The Eye of the Beholder

At least I was able to escape before he called me out on whatever Daniel, or my parents, had been complaining about me to him. Meh. I'd also have some eye candy to look at throughout the ceremony, and it was probably best I had no idea what his personality was really like. In my dreams, he could be someone who didn't associate with my brother or parents. But then again, in my dreams, I could be too.

"That top's a bit tight, isn't it, Dumpy?" Yes, a typical greeting from my mother as I walked into the reception area of the winery. She was standing with Debbie's mother. "Priscilla, you've met Davina, no? She's my younger child and chose not to follow us into business."

"Hi, Mum. How's things?" How's things? How could I ask such an open-ended question?

Mum went into great detail to describe the mistake in the order of service that the printer refused to reprint, how the table linen was cream instead of oyster and that the florist had misjudged the number of roses she would need and there were far too many, and she refused to take any back.

"Now we put you in one of the back cottages, Davina. Figured you could get your steps up. Excuse me?" Mum was signalling to the receptionist to get me a key, no doubt forgetting the young woman's name, despite Barbara being emblazoned across her lapel name badge.

"Thanks, Mum. I'll see you for dinner at seven."

I was regretting coming. I'd always given my family the benefit of the doubt and thought that I could be the bigger person, however being the bigger person, literally, made me the brunt of their jokes. As much as I hated to think about it, my family were horrible, horrible people who enjoyed their feelings of superiority over me because they saw me as being the fat one. If Aunt B hadn't promised me she'd be at the wedding, I would have turned around and gone home. Fuck the consequences.

I had several hours to simply relax at the cottage. I'd already planned on going for a walk before taking a leisurely bath and simply spending time avoiding my family. As I hung my dresses and arranged my other clothes on hangers and in drawers, again I heard my mother's shrill voice.

"No, it is not good enough. The bridal party are all meant to be in the main house in suites, and only minor guests are staying in the cottages. Miss, I need to see your manager."

"Danielle, it's fine, honestly. I'm happy out here. The cottage has a lovely view of the vineyard, and it's not a long walk back to the main house. Please don't make a fuss for me."

"It's not good enough. Well, the rehearsal is at five, followed by drinks, then dinner."

"Thanks, Danielle, and thanks, Barbara. This cottage is honestly perfect for me. I'm going to have a rest."

"Yes, well, Scott, Debbie is looking forward to you meeting Christine and thinks the two of you will hit it off, so you might end up in a suite after all!"

Great, so now my neighbour was the best man. Well at least he might hook up with Christine who doesn't look great in mauve, and I would be left out here with the second-rate accommodation. Slipping on my runners I headed out for a walk, making sure I would not pass Scott's cottage.

The vines were sprouting new growth on the sunny spring afternoon. Someone was tending to one stretch of them in between throwing a ball for an enthusiastic border collie.

"Rufus! Rufus. Come back here. Don't annoy the pretty lady. So sorry, Miss."

Rufus had dropped his ball at my feet, and I picked up the slobbery mess and threw it as far as I could. "It's fine. He's a gorgeous puppy. It's okay for me to walk around here?"

"Not a problem, Miss. You're a guest for the wedding?"

Nodding, as again I threw the ball for Rufus, the vigneron explained that if I kept walking, I would come across a new garden area that wasn't yet open to the public but had a rose garden in bloom. "It's a beautiful spot. My better-half and me have been taking picnics out to that spot for almost thirty years. It's the peak of the area, and you can see vineyards for miles."

I kept on with my walk, keen to discover this spot. It was even more stunning than had been described to me. The scent from the roses was captivating. A solid timber bench under a pergola that one day would have roses draped all over it gave me an opportunity to sit and enjoy the vista.

I could imagine sitting out here with a picnic in summer, waiting for the sun to set and paint its hues across the sky. It was getting late, and I figured I had best be heading back in order to shower before the blasted dinner. I figured I'd make my way out here again in the morning and, this time, bring my phone to try and take some photos, even though I doubted my photography would do the place justice.

Focussing on the inner peace and calm I felt in this space, I did some relaxation exercises and hoped I would be able to hold onto this stillness when it came to the dinner.

~*~*~*~*~

Scott

I'd forgotten how similar my mother and Danielle de Duchy could be. Danielle was furious that there had been a mix-up with the accommodation, and I would be in a cottage in the vineyard rather than in the main house with the rest of the wedding party.

After her hints that the bridesmaid was keen to meet me and knowing what that secretly meant, I was thrilled to be away from the rest of the party. I'd taken up photography when I moved to London and loved nothing more than capturing shots of nature. The cottages fitted the environment of the vineyard perfectly. They were clumped in pairs away from the main house, and although an obviously recent addition, they exuded the old-world charm of the existing architecture.

I knew this was no mean feat and decided to talk to the owners about who had designed them. Despite preferring to photograph nature, I couldn't help but take shots of the cottage interior and exterior. Inside was an open-plan room with a large bed in a corner with a bathtub big enough for at least two people separating the sleeping area from the living area. Comfy couches in a deep brown leather looked through floor-to-ceiling windows that showed off the vineyard in all its glory. A modern kitchenette blended in seamlessly.

Outside I could appreciate the tint on the windows that gave great privacy to those inside. The stone and timberwork blended seamlessly to an arbour that linked the two cottages. A wisteria vine had started growing up and over but was not yet established.

An older man rode past on a quadbike with a border collie on the back, its tongue hanging out the side of its mouth, catching the breeze. Despite my reluctance to be part of the wedding, I was glad I had a chance to visit this place as it was truly spectacular.

Although the bathtub looked inviting, I needed to get ready for the damn rehearsal, so I took a shower instead. Soaping myself, I thought about how I would be seeing my parents the following day and hoped I would be too busy with wedding party things to be able to spend too much time with them. Perhaps Christine was a nice enough woman and would be able to distract me a little.

I was locking the cottage door on my way to the rehearsal when my neighbour arrived back at her cottage.

"Oh, my gosh! It's you!" I exclaimed as I took in the woman from the café at lunchtime.

"Hi, Scott." She attempted to enter her cottage but was having trouble with the key, and it was clear she was not keen on conversation. But wait, how did she know who I was?

"Here, let me." I offered, stepping over onto her verandah.

"I'm capable of opening a fucking door, thanks. You don't recognise me, do you?"

Shit. Was this someone I'd hooked up with? Was it someone I'd done business with? I had no idea, but she obviously knew me.

"I mean, I recognise you from lunch today. Your smile was captivating as you were engrossed in your phone. Are you a friend of the de Duchy's?" Going to an all-boys school meant she wasn't a former classmate.

"Oh fuck," she laughed, "You really don't recognise me!"

She had opened her door and simply went inside and shut it behind her.

I walked towards the wedding chapel for the rehearsal playing the interaction with this mystery woman over and over in my head. Whoever she was, she knew me and remembered me as the dickhead teenager I'd been. I hoped I hadn't hurt her in the past and was determined to seek her out and set the record straight at some stage.

"Scotty!" Daniel had a beer hanging from his hand at the entrance to the chapel. "This is Christine, Debbie's mate. She's really keen to get to know you, if you know what I mean!"

Christine was a clone of Debbie. Long straight blonde hair, fake tan, puffy lips from too much filler, fake eyelashes, and stiletto heels that were so high I wondered how she could walk in them.

"Dan's told me all about you, and I hear you can be a very naughty boy." Christine ran a pointy talon down my cheek after she'd kissed it.

Fortunately, the celebrant was ready to begin the rehearsal. It took forever for the women to work out how to walk down the aisle.

"What's your sister doing these days?" I asked Daniel as we waited for them again to try out a different step combination. I think step, slide was winning over step, step, pause.

"Fuck knows. Would you believe, Dumpy's chosen to live westside! I mean, she chose that."

"So, she's not in real estate?"

"God no. She doesn't have the looks for it."

"Is she coming to the wedding?"

"Apparently. She's here already and will be at the dinner, no doubt embarrassing Mum and Dad, as usual."

"How so?" I had memories of Davina following Daniel and me around when we were younger. She was always quiet and had few friends of her own.

"If she lost a few pounds, she might be alright, but jeez, let's just say Dumpy is still an appropriate name for her. Mum's put her in the cabins out the back so she shouldn't be too annoying."

The women had made it to the front of the chapel and the celebrant went on with the rehearsal. Fuck. I realised as the celebrant was running through the vows with the happy couple that my neighbour was indeed Davina.

No wonder she had been rude to me. She remembered the Scott who would follow Daniel around and who never cared that she hated the nickname her family had given her. Glancing over at the groom I could see that he was no pillar of healthy living. Like his father, he had a beer-belly and more than one chin. Poor Davina.

"There you are, dear Scott." Once again Danielle had cornered me as the rehearsal finished. "Once again, I'm so sorry for the mix-up with the rooms. We hadn't counted on Daniel and Debbie wanting separate rooms the night before the wedding. So romantic they want to be apart."

Whatever Danielle thought. The way Dan had ogled Christine had not escaped my attention. There was often talk that David got his way in real estate sleeping around, and I simply ignored any suggestions that Dan's mates made at school to tease him.

I reiterated that the cottage was perfect, and I was happy to be staying there. Thank heavens I wasn't going to be on the same floor as Christine.

Over drinks I met Debbie's parents and tried to make small talk. David attempted to convince me of the joys of real estate and how much I was missing out on, but I wasn't feeling it. I kept looking out for Davina and wanted to apologise for anything she thought I'd thought or done.

A few minutes before we were due in the small restaurant attached to the cellar door, I saw her attempt to slink in unnoticed. Excusing myself from an excruciatingly boring conversation with Debbie's father, I made my way over to the bar where she had found a red wine.

"Davina, I'm so sorry I didn't recognise you before. That dress is just, well, beautiful, and I love how it brings out the amber in your eyes." Geez. Was I trying to be a poet now?

"Thanks, Scott. Don't let my mother see you talking to me--you'll never hear the end of it." Davina could not look at me and simply glanced at her feet or at her wine glass.

"Your mother can take a long walk off a short pier. I'm getting the impression I'm not the only one who doesn't want to be here this weekend?"

Davina looked at me with surprise. "I'm not sure what my brother's put you up to this time, Scott, but I doubt anything could surprise me at this wedding."

"There you are, Dumpy. Glad you could join us. Not sure about wearing such a figure-hugging dress. Come through, dinner's about to start."

Danielle ushered her daughter away, and I felt an unease I was not thrilled with. I wondered if this was the way Davina had been treated by her family for years. I knew Dan and I used to tease her, but I never thought I did it with any form of malice.

Fortunately, Davina was sitting opposite me at the dinner with Debbie's brother and sister-in-law on her other side. I tried to engage her in conversation, but she was quiet, and it was clear she was here to slide into the background.

"Friends," Dan was tapping the side of his wine glass with a spoon. "Time for a bit of fun. Debbie and I have been having fun recreating some of our family photos from when we were growing up and have put together a bit of a slideshow for you."

We turned to face the screen and saw photos from Daniel and Debbie's childhood flash across the screen, interspersed with modern interpretations. Debbie's brother had got in on the act along with her parents and some of the pictures were quite clever. Daniel's photos were less creative. I couldn't help but notice that any with Davina had been removed as if she never existed in his childhood.

"See, it's always been in the genes!" Daniel laughed at a photo of him standing as a toddler in front of a Sold sign outside a nice-looking house. This was followed by a more recent photo, this time with Dan wearing lemon shorts and a mint t-shirt as in the original photos. "Finally, Scotty, remember this?" A photo appeared of Daniel, Davina, and me in the bath together. She would have been no more than about three years old and Dan and I would have been about five. "It's ok, ladies and gents, don't sweat, there's no way we'd subject you to Davina's tits all these years later, and we couldn't find a bathtub big enough!"

The whole table erupted in laughter. All except for Davina and me. That Daniel thought this was amusing, let alone that Davina would be happy to be the brunt of jokes about how she looked showed he didn't know her very well. Hell, from my brief conversations with her and seeing how her mother addressed her, I could see she had insecurities with her body, and I knew I wasn't the most insightful of men to begin with.

When I turned my seat back to the table after the presentation, Davina had left, and it was clear no one, apart from me, had noticed this.

~*~*~*~*~

Davina

I shouldn't have been horrified, in fact, I should have expected it. The dinner was worse than I had even dreamt possible. Scott started it all by pretending to be nice. At least I escaped before he could reveal what plan he and Dan had made. I was seated next to Debbie's brother--hell, I can't even remember his name--who droned on and on about how to write off wedding costs on your tax return if you were clever. I noted never to use his accountancy firm with any of my dealings.

The sexiness I felt in the shop that morning when I tried on the dress I wore to the dinner soon evaporated as my mother told me it was too figure-hugging as if that was the worst thing in the world. I'd snapped a photo in the cottage and sent it to Sabs and Marnie and they both told me how gorgeous I looked.

Getting back to the cottage, I beelined for the kitchenette, grateful a cheese platter had been left for me. Not wanting to disturb anyone else, I put in my headphones, and pressed play on the Lizzo album I knew word for word. That probably wasn't true. I didn't give a fuck if I disturbed my neighbour, but no doubt he'd tell Dan what I'd been listening to, or worse still, work it into one of the speeches at the wedding.

A bottle of red sat in the corner, compliments of the owners, the card read. I twisted the top and wondered when I'd last had to use a corkscrew. Laughing, I remembered the time Sabine had purchased a bottle of French red for us to drink, and we had to look up instructional videos on how to open it. I could still taste flecks of cork from when we stuffed it up pretty badly.

I wished my friends were here and thought about giving them a call, but I knew Marnie and Mei were out at a gallery opening and Sabine was on a date. She'd been seeing a new guy, Harold, for a few weeks, and things seemed to be going well for them. There was no point dirtying a wine glass, so I simply brought the bottle to my lips and glugged away. I didn't intend to glug, I mean, it was a great wine, and I made a note that I should pick up a couple of bottles to take home for my friends.

"Good as Hell" came on and I turned the volume up even more and sang as if the wine bottle was a microphone. I was so tired of the bullshit, but still didn't feel I could dust my shoulders off and escape this fucked-up family I'd been born into.

Some wine escaped the side of my mouth, landing on the front of my dress. Not wanting it to stain, I ripped my dress off and soaked it in the kitchen sink. I'd only had a couple of glasses of wine with dinner, and dinner hadn't been much--I'd left before dessert. Fuck them all, I thought. In my beige bra and knickers, I stood in the loungeroom singing alone to the next track. If only my mother could see me now. Fortunately, I'd drawn the blinds before I left for dinner.

I could feel my thoughts getting floaty and noticed I'd finished the bottle of wine. Turning my phone to face me, I flicked on my camera and took a selfie. Fortunately, brain-addled Davina hadn't worked out how to send it to anyone, especially as I was too busy singing along to the songs I was listening to.

In my mind, it was bad bitch o'clock. I was the queen of the world, and nothing could get me down. My phone battery suddenly died, and instead of working out, I could simply plug it in and charge it. I faceplanted myself on my bed and quickly fell asleep.

Waking up, my mouth felt like it was coated in sandpaper, my head felt like there was a woodpecker inside trying to get out, and my stomach felt like, well, let's just say I made it to the bathroom in time. One bottle of wine, plus a few glasses shouldn't have made me feel like this, but I had drunk the bottle in less than fifteen minutes.

My phone was still dead, but the clock on the microwave told me it was ten o'clock. I must have been tired to sleep that long. Fortunately, I'd missed the breakfast service, but there were some provisions, again left in the fridge. I found some headache pills in my bag and swallowed two with a large glass of water. My stomach tolerated vegemite on toast and a cup of tea, and I felt marginally better than when I had woken up.

The wedding wasn't until mid-afternoon. I had planned to go for another walk around the vineyard but decided that a soak in the large bathtub would be a better use of my time. Grabbing the latest wolf-shifter book Marnie had recommended to me, I lay back and tried to focus on the descriptions of the well-built men who would shift into wolves and go running in packs before heading home and needing lots of sex.

The plot in this book was fairly similar to ones I'd read before and never answered the question of where the shifters' clothes went when they shifted both to and from animal form.

In the water, my mind drifted, and I wondered how an author could Australianise such a story. Shifting into a kangaroo could be interesting. Sometimes I envied koalas sitting in trees all day eating the same thing. Perhaps I could shift into a koala?

With the water cold and the book finished--spoiler alert, she realised she does love the beast she's fallen for and wants all his babies, even if they will be shifters themselves and on the edge of society--I rubbed moisturiser all over my body and dressed in the gorgeous lingerie Marnie had made for me.