PRECIPICE [h.s.]

Chapter Forty Three

"For Alice, obviously."

"Alice?" Is she passing her headache to me?

"Now it sounds like you're doubting my intelligence which brings us all the way around to questioning your intelligence. Do you think I don't know she spends the night at your apartment? Do you think I don't notice how you spend every function, gala, event clinging to one another as if the room is full of sharks. You love her. Or you're fucking her. Whichever it is, I frankly don't care as long as that ring is on her finger come spring."

"Weren't you the one who told me to stay away from Alice?"

"And what did you do? Run as fast as you could to her."

Even without knowing her motives, I cannot be shocked that she was pulling strings. "This was your plan all along. Were you even worried about trying to get her father's business? Or was that part of your scheme too?"

She curls her fingers in front of her lips, replaying all the steps in her head to herself. "No, that was tricky as well. Mr. Van Baker isn't my biggest fan, but that is not important to this conversation. However, if you get that ring on her finger, and that girl down the aisle, I won't have to worry about their account. They'd be family."

"Mother, she's eighteen. She's still in high school!"

She's done with the scoffing and harrumphing now. She does what she does best, turns to ice and looks down on me even though I'm a few inches taller. She's shown too many cards acting upset with me. That time is over. Now she lays out what she wants with the expectation that I will deliver no matter the task. "I'm well aware of her education status. Honestly, hearing she wasn't going away to college was a blessing because it makes all this much easier. She'll be here, bored out of her mind working for her father. Eventually, you can convince her she doesn't have to work. You could even start working for her father's company. There are so many doors that open once we align ourselves with the Van Bakers."

There it is. The task she was dancing around so elegantly. "You want me to marry this girl for a business decision."

"Yes! Now you're getting it." Sure, mother. Make it seem like it was my idea.

"There is no way-" I can't protest before she cuts me off.

"Before you finish that sentence, and really make me angry on Christmas morning, know this. There are worse wives out there. To what degree you're truly involved with this girl, it doesn't matter. You like her. She adores the ground you walk on. Why? Don't ask me. But she does. That utter bellend has done more for you than you will ever know. If you won't do this for me, do this for her."

Do this for her? There are so many things I could do for Alice, marriage isn't one of them. Her entire life everyone has made choices for her, who am I to take another one from her?

"I am far from the best thing for Alice. She deserves much better."

"Better than you? Maybe, but that's not relevant. You owe more to her than you will ever know. I'm finished with this conversation. I'm not saying propose tonight. Christmas proposals are tacky. But she better have that rock on her finger when she walks across the stage for her graduation. Now get ready. We leave for the Van Bakers' in two hours."

And with her final command, she storms out the door.

Marry Alice? It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. Without my permission, my mind floods with images of us like the perfect couple my mother wants and I immediately know that couldn't be us. If I asked Alice to stay home, cook, and clean she'd roll her eyes, yell at me about the patriarchy, and then do it anyway. I couldn't make her happy, but I could make her comfortable. If we were together, she'd never want for anything. Marrying Alice would be like buying an exotic bird to keep it in a cage. She needs to spread her wings. Her father has clipped them long enough.