SPRING FORWARD - A Bit More Than Expected

ONE

           It was an hour before my enforced bedtime. My mother and future mother in-law had overtaken my house insisting my last single evening be as comfortable as possible—translation. Absolute hell.

           I was to marry the handsome Robert at a lavish spring wedding tomorrow, all sounded wonderful. Like a spring lamb to the slaughter.

           Not everything is as it seems—the mothers were here to ensure I showed up at the church.

            “An early night would be good for you Emelia, you have to be up at the crack of dawn dear, so you can beautify yourself.” My future mother-in-law’s sing-song voice—like nails on a chalk board to me—I gritted my teeth and smiled. I was nothing if not a well brought up young lady.

           “Robert expects the best Emelia. I’m sure that my gift of a full day of spa and beauty treatments, will help.” She studied my face again, grimacing, “but it will take work dear, correct Estelle?” My mother did open her mouth to reply just not quick enough.

           “Robert has always had the best, always.” She snickered.

           “I must say, I was initially surprised when he brought you home to meet Frank and I dear. I thought Charlotte, but, Robert chose you so...”

           Lena McClellan, future mother-in-law from hell, shrugged her shoulders, fluttered her eyes and giggled girlishly at her hurtful quip. She did hurtful exceedingly well, it was her way unfortunately it was also her son’s way.

           How did I get here—how did I get to a place where I was being shooed off to bed like the aforementioned lamb to slaughter the night before marrying a man I detested? Lord I wish—I wish, I wasn’t me.

           The Devlin’s money had always been in the cotton industry—the family wealth considerable, having been carefully gathered and invested over the years by our faithful forefathers. All this began to change when grandfather Walter became head of the household. Walter was not a good business manager—actually he wasn’t a good anything. A notorious womanizer, he was a drunk and a heavy gambler—unfortunately for the Devlin’s, his luck was for shit.

           When my father finally got the reins of the company it was on its last legs. Still on the right side of bankruptcy but only there by goodwill.  He tried everything he knew to turn things around. I remember him, pacing the carpet in his office worrying, worrying—but honestly, he was swimming against the current.

           Then we met the McClellan’s. Frank, Lena and their sons Robert and Samuel—they were the newest members at our local Country Club—a club my father was seriously thinking of dropping, because of our finances.

           The McClellan’s joined with all good intentions, they were fairly new to the area and they wanted the best tennis and golf lessons for their sons. Unknowingly however, they’d bought into a problem—they were new money—and the Country Club members were not. The old school members did what they always did to the ‘dreaded new money interlopers.’ They treated the McClellan’s to their silence and contempt.

           Frank McClellan had paid a hefty sum to join this club, it was supposed to be a step in the right direction. A shrewd business man, Frank had come up the hard way from a hard place and earned a huge fortune—which should have been his family’s passport to anywhere, obviously anywhere did not include the damn Country Club. He was all for leaving the place and taking his business elsewhere, but Lena—determined not to accept defeat, Lena dragged her family to the club for dinner that evening. She would not hear that these people thought themselves better than her family. Like a she-dragon in heat she had her claws out ready for battle.

           As it happened, my family were also at the club that evening. We were in the lounge waiting to be seated for dinner—my parents sat a little apart from Charlotte and I probably discussing the death knolls of the company for the millionth time.

           Finally seated, there were handsome boys sitting to our right with their family and Charlotte, to my utter fifteen-year-old horror, was giggling like the dorky thirteen-year-old she was—I elbowed her— discreetly of course.

           “Char, will you STOP,” I whispered urgently, “they’ll hear you and then I’ll die.” Dramatic much? She didn’t of course—stop I mean—thirteen is that age. Luckily, I didn’t die but it was close.

           The dark-haired boy smiled at me and the other turned to look. I blushed seven shades of scarlet—dying might yet be an option, although, he was very handsome.

           The other boy whispered to his mother who immediately turned her eyes our way. Call me suspicious, but it seemed to me she was looking us over rather carefully which I thought rather odd, to say the least.

           After scoping us out for a few minutes she leaned back and whispered to her husband. She smiled at me, a little creepily I thought in my fifteen-year-old way. I smiled back—as I’d previously mentioned, I’m a well brought up young lady.

           Soon after that, the McClellan parents introduced themselves to my parents and before long everyone was sitting together at an extended table. My parents were always very friendly to everyone—totally unlike the other Country Club members—yet our family money was probably the oldest money in the Country Club.

           My dad and Frank McClellan became firm friends from that day—they still are, two nicer men would be hard to find. They were never a part of the Devlin-McClellan Coalition, as I call it. It was all the mothers.

           My parents introduced their new friends, Frank and Lena to all the right people, which was invaluable to Frank’s business and priceless to Lena’s aspirations. Frank, always an investor,  invested money and expertise into Devlin Industrial Cotton and the business finally started to turn around. It would still take years to make it into what it was, but it was on its way.

* * * * * *

           Five year later, with the two sets of parents still firm friends, Lena began making plans. She wanted Robert to marry well—she wasn’t worried about Samuel at this point, just Robert. Samuel, Robert’s fraternal twin, was difficult. He certainly wasn’t as pliable as Robert, so he could be dealt with later, much later as far as Lena was concerned. He’d spent years aspiring to be a musician—whatever next—spent years practicing guitar in his room or in their garage with his low-life friends. Hangers-on more like.

           Now he was gone, moved out, living rough with those low-life friends. Well, this was the life he wanted, so be it. Samuel was as different to Robert as chalk and cheese; Robert was the A-scholar, Samuel was a sloth with C grades. Robert was a well-kept, sharp dresser, Samuel was a constant mess with long hair and a beard that wouldn’t grow. They were both handsome young men but Samuel did his best to look his worst. Of course, Lena loved them both—of course she did. She was mother to both, but her Robert was so much easier. Surely, Robert was her son and Samuel somehow was Franks.

           Robert MUST marry well, he MUST marry old money. Lena had never forgotten the slight her family had received at the horrible Country Club—both families had since left the club. Frank had bought another club; The Golf and Country Club and both families now attended that club. Secretly Lena loved the fact that Frank owned the club and Henry didn’t—a fact that neither Frank nor Henry could care less about.

           Lena was obsessed with the idea of Robert marrying into an old money family but she didn’t intend to look far for his intended bride—he had two excellent candidates close by—Oh look, the Devlin’s.

           Estelle hadn’t taken much convincing, far from it—she started planning the wedding in her head before she’d spoken to either of them. Lena had also casually mentioned the financial aspect of the marriage—merging the two families would ensure the future of Devlin Industrial Cotton. That would be good enough for Henry surely. She would make sure of it.

* * * * * *

           I was to become the family’s sacrificial goat. Not my prettier sister Charlotte. Me—Robert came to our house that night and looked us over like cattle. When he snickered I didn’t understand, why would I?

           Now I knew, Robert and Charlotte had been having a secret affair for the past two years—Charlotte loved him and was pushing for an engagement ring. He’d gotten her pregnant at one point, she never said a word. She lost it unfortunately, but somehow I doubt the golden boy would have married her even if she’d carried it to term. Or maybe he would. Let’s not forget Lena.

           Robert snickered nastily again, “I can’t marry used goods ladies, you must see that, I must have the best,” he snickered again.

           “I’ve had Charlotte, so it’ll have to be the other.” Did he even know my name?

           I wanted to punch my fist in his mouth as Charlotte broke down and cried. Got to love Robert The Asshole. I wish Lena really knew her precious—must have the best—son. But I wonder if it would have made a difference?

           Back from my sweet remembrances I grabbed my alarm clock. I’d better not forget to set it one hour ahead for daylight savings time.

           Twenty-years-old hopefully, I’ll die in my sleep…

           Jess my Golden Retriever snoring beside me in the bed. He’s such a bed hog and I’m right on the edge. With all his fur he’s so hot—Lord Jess, there’s hardly enough room to roll over. At least he found a safe spot when the mothers descended upon us. I couldn’t begrudge him—deserter—he sensed who was at the door and hid under my bed.

           I wanted Jess for my ring bearer, stupid right? Don’t want to get married yet that was something I wanted. Yeah stupid. Didn’t get what I wanted of course.

           “A dog at the ceremony Emelia? Really.” Yeah, that’s what I thought.

           Suddenly in a wild ‘fuck-em’ moment, I slip off Jess’s collar, rip off the huge-ass engagement ring and slip the collar through the ring. You really can’t see Jess’ collar through all his fur. So, when I clip his collar back on—Bye-bye ring.

           I giggled, then I really let go. Stress I guess. It was nice to have this tiny secret, just a sliver of my control back.

TWO

           It was still dark when my alarm woke me. Jess of course was unmoved—snoring, no surprise there. Sleeping on my back with my arms above my head, I swung my arm and the clock was toast—well ok it was on snooze. Vindicated, I went back to sleep.

           Sleep, had been hard to come by, I got a few hours, maybe three, but I felt so tired like I’d hardly slept at all. As I lay there I started to get this intense indigestion and my lower back started to hurt like a bitch. What?

           I was also really, really hot. “Jess, I’m going have to move you over buddy, you’re like a big fur rug, I’m sweating like a pig here.” I pushed, naturally he didn’t budge.  

           A strange feeling in my stomach, kicking? When I put my hand down to feel—MY PREGNANT STOMACH. Okay I’m hyperventilating, well who wouldn’t? I went to bed several hours ago—dreading my upcoming nuptials—but perfectly, and definitely UN-PREGNANT.

           Now, hours later, how many months along am I. Should I faint? Why not…

           That’s when I tried to sit up… I must be dreaming, MUST BE DREAMING. I pinched my cheek.

           “Owe!”

           “You OK?” Who was that?

           “Emi?” Suddenly, I’m surrounded by arms and I’m buried in a chest—a seemingly very fine chest, might I say that smells really good.

           My ‘moment’ is cut short by a wriggling hot fur rug—as previously described—trying to get in on the action and managing to do so very well.

           “Yeah Jess you can kiss mom but remember the babies. Don’t poke at her with your paws you might hurt her. Okay buddy?”

           Baby(s) as in plural?

           I tried to see the face that belonged to the voice I really did, but Jess’ big furry head and lavish tongue effectively blocked everything out. Did I mention those arms? Yeah those muscular—on closer review, tattooed arms, continued to hold on to me, effectively tying me to the mattress. Phew, if this is a dream, PLEASE keep me here.

           Then I saw him. “Samuel?”

           Sam burst into laughter, “Jeez Emi, nobody’s called me Samuel for years, where did that come from?” I stared up at him.

           Sam, had always been the better looking of the twins—in my opinion anyway. When we were younger he was really cute, now, he was drool worthy, mesmerizing. Truthfully, I had a hard time taking my eyes off of him.

           His dark hair, which used to be long and unkempt was now short and spiked—be still my heart. But it was his eyes that arrested me, oh Lord, his eyes were the bluest blue I’d ever seen. Like the clearest Caribbean water on a cloudless day and surrounding those peepers were long dark lashes any female would kill for. He was the whole package. Yes ma’am.

           Please don’t ask me Robert’s eye color. Yesterday was so long ago.

           “You’re so pale babe, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Sam was out of bed and around my side before I could blink.

           “Let’s get you up Emi, your back must be killing. Hey I can see the babies kicking.” The joy in his voice was infectious as he lifted me easily from the bed.

           “Look at their little feet go, or is it their fists? I hope they’re not hurting you. Hey you two cut it out your hurting Mom.” I couldn’t help but laugh at him, he was all over the place with these kids.

           Then suddenly I was terrified. Suppose these babies weren’t Sam’s, suppose they were Roberts and I’d—I don’t know—run away from Robert and was hiding at Sam’s. Who knew. My mind was whirling with possibilities.

           “Sam!” I didn’t mean to shout. “Shh babe, you’re okay, everything’s gonna be okay.” He was holding me to him. I put my arms around him and held on using his warmth as my comfort.

           “Help me Sam, I feel like Alice falling through the rabbit hole. Last night I went to bed dreading my marriage to Robert and I wasn’t pregnant—what does it all mean?” He held on tight for a long moment. Not what I’d expected.

           “Do you think you could love me Emi?” His face was buried in my neck.

           “Sam?”

           “Please don’t be mad at me Emi, you’re my wife now.” He looked worriedly into my eyes, “I love you more than life, always have.” He sat back and held my face in his hands.

           “I was always different from Robert, we were twins but not, I’m my father’s son, Frank’s boy.” Sam’s eyes lit, which I wondered at…

           “I’d better start from the beginning, yeah?” His fingers brushed my cheek.

           “I always loved you Emi but you hid behind Charlotte. In my eyes you were always the more beautiful but you wouldn’t see it. Robert hurt Charlotte in more ways than one, he always got everything he wanted, sometimes before he even knew he wanted it. My mother ruined him. She loved him very much, you see. I’m not saying she didn’t love me, she did, in her own way, just not as much. Not nearly as much but it didn’t matter because I wasn’t hers to love.” My mouth hung open I’m not going to lie.

           “How did you…?” My rabbit hole was getting deeper and branching off in all directions.

           “I’m my father’s son Emi, Frank was never what he seemed, neither was I.” Sam smiled and held my hands.

           “Look.” Suddenly, in my mind—was it in my mind? Frank was standing in front of me, smiling.

           “My little Emi I hope you’re happy? You look wonderful, I hope you’ll think we did the right thing for you.” He smiled again.

           “Sam and I worked together to throw a spanner in the works, so to speak. I won’t explain the methods but I’ll show you the end results.”

           He flicked his hand and I saw Robert and Charlotte laughing together, holding hands.

           “It’s 2022—we had to advance two years to get everything to work as we wanted it too. Robert is married to Charlotte and you are married to Sam—who by the way is a world-famous rock star with his band EMIS. As you know you’re pregnant with Sam’s twins, our grandchildren.”

           Frank took Emi’s hand. “I can’t stay Emi, I should get back to the club I’m at lunch with Lena and your parents, who by the way can’t wait for their grand babies. I’m astral projecting, I can only be away so long.” Frank faded as he finished speaking.

           I really wasn’t mad. I looked at Sam and my stomach flipped. Love him? Yes definitely.

           “This is a dream, right? It has to be.”

           He smiled and kissed my nose, stroking my pregnant stomach which was definitely real and kicking again. Now that I took the time to notice, there were three Grammy’s on the shelf in the bedroom.

           So, the past was the dream? Something was. Right?

           Jess trotted in from the garden. It was raining and his fur was wet. I saw a flicker, a glint on his neck.

           “Jess, come.” He came thinking treat no doubt.

           On his collar was the ring…