Nolan and I had our turn at the buffet, with the goal of leaving the parents minimal time to interact without our supervision. We divided and conquered: he attained the meat and seafood plate, and I got the veggies, fruit, and dessert. We did it silently, with Nolan looking over at me. I wasn’t in a talkative mood, not even chatty about all the breadth of desserts on display, which included a chocolate fountain. We were both seated again in less than forty-five seconds.
The table went quiet, with everyone digging into their food, no one knowing what to say next. Nolan Senior broke the silence. “So, Melody, I hear you make and play games for a living. I’d love to get paid for that!” He guffawed at his joke, which was a pretty good one, by parent standards. I grinned and nodded.
“It’s definitely different from your farming business,” I said with a shallow laugh.
He asked, “So what game are you working on now?”
Hmmm, how could I explain to Nolan’s tobacco-heir parents that my game involved male strippers who tried to save the world from ultimate destruction? Everyone waited for me to speak. Even my parents leaned forward, pausing their crab cracking, eager to hear about my job. And I didn’t know what to say.
And then, Nolan jumped in. “Her game is top secret. They don’t want any leaks. It’s like Apple and how they make everyone sign nondisclosures and stuff.”
I smiled politely. Thank you, Nolan.
Nolan’s dad winked at me. “Well, we can’t wait to see it when it launches. Maybe Jo and I can download the game on our phones.” I tried to picture Nolan’s mom and dad playing a stripper shooter game in cooperative game mode. Two sixtysomething-year-olds with stripper avatars taking on the world’s survival, blasting zombies and aliens with machine guns and grenade launchers. Oh my god, that would be amazing.
My parents ate two plates of seafood each, and then had some kind of cream pie that they shared with each other. Their culinary preferences were quite different from the spread the MacKenzies had eaten. They had ended their meal with fresh fruit, cottage cheese, and black coffee.
My dad wiped his mouth with his napkin. “So you are farmers.”
“We don’t need to talk about work, Dad.” I needed to intervene before things got awkward with the money stuff.
Chest puffed, Nolan’s dad boomed, “Oh, we don’t mind. We’re hoping our boy will come home soon to take over the family business when he gets his business degree.”
Nolan Junior and I exchanged looks. Is that why he didn’t want to graduate?
“The family’s been farming tobacco since the late 1800s,” Nolan Senior added, sitting up straighter, proud of the family heritage.
My dad wrinkled his forehead when he said “tobacco.” Then his eyes grew wide. “Did you own any slave?”
Oh shit.
The MacKenzies all exchanged glances. His dad chuckled and wiped a single bead of sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief. “We don’t get asked that question a lot. From what I know about our family’s deeds, our ancestors bought the farmland after the Civil War ended.”
My parents went back to eating the cream pie and didn’t have any additional farm/slave questions.
When the check came, all the parents clawed for the bill. In the end, Mr. MacKenzie Senior grabbed it the quickest. He was also the tallest, so playing keep-away with the check by holding it far above and behind his head was easy for him. He waved down the waiter and handed him a black Centurion American Express card, the same one Jane had. That had a $10K annual fee or some wild shit like that. Were all tobacco farmers like this?
My parents thanked the MacKenzies for paying for lunch. As we all walked out of the restaurant, my mom said, “You should come over tomorrow morning for our continental breakfast. It free. They have croissant, cream cheese pastry, and slice bagel. We will be there just two day.” She leaned in and whispered, “They won’t check for room key.” Mr. and Mrs. MacKenzie smiled civilly and graciously declined. It bothered me that my parents didn’t invite ME for free breakfast. I was always down for free food.
My dad said to the MacKenzie elders, “Very nice meeting you.” He and Nolan Senior shook hands. Then Dad turned to Nolan and patted his back. “We give our blessing if you want to marry Melody someday.”
My jaw dropped, and Nolan’s did too. I glanced at the MacKenzie elders, and both of them looked like someone had jumped out of a bush and yelled, BOO! Here’s your new daughter-in-law! My parents ducked into my car and slammed the doors while I stood there quietly with all three MacKenzies, pulse racing, trying to process what had happened. Before I could apologize on my parents’ behalf, my dad leaned over from the passenger seat and beeped my horn four times.
Ready.
To.
Go.
Now.
If this were a play, this is where I would yell, “And . . . end scene!” for comic relief. But, unfortunately, this was not a play. And there seemed to be no end to this insanity.
I’m so sorry, I mouthed to Nolan. I jumped into my car and drove the Joo family away at breakneck speed. Too bad we didn’t wager on who had the most embarrassing parents. I would have gotten my $20 back.
CANDACE TEXTED ME while I was unloading my parents’ luggage at Holiday Inn. Her court marriage appointment had been delayed a couple of hours, but it was back on again.
After circling the courthouse and coming to terms with the fact that no street parking was available in the vicinity, I drove under the building where every full hour of parking was $5.
The judge, Candace, and Wil hovered together, each with a pen in hand, just as I entered the courtroom. When Candace saw me walk into the courtroom, she squealed, “Oh my god, Melody! You made it! You get to witness us getting married! I’m still single right now for a few more seconds!”
The judge chuckled and waved me forward. The court-appointed witnesses had just picked up pens to sign the papers, but the judge allowed me to sign the document as witness number one. I scanned the room for Jane.
Wil noticed. “Jane? She was here a few minutes but had to leave once our appointment got bumped.”
After putting my name to paper, I took a photo with the happy couple. Candace, in a gorgeous sleeveless silk dress looked stunning. Wil looked pretty good, too, wearing a classic black tuxedo with a silver bow tie. Candace’s bouquet was an assortment of wildflowers tied together in a thick ribbon that matched her dress.
The judge smiled and declared Candace and Wil, Mr. and Mrs. Fung, husband and wife. Candace and Wil kissed for my photo and then continued to kiss about fifty times. I’d never attended a wedding so short.
The photographer tapped his foot. “We need to get to the museum for the photo shoot before it gets too dark. A storm is coming, and I don’t want it to ruin your photos.” Translation: get out of their way and let them do their planned photo thing. I waved to Candace and Wil as they drove away in their Jeep, with cans tied with strings clattering along as they turned out of the courthouse parking lot. As their car grew smaller in the distance and eventually disappeared, I thought about how happy they looked during their ceremony. I wanted what they had: to be with a partner who was caring, down-to-earth, and accepted me the way I was.
I’d only parked there a total of twenty-five minutes. According to the signs, parking was free for thirty minutes or less. Woooo, free parking! The parking attendant waved me through and I headed home with a gigantic smile plastered on my face. At least something went amazingly right that day.
Chapter Eighteen
For three straight weeks, it was just work, work, work. No play, play, play. And no distractions. I tuned Asher out, skipped out on any employee trainings and workshops, and ignored all Nolan’s impromptu social visits and playful messages. I was just too embarrassed by my dad’s marriage approval comment and hadn’t worked through my feelings about Nolan’s immense wealth. After a while, he got the hint. It probably helped that I just flat out said, “Sorry, I’m busy,” anytime he tried to interact with me.
Nick, my mentor and career savior, called me at 7:30 A.M. the day of GameCon Northwest. “Good news! The game trailer is rendering now and will be ready within the hour.” He and I had pulled an all-nighter to get the video finished.
I groaned and said, “GameCon floor opens at nine, we’re barely going to make it.” The late delivery of the trailer wasn’t Nick’s fault. Ian insisted that we include some of the latest game clips that had just been finished the previous night. Nick didn’t complain, though, my company paid a hefty fee for the redo. The video looked amazing, even with the last-minute touches.
“Yes, but we ARE going to make it, Melody,” Nick reassured me. “Have I ever missed a deadline?”
The demo build had come along nicely too.
GameCon NW was one of the largest gaming conventions on the West Coast and was also the fastest growing. Both inside and outside of the venue, Stormtroopers, Sailor Moons, superheroes, and mutant cosplayers milled around, studying the show floor maps and taking selfies. Luigi from Mario Brothers gave me a high five at the main entrance.
I had come to the convention the day before to make sure we had no problems with the video monitors, Wi-Fi, or the electricity. Setting up our booth twenty-four hours in advance paid off because our display only needed minor final touches the morning of the show. The last thing on my to-do list was to pick up my preordered cosplay warrior costumes, fake machetes, and hunting knives from the nearby costume rental shop.