“Grace, but what about those extra pounds? Surely that’s a problem?”Dylan’s mother wouldn’t let it go.
“In my eyes, theres nothing extra about me, especially since my future husband adores me just as I am. Not everyones meant to be a waifish twig,” Grace retorted, casting a pointed glance at Eleanor and Dylans mother. The sheer cheek of it made Eleanor flush crimson.
“Mum! Did you buy that slimming tea? The chia seeds? Why on earth did you drown my porridge in butterdo you want me to balloon?! Dylan, did you buy that yeast bread again? Its dreadful for you! And I need three glasses of water by morning, or the weight wont budgewheres my water?!” These were the sorts of tirades Dylan had endured since childhood.
His mother and older sister were forever obsessed with their figures. Now, at thirty-eight, Eleanor had never married, resembling nothing so much as a gaunt, hunched horse with perpetually hungry eyes. His mother, meanwhile, was as straight and rigid as a knitting needle.
It wore on him so much that he was always drawn to cheerful people with hearty appetites. Hed always dreamed of a wife who was nothing like his mother or sister. And hed found her.
Her name was Grace. Even the sound of it was soft, sweet, deliciouslike a warm slice of Victoria sponge. No, Grace wasnt thin. At five foot eight, she carried thirteen stone with pride.
And every ounce radiated health and joy. Curves in all the right places, a waist that dipped in just so, dimpled cheeks begging to be pinched. The moment Dylan laid eyes on her, he was utterly smitten.
One evening, he dropped Eleanor at the bank on an errand. She took a ticket and perched in a chair while he paced the lobby, waiting.
Thenlike silver bellsa laugh rang out, quiet but infectious. Dylan found himself grinning before he could stop it. He had to see who it belonged to.
The laughter came from a teller assisting an elderly customer. Whatever hed said set her off again, and Dylan couldnt look away.
From her wavy chestnut hair to her bow-shaped lips, she was utterly enchanting. And yes, she was undeniably voluptuousno mistaking that.
He drove home with Eleanor, half-listening to her droning, but his mind was still back at the bank, with that woman.
“Dylan, are you even listening?” Eleanor snapped.
“Of course, Eleanor,” he lied, scrambling to recall her latest grievance.
“So I told him, I dont eat fried meatonly boiled chicken breast,” she whined about yet another failed suitor. Dylan nodded sympathetically, clicked his tonguewhat a rotter, indeed.
The next evening, he raced back to the bank. She was there. Relief flooded him. After closing, he fetched a bouquet of roses from the car and marched straight to her.
“Miss. Fancy a husband? Or a son-in-law for your mum?” he blurted, thrusting the flowers at her.
His face must have been so absurdly earnest that she burst out laughingbut she took the roses.
“Goodness these are gorgeous! The scent!” She buried her face in them, inhaling deeply, while he just stared, besotted.
From then on, they were inseparable. Sometimes you meet someone and just *know*this is it, no more searching. Thats how it was for Dylan and Grace. He proposed within a month, and she said yes without hesitation. All that remained was meeting the parents.
Graces family welcomed him with a feast, laughter, and warmth. Her mothera statuesque beautykissed both his cheeks, flustering him terribly. Her father clapped him on the shoulder like an old mate and steered him to the kitchen.
“Best steer clear of the womentheyll nag you to death. But dont fret, Margarets harmless. Thats why Ive loved her thirty years. And Grace? Shes our gem. Look after her, lad,” her father said, fixing Dylan with a firm look.
They lingered at the table for hours, eating heartily, swapping stories, singing along as Graces dad played guitar. Dylan felt instantly at home, as if hed known them forever.
Three days later, they visited his family. Grace stopped at a patisserie for handcrafted éclairs. By five, theyd arrived.
Dylans mother, Patricia, opened the door.
“Ohhello, darlings,” she said, gaping at Grace before freezing on the spot.
“Mum, love you too. Mind if we come in?” Dylan nudged her gently inside.
“Of course, son, of course Do come in. You must be Grace?” Patricia regained her composure just enough to scrutinize Grace head to toe.
“Yes! Delighted to meet you.” Grace pressed her hand into Patricias and breezed past, leaving the older woman stunned.
“Dad, Eleanor, Mumthis is Grace, my fiancée. Weve filed the paperworkweddings soon. Grace, meet my family: my sister Eleanor, my mother Patricia, and my father Nigel.”
The news clearly shocked them. Silence fell, broken only by the clink of cutlery.
“Well! Grace, were thrilled to have you,” Nigel boomed. “Is that a bottle? Splendid! And treatsthough those are for you ladies, of course.”
“Oh no, we dont eat pastries, especially not at night,” Patricia said, shoving the box away with distaste.
“You dont*we* do. Hand it over, lets see whats inside. Grace wouldnt bring anything less than stellar, eh?” Nigel winked.
Eventually, they settled. Chocolate, light bites, and bubbly appeared. Glasses clinked. Awkward silence returned.
“Mum, Ive met Graces parents. Lovely peopleyoull adore them,” Dylan offered lamely. Grace studied her glass; Eleanor stared unabashedly. Nigel launched into a joke, and tension ebbed slightly.
“Grace, darling, you mustnt fret. I know a marvelous specialistIll introduce you. Shell sort your little issue,” Patricia said sweetly.
“Issue? What issue?” Grace blinked.
“Oh come now, those extra pounds! Surely thats”
“In *my* eyes, theres nothing extra. Especially since my future husband loves me as I am. Not everyones cut out to be a stick insect.” Grace smirked, eyeing Eleanor and Patricia.
“Grace, youre at *least* three stone overweight! Its not healthy. And when you have childrengoodness, I dread to think”
“When I have children, Ill be even lovelier, with a devoted husband and a baby. Speaking ofEleanor, you *are* married, arent you? A slim thing like you must have a dashing bloke and at least two little ones by now” Grace took a vicious bite of éclair.
Eleanor gulped, puffing upbut Nigel cut in, refilling glasses.
“A toast! To the women of our familydifferent, but dearly loved!”
They left two hours later. Exchanging a glance, they sighed in unisonthen burst out laughing.
“Well wasnt expecting *that* from my future mother-in-law,” Grace said.
“Grace, love, youre stunning, and you know it. As for Mum and Eleanor? Forgive them. Cant choose family.”
The wedding was set for August 25th. After the registry office, guests flocked to the reception.
Grace glittered in a gown that hugged every curve. Dylan couldnt take his eyes off her. Her mother, Margaretevery bit as strikingdrew admiring glances in an elegant dress, a stark contrast to Patricias stiff, sack-like frock. Eleanor was her mothers spitting image, only younger.
Music swelled. The newlyweds took the floor, lost in each other. Guests watched, mesmerized.
“Honestly the bride could stand to lose a few. That dress does her no favorsmakes her look *enormous*,” Patricia muttered.
Too late. The words hung in the air.
“Funnymany men dont fancy skeletons. Yours, for instance, prefers a *real* woman. And youd best mind that tongue, dearIm sweet-tempered, but cross me about my daughter, and I cant be held responsible” Margaret advanced, her formidable bosom herding Patricia against a wall.
The women locked eyesPatricia fearful, Margaret furiousuntil Nigel swooped in.
“Ladies! Getting along splendidly, I see. But I must steal my wifeMargaret, darling, may I have this dance?”
As they waltzed away, the party roared back to life.
Heres hoping the newlyweds live long, love deeply, and prosper.
After all, thats what matters, isnt it?
