Caitlyn Mathison walked into the Galloway mansion, tossed her coat at the doorman, and headed toward the dining room. She gave a brittle smile as all eyes turned to note her entrance. The smile never quite reached her eyes.
Jack Galloway got up from his seat at the head of the table and kissed her on the cheek. "You're late," he commented, with perhaps a note of censure in his voice, as he pulled out her chair for her.
"I'm sorry, we got stuck it traffic. All the people that work in New York heading home to Connecticut, I suppose."
"Funny, Dearest, but when James called from the car he said that you were running late with your manicure and massage and that you had informed him that we could all wait."
Caitlyn could not believe Jack was discussing this in front of guests. It took her a second to recall that James was her driver. She made a mental note to discuss this with Jack later ... and to fire James.
She smiled at the guests and at her future in-laws, in what she hoped was a humble manner, while vowing that someone would pay for her embarrassment.
"Well, you caught me. My cuticles were really dreadful. And, well, my weekly massage is the only thing that keeps me sane."
Her explanation was met with polite smiles and a bowl of thin broth was placed before her. She looked at the prime rib that everyone else was enjoying.
"What's this? I'm famished, and would prefer the main course now."
Jack's mother, Eliza, spoke up. "It's your dinner, dear. We know that you want to take off a few pounds before the wedding, and... well, you are late. Beggars can't be choosers."
Caitlyn looked at her future mother in law, aghast that she would talk to her in such a manner. One thing she had never been was a beggar! She opened her mouth to tell the old bitch that this really was not appropriate when Jack spoke up.
"Don't do it, Caitlyn. I think it's time to discuss the reason for this dinner."
She tried to ignore Jack, but when she went to address Eliza she could not quite remember what she wanted to say. She covered it by addressing her fiancé instead.
"I would think that the reason would be to dine, Jack."
"That's what you get for thinking, Cait. Do less of it in the future. All you need to think is what I want you to think. Of course, you have never concerned yourself with learning what that would be, so it might take you a while to work it out."
Caitlyn's jaw dropped. She was suddenly finding it harder to concentrate.
"The reason for this dinner is to explain to you your future role as a Galloway."
She looked around for help understanding what was going on, but nobody came to her aid. They just stared at her, all with varying expressions that she could not quite read.
"I... I think I know the duties of a wife. Isn't it a little late to be discussing this? It's less than a month before the wedding."
Jack's father, a silver haired man with great dignity, spoke. "We were rather hoping you would figure it out on your own, dear. But you are really just a stupid, self-centered cunt."
The word was like a slap in the face. How dare he? How dare any of them? Caitlyn began to stand up, but seated herself again when Jack ordered her to. Being that nobody would call her weak-willed or mild-mannered, her acquiescence was odd in the face of what had just been said to her. It seemed to her like the room had begun to spin.
"As I was saying," Jack continued, "you have no idea how to be gracious, kind, elegant, or giving. I would say that it is because you were raised with a silver spoon but everyone here knows better. You are just selfish and ungrateful.
"The only time you know hunger is when you are on some silly fad diet. The only time you are cold is was when fashion dictates it. The only time you know fear is when your father threatens to cut off your credit cards. None of that excuses you, though - a lot of people have been born into privilege and still have compassion for others.
"I picked you out for a potential bride the first time I laid eyes on you. You are certainly beautiful; your father is well-respected and has wonderful connections; your mother is known for her philanthropy, and obviously we are from similar backgrounds. It seemed a good match and I had hoped to find some kindness or interests in common. I have come to see that your beauty truly is only skin deep, and is bought at Sephora.
"When I speak of the family's commitment to public service your eyes glaze over. You would not mind all the trappings of being from a rich political family, but you are not cut out for the responsibilities. It is no secret to anyone that you are a more of a liability than an asset. Do you remember how when Princess Diana died people were lining the streets of London, sobbing? I would not count on the same reaction if you died, although perhaps the people at your favorite department stores might hum a chorus of Ding-Dong The Witch Is Dead.
