fandomtownies | The Arms Hotel Lobby, Saturday [3/22]

Entry tags:

The Arms Hotel Lobby, Saturday [3/22]

There was no one at the front desk today. Instead, Mary was sitting on one of the couches in the lobby, going over that wedding insurance policy one more time before she signed it. Okay, make that two or three times. Gunther, meanwhile, was keeping her supplied with tea and cucumber sandwiches.

Welcome to the Arms Hotel!
Please join us for afternoon tea.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

At first, for a moment, Charlotte actually thought this was a magnificent idea. And then she realized that this might not be so much the case, and her head tilted, a frowning thoughtfulness on her face. She opened her mouth to say something, closed it as the expression grew deeper, licked her lower lip, and then tried again.

"Well, was the cake intended for eating? Or was it just display? If it was just for display..." She intended to just trail off into what one could suppose there, but ended up just shaking her head. "That would cost a fortune. Did you make it? What karat?"

"Hmmm. I don't really remember what happened with the cake," said Mary. "There was the whole disaster with the catering. They paid for a package deal which included Wolfgang Puck, but the bride's Italian grandmother from New Jersey demanded that she cook for the entire wedding and Wolfgang quit in protest. And then the groom's father robbed the representative from Harry Winston who was bringing the rings..."

Charlotte quickly returned to her half-dollar eyed stare. Something like that was almost enough to make her feel like, comparatively, at her married life hadn't been nearly as bad as that wedding. "Is...is that the worse marriage story that you have?" she asked. Not at all because she wanted to hear other disasters to possibly make herself feel better, really.

"I think my friend Delinda's wedding was worse," said Mary, frowning. "First of all, she was marrying one guy but was in love with someone else, though I didn't find out about that until afterwards. Right as the wedding was about to start, someone took a shot at the father of the bride."

This probably wasn't the sort of thing one should say to a future bride but, sighing forlornly, Charlotte couldn't help it, shaking her head ruefully. "I wonder if there's ever such a thing as a perfect wedding," she said, miserably. There had to be, but, even if there was, it wouldn't be perfect because it wasn't happening to her. "The wedding as a whole, I mean," she added, compelled to clarify with sadness. "A perfect ceremony doesn't mean a perfect marriage..."

"I'm not sure if you can get perfection," said Mary. "I mean, I love George Michael and he makes me incredibly happy, but then there's his family. His dad pretty much ordered him not to get married, his uncle... well, just between you and me? I had a one-night stand with his uncle before George Michael and I started dating." She neglected to add that she willingly repeated the one-night stand once more before moving on.

"I take it you've had your own problems with marriage," said Mary.

Where Charlotte didn't say anything in response to any of this news, her eye and the subtle shifting in shapes of her mouth were making up for it. Especially that the uncle par, but then Mary's last comment completely shifted the gears in Charlotte's head. She blinked, frowning with concern.

"Does it seem like I do?" she asked, worried. She knew it. Hopeless divorcee had to be scrawled all across her forehead.

"Wondering if there's such a thing as the perfect wedding? You sound like I did a year ago when I first got here," said Mary. "Starting over in a new town, with a new business... I think I can recognize the signs."

Charlotte drew in a breath. Mary did have a point there. And, really, since they did seem to be in the same spot, and here she was, successful and engaged and by the looks of it happy. She could potentially look toward Mary as a mentor. She shifted slightly, forehead creased deeply.

"It's embarrassing," she started, "but, well...I was married. It was the perfect marriage, too, or it should have been, but it just...just...It was devastating, Mary." She shook her head. "Everything was perfect and then..."

The end of her tongue wedged between her lips to make the sound effect, "Ppttth."

She concluded with a pout.

"Mr. Perfect turned out to be not so perfect?" guessed Mary. She'd had the same problems with Danny and Casey, but she was lucky to have found that out before marrying either of them.

"Mr. Perfect turned out to be Mr. Impotent," Charlotte muttered, sulking at her tea. Among other things, but that really seemed the kicker.

"Oh yikes!" said Mary, stunned. "And you didn't find out until after the wedding? I'd say that's a deal breaker right there."

"Well," Charlotte winced a little, shrinking into her shoulders. "The day before. We were trying to wait, you see, and...well, there was alcohol involved, so I just figured...I just hoped, you know..."

"And he wasn't up to it?" asked Mary. She wasn't as experienced as Delinda or Sam, but she come across that problem a few times, mainly when Danny was suffering from PTSD.

"In the worse way," Charlotte commiserated. "And then," because now she couldn't hold herself back if she wanted to; it was just too second nature for Charlotte to start just ranting away in the company of a woman she felt a kinship with, "even when he could, there practically wasn't any point to it because my body attacked his sperm! Actually attacked any attempt for us to have a baby."

She pronounced the last word like the most important thing in the world.

"Oh, you poor thing. It was like everything was conspiring against you two," said Mary, reaching to pat Charlotte's hand.

Charlotte released another withing sigh, but offered Mary a grateful look, thankful for her sympathy, which, really, on this matter, she didn't have enough. She could just tell Mary was a fellow believer in love, which none of the New York crew had been, and the fellowship felt like a strong support. "It was supposed to be perfect, too," she mewed.

Mary felt at times that she was the last person who still believed in love. "Sometimes, perfect is something that you don't expect," said Mary, trying to find the words to explain what she meant. "For instance? I'm thirty and I'm marrying someone who's a decade younger than me. He's closer in age to the students at the school."

Only thirty? Charlotte suddenly felt like an old maid. She was too surprised to really dwell on that, though.

"That young? Most men you can't even get to call you back, and you managed to get someone that young to propose?"

"I honestly wasn't surprised when he proposed, but we'd already been through a lot together," said Mary. "Last fall, there was this congtagious illness that spread throughout town. I got sick almost right away. The first morning that I woke up in a cot in their makeshift hospital, George Michael was right there. Turns out that he spent the night on the floor just so he could be take care of me. Honestly, I sometimes think that it was more romantic than his proposal, because that's how I knew he was in it for the long haul."

"That is so sweet!" Charlotte gushed, growing more miserable over the whole topic. Maybe that was the problem. All the romantics wound up in the wrong generation.

"You'll find that people here tend to be pretty close to their neighbors," said Mary. "Actually, there must be a lot of romance going around right now. Besides my wedding, the principal at the school is getting married. So is one of the teachers." Mary could have mentioned Mike and his sort-of wedding, but that one got annulled.

Great, she'd done went and settled on Married Island. At least, apparently, there was a hot Mountie she could at least look at. "Wow," was all Charlotte really managed to say to that, but then she looked at her half-touched tea, and her book, and she settled a light hand on top of the latter and pulled it in. "Well, I was nice meeting you, Mary, but I think I'm done here for the moment. I think I might just retire to my room and rest a bit."

And be utterly, entirely, completely depressed.

"Of course, you're still getting settled," said Mary. "Good luck with the gallery. I can't wait to see what you do with it. And if you ever need wing-woman for a night at Caritas, let me know. I still like to go out from time to time, even if my fiancé doesn't."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The Arms Hotel Lobby, Saturday [3/22]

Re: Room Service [3/22]

Re: Room Service [3/22]

Re: Room Service [3/22]

Re: Room Service [3/22]

Re: Room Service [3/22]

Re: Room Service [3/22]

Re: Room Service [3/22]

Re: Room Service [3/22]

Re: Room Service [3/22]

Re: Room Service [3/22]

Re: Room Service [3/22]

Re: Room Service [3/22]

Re: Room Service [3/22]

Re: Room Service [3/22]

Re: Room Service [3/22]

Re: Room Service [3/22]

Re: Room Service [3/22]

Re: Room Service [3/22]

Re: Room Service [3/22]

Re: Room Service [3/22]

Re: Room Service [3/22]

Re: Room Service [3/22]

Re: Room Service [3/22]

Re: Room Service [3/22]