Mom and Dad had barely settled into their chairs and lifted their tea when Rosalie came bouncing back over.
"Uncle, Auntie, how can you be so careless? Sitting down to drink tea covered in filth like that."
"Even if your clothes are the finest money can buy, you don't have to show them off to us right now."
My parents' faces darkened at once.
A lifetime of dignity and gentle manners, and never once had they met such naked humiliation, such open provocation.
Rosalie lifted her chin, her tone lofty, as though lecturing a junior.
"We country folk care about being thrifty and plain, about living honestly, not about all that luxury and face and vanity."
"Uncle and Auntie, at your age, still chasing after designer luxuries. That really is a bit vain. Now that you've joined families with Auntie's household, you ought to break yourselves of these showy habits."
Dad's breathing turned heavy, and his hand tightened around the cup.
I turned to look at Russ, waiting to see what he would actually say.
Russ frowned, a flash of temper on his face, and in front of all the villagers he scolded her in a low voice. "Rosalie, stop making trouble. They're your elders. It's not your place to speak like that."
Something in me eased, because for once he was being fair. The next second, my heart sank.
"I'm not making trouble. I just can't stand the way they look down on everyone, can't stand all this waste and extravagance. I only feel bad for you."
The instant Rosalie's eyes reddened, the sternness dropped from Russ's face and it went soft, his tone almost fawning.
"All right, all right, don't cry. It's my fault, I shouldn't have been harsh with you."
"I know you mean well for me. I'm not blaming you. I just got worked up for a moment and came down too hard."
I stood there, cold all the way through.
My parents had been blasted with firecrackers, had cold water thrown on them in front of everyone, been mocked to their faces, and my fiancé hadn't offered a single apology, a single word of comfort.
His little childhood sweetheart mocked my parents in front of the whole gathering, her eyes reddened for one moment, and he bowed his head and apologized like some scolded grandchild.
Only once he had coaxed Rosalie into a smile through her tears did Russ turn back, reluctantly, to explain to Dad.
"Dad, Rosalie's a country girl, she's got a blunt nature, she speaks bluntly. Don't take offense. I'll apologize on her behalf."
Then he turned to me, dragging and shoving me off into an empty corner, impatience written all over his face.
"Philippa. Today is my mother's fiftieth birthday. The whole village is here. Don't make an ugly scene."
"Rosalie's young, she doesn't know any better. She's just quick and blunt with her words, there's no malice in her. Don't hold it against her."
I stared at him, unable to believe it. Rosalie had humiliated my parents in front of everyone, and that was called being quick and blunt?
Seeing the anger in my face, Russ frowned harder, and his tone turned to impatient blame.
"Rosalie's used to living simply. She can't stand seeing your parents dressed so over the top. She thinks they're showing off. Saying a few words about it is only normal."
"Besides, she knows perfectly well we're country people. Why dress so loudly, if not to put us down a notch?"
"Enough. Everyone's a little at fault here. If you keep pressing it now, people will just think you city folk are using your money to look down on us country people. Can't you just bear with it? Don't be so petty and leave me unable to hold my head up in front of everyone."
He paused, a trace of self-mockery in his voice, though every word drove straight into my heart.
"The relatives and neighbors already say behind my back that marrying you makes me a live-in son-in-law, that I'm leaning on your family, a man with no backbone. If you make a scene today, doesn't that just prove the rumor true, that I'm a spineless live-in son-in-law?"
"What Rosalie did today was partly to stand up for me. Can't you give a little, be more meek about it?"
