Page 80 of Just for Tonight

“Well, yes, I expect we all do.” I leave that right there and while he looks startled for a moment, he otherwise ignores it.

Instead, he charges on, oblivious to the fact that he’s dug himself a hole and is making it deeper with every sentence he utters. (I also hate people who aren’t perceptive.) “I mean, by this point in life, there’s been time to think about it. Once established financially, it only makes sense to settle down and raise a family, and we both know that growing up on the land is the very best choice for kids.”

“Is it? I liked it myself, but I can’t compare it to anything else.”

“Ha! Word games! Your mom said you were smart. You know what I mean, Mackenzie. We understand each other. We come from similar backgrounds. We’re going to agree on most things, including what’s important.”

“I don’t know about that. In fact, I think that’s a pretty sweeping assumption on your part.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m not sure that I even want to have kids. I’m not convinced I’ll ever marry, not unless I meet the right guy and we work out how to each achieve our goals.”

“What’s there to work out? You’re attracted to each other, you fall in love, you get married. It’s simple.”

“You have to like the same things.”

“Of course, we do! Vineyards. Wine. Grapes. Good food.” He flings out his hands, inviting me to agree. There is a tinge of desperation in his tone, as if he’s finally sensed that this one is slipping away from him.

He’s probably a good guy. He’s probably just trying to do what he was told to do. (There’s another warning, come to think of it.)

“I like discussion,” I say, then turn to buy a mug for Opa. It’s handmade locally, with cobalt blue glaze, and of generous size. It’s a lot like one he broke last winter which he loved because his tea didn’t get cold when he forgot about it.

“What does that mean?” Darcy asks when the transaction is done.

“It means that I like to talk about decisions, debate the various sides of the issue, then come to a mutually satisfactory agreement.”

“I don’t understand.”

I stop in the street to face him. “Then let me sum it up for you. I don’t like people telling me what I want, especially people who don’t know me and have no clue what I actually want. That’s like making decisions on the basis of no information, which can’t be smart.” I smile. “And yet, that’s what you’ve been doing since we met. Guess you’ll have to get busy to find a different bride for that wedding date. It’s already the end of July.”

I pivot then and walk toward my mom’s condo.

“But I don’t have your number, Mackenzie!” he calls after me, proving that he’s not listening.

I just keep on walking.

“When will I see you again?” he shouts.

“Never, if I see you first,” I say under my breath, then pull out my phone. He’s given me an idea. The best way to avoid the Rutherfords is to not be in Victoria at all.

I’ll spend the rest of my BC vacation with Abbie in Vancouver.

And then, I’ll carry on with my life as previously, alone and liking it.

This, alas, is not an objective readily achieved. My mom is not prepared to surrender this battle yet. She and the Rutherfords decide that Darcy and I got off on the wrong foot. No doubt they agree that I am being difficult, possibly because Darcy was less tactful than might have been ideal. There is doubtless discussion about the pressure I face at work etc.

My mother reminds me of my age – gah! – and limited options. In the end, I am persuaded to stay in Victoria for the duration of my planned vacation. Darcy is subdued. His parents are wary. My mother is enthusiastic.

I’m counting down the days to my escape.

And why? Darcy is nice.

Darcy should be a good choice.

But Darcy doesn’t make my heart beat faster.

I’m sure he’d make me mad once in a while – particularly with his assumptions of how our life together should be – but I don’t think he’d listen to my perspective. I feel like I’ll be surrendering so much control and agency, and that refusing to be with him is the only (maybe the last) way I can shape my own life.