Chapter 133 Tough Decisions
“So, basically, you have nothing planned yet,” Sylvia pronounced. “No venue, no guest list. You don’t even know what theme you’re going with, if there is a theme.”
Byron divested himself of Beethoven’s jacket, looking relieved to have it off. Despite the family legacy and Sylvia’s belief in its lucky properties, Emily thought perhaps he would be happier if he didn’t get married in the old jacket. After all, she wouldn’t have liked it if someone tried to force her to get married in her grandmother’s mothball-scented wedding dress!
“I always thought we’d get married on the island,” Byron said. “Where we had our first vacation together.”
Emily hadn’t thought of that before, but she liked the idea.
“Seriously, a remote island in the middle of the Pacific?” Sylvia said. “And you expect hundreds of people to fly there for the wedding and find accommodation?”
“Uh…” Byron was a bit stunned. “Well, I wasn’t expecting to invite hundreds of people.”
Sylvia’s cat settled down on an armchair for a long grooming session, lifting its leg artistically in the air and licking its grey and white fur thoroughly. The cat was probably used to Sylvia haranguing people, and it looked like they were in for a long lecture.
“You’re a public figure,” she began, “How do you think you’ll be perceived if you don’t have a grand wedding?”
“Like I want to keep my private life private?” he suggested.
Sylvia scoffed as she packed up the precious jacket.
“Lots of celebrities have smaller weddings,” Emily chimed in. She wanted to support Byron since he was willing to challenge his mother. “Some even go to Las Vegas and get married by Elvis.”
“That’s all we need,” Sylvia grumbled, “I hope you’re not thinking of running off to one of those Las Vegas monstrosities. Talk about tacky!”
“There goes our plan for an Elvis wedding,” Byron said, winking at Emily.
“That’s okay, considering how Elvis’s own marriage ended up,” Emily said, “it’s probably best not to be married by The King.”
“And you would need to invite your business associates,” Sylvia went on, “adding at least a hundred people to the list, not to mention all your family members.”
“All my family members?” Byron’s eyes widened in surprise. “I didn’t realize I was going to invite them all.”
“Believe me, if people are left out, you’ll never hear the end of it,” Sylvia said, “I didn’t invite a great-aunt from Kentucky I never knew I had to my wedding, and she still hasn’t forgiven me.”
“She sounds like a fun person,” Byron remarked.
“Surely you’d want everyone in your family to be there, Emily?” Sylvia asked.
“I… haven’t given it much thought yet,” she admitted.
“Have you two thought about anything?” Sylvia cried in exasperation.
Emily lifted one finger. “I did think it would be nice if my brother was the MC.”
“Oh yeah,” Byron said, “that would be cool.”
“Cool?” Sylvia mocked. “A seventeen-year-old aspiring rapper as your Master of Ceremonies?”
Emily didn’t want to be in an all-out argument, but she felt she had to say something. “He’s really good. He did one of my fashion shows.”
“But is that the sort of image we want to project?” Sylvia queried.
“Mom, you’re being way too serious about this,” Byron said gently, “It’s not a PR event, it’s a wedding.”
“I’m just concerned that after your run-ins with the media, you might want to keep a close watch on how you’re perceived.”
“I don’t intend to have any media at my wedding,” Byron declared. His lips pressed together into a firm line.
“We can discuss this later,” Emily said, “For now, let’s take some time to think about the jacket and… the other wedding planning ideas.”
The rest of their visit was more enjoyable since they avoided talking about wedding plans. By the time they left, everyone had calmed down a fair bit, but Emily decided she should drive since Byron was looking out of sorts.
“I thought I’d have to fight Sylvia on everything,” she said, starting up the car, “but then you ended up opposing everything she said, or maybe she was opposing everything you said… I don’t even know what happened back there. It was traumatic.”
Byron nodded his agreement.
“Of course, it’s pretty normal for Sylvia to have strong opinions about everything,” Emily said, “But I didn’t know you had such strong opinions about the wedding!”
“I don’t really,” he muttered, “aside from not wanting it to be a big media circus.”
“That’s a point we can both agree on.”
“I don’t want to fight her about this,” Byron said, rubbing at his hair and making it a mess as was his habit when stressed out. “Ultimately, I don’t care that much how we get married, as long as we get married. I’m willing to wear the Beethoven jacket if she really wants me to.”
“But is that what you really want?” Emily asked.
“I don’t know.” Byron sighed. “I never pictured what I’d wear, and I just want my mom to be happy.”
“Then we’ve got a lot of tough decisions to make.” Emily tried to smooth out his hair when they stopped at a red light, but then she ruffled it into an attractive mess since that kind of thing seemed to cheer him up.
