"Are you sure I can swing by..."
"And hold my hand? No." She shook her head, belatedly realizing he could not see her. "We discussed the menu and came to some agreement. By the way, I'm paying for my dress."
"I can..."
"I need to do this and I have to go. I'm running late."
"I'll see you later."
"Yes. Goodbye."
"Catherine?"
"Yes?"
There was a pause and she waited.
"Nothing. Don't prepare anything, I'll bring some food. How does Italian sound?"
"Wonderful. See you later."
She hung up just as Irene came over.
"I can drop you where you need to go." She was a little breathless from her hurried pace.
"That's not necessary. I was about to call..." She stopped when the woman placed a hand on her arm.
"Please. I need to talk to you."
Catherine hesitated briefly before nodding.
With a sigh of relief, Irene lifted a hand that had the valet running towards them.
"Please bring my car around."
"My mother is not pleased by your decisions about the wedding." Irene began.
"That's her problem." Catherine lifted her chin. "Are you here to champion her cause?"
"Absolutely not." Irene paused as the car stopped and the valet alighted and handed her the fob.
"Please." Irene gestured to the passenger side of the gleaming BMW.
Waiting until Catherine secured her seatbelt, she turned out of the lot. She had made her escape when her mother was cornered by Sylvia, the owner of the restaurant.
"I got married the first time when I was in my early twenties." Irene began as she negotiated the flow of traffic. "He was young and bright and had a very good future at the company. He was willing and eager to be molded by my father. My parents approved of him." She touched the left indicator. "He was also from an excellent family. He was on his way up, of course. They paid for the wedding, very lavish, hundreds of friends and acquaintances. Lavishly expensive."
"We honeymooned in Paris for two weeks and came back to live at the manor. That was the condition. I knew we would not last long there, but William, which was his name, would not hear of us getting a place of our own." She slid a glance at the silent woman. "It took less than three weeks for my father to corrupt him. He started cheating on me and made it plain that I had to accept it as a way of life. I put up with it for two years before I demanded a divorce. It was granted and I waited three years before I decided to choose my own partner."
"He was an actor and I thought being a rebel would be a punishment to my parents. His name was Harry and he started abusing me. He did drugs and brought women to our place. He was fickle and shallow and had married me with the hopes of using my family to get ahead in his career. When my parents refused to bankroll his film, he left me."
She turned into the parking lot of the school and switched the engine off, her face taut with memories of the past.
"The third husband was chosen by my father, and he turned out to be even worse than the other two." She shrugged and turned around to look at Catherine. "We grew up, Dean and I, we both grew up in a household that was not conducive to happiness. He chose to flagrantly embrace the lifestyle of our parents, and I, well, I chose the opposite. I thought I could make a difference by getting married and trying to live a respectable life."
"But instead you chose men just like your father," Catherine declared quietly, seeing the picture of the childhood they had had. Two children growing up without love and under the influence of parents who did not give a damn about what their actions would do to the children they had created. It made her sick to her stomach.
Irene nodded, her expression haunted. "I craved his approval in so many ways. Growing up, I thought I was his princess. I entertained the idea that I looked like him, so he favored me." She smiled grimly. "Dean got the looks from our mother, and he thought she was an angel. She could do nothing wrong. I warned him that our lives were not perfect and that one day he would come to realize it."