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“Gee, Mom, do we really have to go to all this trouble for him? I can’t remember you ever using these plates before.”

“I haven’t in twenty years,” she admitted sheepishly. “Your father wants me to. He thinks Harry is used to only the finest, and he doesn’t want him to think we don’t have nice things.” It gave Victoria a sudden urge to turn Thanksgiving into a backyard barbecue and use paper plates. It seemed so pretentious to go to such lengths for a twenty-seven-year-old kid, who was about to be family after all. But her parents were showing off. Harry would probably have been just as happy with their everyday plates, which he had seen before, and were perfectly fine. It turned their holiday into a much bigger deal than it usually was.

Gracie came home at midnight and raved about how adorable Harry’s sister was, and what a good time she’d had with them, although she’d met her before. But they were going to be sisters-in-law now. His sister supposedly had a nice husband and two children. And Victoria missed the days when Gracie talked about something other than the Wilkeses and the wedding. And she still hadn’t accepted the fact that she had to wear the brown dress at the wedding. It was impossible to get Gracie’s feet on the ground these days and talk about anything other than the wedding.

“Maybe you should get a job,” Victoria said sensibly. “It would give you something else to think about till the wedding.”

“I don’t think Harry wants me to,” Gracie said meekly about the job.

“She doesn’t have time,” their mother added. “She has too much to do for the wedding. We still have to order the invitations and pick out everything for her registry in three stores. Harry wants to find an apartment, and she has to help him with that. We’re still waiting for the sketches from Vera Wang, and Oscar de la Renta is also doing some sketches of wedding gowns that would go with the bridesmaid dresses. She hasn’t picked the cake. We have to meet with the caterer, the florist. We need a band. We’re not sure about which church. And then she’ll have to have fittings for the dress, be photographed in it. There will probably be counseling at the church. She doesn’t have time for work. She’ll be busy every day with the wedding.” Victoria was exhausted just listening to the list, and her mother looked it. It had become a full-time preoccupation for both of them, and seemed ridiculous to Victoria. Other people managed to work and get married. But not Gracie.

“This must be costing a fortune,” Victoria commented to her father the next morning while her mother was basting the turkey, wearing a white wool Chanel suit and an apron. They had gotten very fancy. Victoria was wearing gray wool slacks and a white sweater, which seemed like enough for their usual Thanksgiving. They didn’t normally get this dressed up or make as much effort. But a new day had dawned ever since Gracie was engaged to Harry. Victoria thought it was absurd and inappropriate, and didn’t want to join in.

“You’re damn right it’s costing a fortune,” her father confirmed. “But they’re a very important family. I don’t want Gracie to be embarrassed. Don’t expect something like this if you ever get married,” he warned her. “If you find some guy to marry, you’d better elope. We couldn’t do this again.” She felt as though he had slapped her. As usual, she was being informed that Gracie deserved a wedding fit for a princess, but if she ever married, which her father considered unlikely, she’d better plan on eloping, because they weren’t giving her a wedding. How nice. And how clear. Welcome to second-class citizenship, again. The family was going first class, and she had to go steerage. They were always singling her out to be different and “lesser than” everyone else, or a failure. She wondered why they didn’t just put up a sign on the door to her room, “We don’t love you.” Her parents said it every way they could, and for a minute she was sorry she had come home. She could have had Thanksgiving with Harlan and John at her apartment. They were having friends over that day, and she was sure she’d have been more welcome than she was here. She couldn’t have felt less welcome and less loved after what her father had just said. She didn’t mention the wedding again. It was becoming a sore subject with her, even if it was the only thing her sister ever thought of now. And when Harry arrived at noon, it got worse.

Everyone got nervous and started running around. Her father served champagne instead of wine. Her mother was anxious about the turkey. Victoria was helping in the kitchen, and Harry and Gracie went outside and were whispering and giggling, while her parents made fools of themselves. And once they got to the table, her father and Harry talked politics. Harry told them what was wrong with the country and what should be done to fix it, and her father agreed. Every time Gracie started to say something, Harry cut her off, or finished the sentence for her. She had no voice and no opinions, and none were allowed about anything but the wedding. It was no wonder she talked about it all the time, it was the only thing Harry would let her talk about. Victoria had always found him annoying while they were dating, but he was insufferable now and pompous beyond belief. Between Harry and her father, she wanted to scream. Gracie played stupid all the time now, to please Harry, and her mother kept running back and forth to the kitchen. Victoria didn’t have an intelligent conversation with anyone all afternoon. And she finally walked out into the backyard after the meal to get some air. She was horrified by what Gracie was getting herself into. And when she came outside to find Victoria, her older sister looked at her in despair.

“Baby, you’re smarter than this. What are you doing? Harry doesn’t even let you say anything. How can you be happy like this? There’s life after the wedding. You can’t be with a man who runs you over all the time and tells you what to think.”

“He doesn’t do that,” Gracie said, looking upset by what her sister had said. “He’s wonderful to me.”

“I’m sure he is. But he treats you like a doll with no brain.” Gracie looked shocked, and she started to cry as Victoria tried to hug her, and Gracie wouldn’t let her.

“How can you say something like that?”

“Because I love you, and I don’t want you to screw up your life.” It was as blunt and honest as she could be, and she thought it needed to be said.

“I’m not. I love him, and he loves me. And he makes me happy.”

“He’s just like Dad. He doesn’t listen to Mom either. None of us do. We just listen to him. And she goes out and plays bridge. Is that who you want to be when you grow up? You should have a job and something intelligent to do now. You’re a smart girl, Gracie. I know that’s a sin in this family. But in the real world, it’s a good thing.”

“You’re just jealous,” Gracie said angrily. “And you’re mad about the brown dress.” She sounded like a petulant child.

“I’m not mad. I’m disappointed you’re making me wear something that I’ll look awful in. But if it’s important to you, I’ll wear it. I just wish you’d have picked something I’ll look good in too, not just your friends. It’s your wedding, you call the shots. I just don’t want you to give up your brain at the altar and trade it for a wedding ring. I think that would be a very bad trade.”

“I think you’re being a bitch!” Gracie said, and stomped back inside, as Victoria stood outside and wondered how soon she could leave and fly back to New York. The next plane wouldn’t be too soon for her. They were so busy showing off for Harry and trying to impress him that the holiday had been totally destroyed for her. She went back inside and had coffee with the others, and Victoria didn’t say anything. Gracie was sitting on the couch next to Harry, and a few minutes later Victoria went out to the kitchen to help her mother do the dishes. They all had to be washed by hand, they were so delicate. Her father stayed in the living room to talk to Harry. It had been a hard day for Victoria. They felt even more like someone else’s family now. Everyone had a place and a role here except her. Her role was that of misfit and outcast, and it wasn’t one she enjoyed.