traffic was light on the 401. The house was more of a cottage that had been updated and expanded, but it was right on the beach and had an unrestricted view to the south.
As we pulled into the narrow crushed rock driveway, the front door opened and two people appeared. The man, I assumed William, was lean and angular looking, with a full head of grey hair and wearing a t-shirt and jeans. The woman was somewhat younger I thought, and definitely more rounded. Both of them wore big smiles as we climbed out of the car.
"Hello!" William called as he approached. "How are you Michelle?" He was wearing a mile-wide smile as he wrapped his arms around his daughter.
"You must be Dex," he said, releasing Michelle and extending his hand, still showing his big smile.
"I am. Nice to meet you, sir."
"Oh, please, it's Billy to my friends and several of my enemies," he laughed.
He turned toward the woman and took her hand.