The house that Rosalind and Edward Quinn rented in Hartford was big. But it wasn't nearly as big as their house in London. My mum and I stood in front of the great big wooden doors as we waited for someone to let us in.

"Remember," my mum chided just as the door opened.

"I know, be nice," I repeated her words from the car as we stepped into the house. Hattie, one of my grandmothers maids took our coats with a timid smile. "Hey, Hattie," I greeted her.

Hattie was a petite lady in her early twenties with ringlets of blonde hair. She was so tiny that I was afraid she'd break under the weight of our coats. "Hello, Miss." She replied before scurrying off. Despite my many insistence for her to stop calling me miss, she keeps doing it.

"We're in here!" I heard my grandmother call from the living room. My mum and I made our way over to her and my grandfather.

"Cassie!" My grandfather said happily before hugging me tightly. He was a good head taller than me with greying black hair and dark brown eyes. "How is school going?"

"Good," I said with a smile in my grandmothers direction.

She had her usual brown hair with streaks of grey pinned up on her head. She wore a very elegant dress with a floral print on. "Sit down, dinner will be ready soon," she tells us as we take a seat on the two opposite couches.

We all made small talk as we waited for dinner to be served. I was nodding along to the conversation every now and then but the inside of my head was spinning with various thoughts of what I was gonna say to my mother after dinner.

I had told Jess that I would tell my mother about us and I planned to stick to my word. It was just that there was so many ways this could go wrong. I decided that I would tell her on the drive back home. That way if she planned to kill me, she'd have to wait till we got home. It seemed as if a lot of our intense arguments had happened in the car, so why not keep the tradition alive.

"Cassie," my grandmother pulled me out of my thoughts. "I was just asking if there were any boys in your life?" She asked as if looking through my mind.

I cleared my thoughts -and throat- before answering her, trying not to give anything away. "Um, no there isn't."

"There better not be," my grandfather added from his place beside me. In his eyes I could go out with Leonardo DiCaprio and he still wouldn't be good enough for me.

My mother chimes in from across me. "Even if she did I would know," she says confidently. I hated to be the one to tell her she was wrong.

"Don't be absurd," my grandmother says with a pointed look to her. "Remember all those boys you kept from me."

She pinched the bridge of her nose with a sigh. "We've been over this before ma," my mother says.

"The last time you hid someone from me it was-" my grandmother was cut short with a glare from my mother. She always made sure that I never heard my fathers name from her mouth, so it was no surprise that she had banned anyone from saying his name either.

On that note, Hattie came into the living room. "Dinner is ready," she announced as everyone got up and made their way to the dining table.

The table was set for four and had a variety of salads and what looked like chicken parmesan. With all the food on the table you'd think that it was a dinner party. There was no noise except for the sound of our cutlery hitting the plates.

That was  until my grandmother spoke up. "Are you sure you don't have a boyfriend?" She asked once again as she put down her fork and knife.

I swear to god, I felt like I was sweating buckets. "Yes, Nana. I'm sure," I lied. "Why do you ask?"

She shrugs and gives me a a confused look. "I just remember seeing you with that boy the other day."

Before I could comprehend what she had said my mum butted in. "What boy?" She asked with an accusing glance at me. Everyone at the table had stopped eating to listen to the conversation. My grandfather looked between the three of us with a half-amused and half-terrified smile.

"You know," my grandmother stated as if it was obvious. "The one at the inn the other day."

It felt as if I was paralysed and couldn't do anything to stop the collision that I knew was coming. I could think of multiple times that Jess and I had hung out at the inn, mainly in the supply closet. But I had absolutely no recollection of seeing my grandmother there.

"When were you at the inn?" I managed to choke out from under my mums scrutinising gaze.

"I went to visit your mum last week," she explained. "That boy is very cute."

I completely froze, I had no idea what to do. I did not expect this to happen at all. Maybe if I had opened my mouth to speak or do anything at all, I could've prevented it from getting worse.

"What did this boy look like?" My mother interrogated. She had some fire in her eyes that I recognised from the night of the accident. I had no doubt that my mum knew who the boy was. But she just wanted to make a show of it.

"Mum, please-" I plead for her to stop but I got interrupted by my grandmother. All too happy to describe Jess in detail. There were very few moments that I wanted to stab someone with a dining fork, and this was one of them.

Whether my grandmother knew what she was doing or not, it didn't help my wanting to kill her. My grandfather sat at the other end of the table, stuffing his mouth with more chicken as all hell broke loose.

I tried to hide my red face behind my dark hair as my mother listened and nodded along to my grandmothers description of how 'comfortable' I looked around Jess. She added a few exaggerated 'huh's every now and then, along with the occasional glare my way.

"Really they're very cute together, nice going Cassie," my grandmother complemented with a wink my way. When she realised the heated look my mum sent my way and how engrossed I was in my half eaten salad she immediately apologised. "Oh, I'm sorry, did I-"

My mum cut her of with a shake of her head. "No, it's fine Ma." She said with a fake smile. Turning towards me with a grin that would overpower the Joker's she speaks, "It's fine, isn't it?"

I swallow down the lump in my throat and nod, knowing full well it was anything but fine. "Just peachy."

No one spoke after that. There was not a single sound in the room. Not even the sound of our cutleries against the plates, it seemed that everyone had lost their appetite.

My grandfather cleared his throat before running a hand through his greying hair. "Nice chicken today, Rosalind," he tried as he shoved a forkful into his mouth. The three of us just stared at him with mixed expressions.

~~~

Let's just say that the tradition of arguing in the car was still going strong. The car was parked in my grandparents driveway, the porch lights illuminating the inside of the car dimly.

"Unless everything your grandmother said in there was a lie or she suddenly felt the need to pursue a career in comedy, you got some explaining to do." My mum announced before slamming the car door closed.

I sat in the passenger seat with my eyes trained on the handbrakes. I didn't want to meet her stern gaze. "I'm sorry," was all I said, I knew that she wouldn't let me explain until she was done letting all her frustration out. The best thing to do right now was to just answer her questions, no more and no less.

"You're sorry?" My mum spit out though her clenched teeth. "A week? A freaking week!" She exclaimed. When she saw the wince of my face at the false information, she must've figured out that a week was sugarcoating it. "How long?"

I played with the ends of my sleeves, still not daring to look up at her. "A month," I mumbled just loud enough for her to hear.

My mum let out something that was in between a scoff and a laugh. "A fucking month!" She repeated. I looked up at her words to see her tugging at the ends of her brown hair. "After everything I told you!"

"Mum-" I try to calm her down with a hand on the shoulder but she slaps my hand away.

"Were you even planning on telling me?" She asks as her eyes bore into mine.

"I did! I-I really did!" I say, eager to answer honestly for once this evening.

She lets out a sarcastic laugh at my answer. "When? On your wedding day?"

"I was gonna tell you right after dinner, on the way home!" I tell her with a look, begging her to see the truth in my words. "I swear, believe me."

"How can I? How?" She exclaims looking at me. "You've been lying to me for the past month!"

"Mum, please," I beg her. I look into her eyes and can see her contemplating what to say. "I promise, I was gonna tell you tonight." Promises were a big thing in our little family, we took it very seriously.

She sighs out in frustration before putting the key in the ignition. "I can't-," She begins, "I'm not doing this now."

Before I realised what I was doing, I grabbed her hand away from the ignition, taking the key out. "No, we're doing this now." I say, "We can't keep going to bed, then waking up in the morning and forgetting about all our problems. That's not how it works!"

"Glad to see we agree on something tonight," she tells me.

"What?"

"We both agree that this is a problem, and that it need to be solved." She began with a nod of her head. "So, we're gonna solve it by making sure you stop seeing him."

"No," I say sternly with a shake of my head. "No, I'm not doing that."

"I'm not asking you," she says, bringing me back to another argument we had when I came back from Washington.

I sent her a sarcastic smile. "Is it just me, or did we have this conversation already?" I ask, knowing full well that she remembers it.

"Yes, yes we did." She says with a glare.

"I didn't listen to you then," I tell her honestly, "And I'm not gonna listen to you now."

My mum runs both her hands over her face. "Why? Why must you always argue with me on everything I say?"

I held my arms open, my sarcasm getting the best of me. "Haven't you seen any coming of age movies? I'm seventeen, it's what I'm supposed to do."

Pinching the bridge of her nose for what felt like the millionth time that stressful night, she turns to me. "I cannot deal with your sarcasm right now."

"Then you can deal with my honesty," I say. "I like him mum, I really really do."

"You'll only wind up hurt," she shakes her head at me in disbelief. "Or worse, pregnant!" She continues.

"Can't you trust that I know what I'm doing?" I ask her.

Scoffing, my mum turns to me, "I did do that, then you lied to my face!"

"Alright," I began, "I'm sorry I lied. Just let me have this, please."

I could practically see the gears turning in her head. "Is he why you wanna go to New York?" Her question caught me off guard. I didn't know how it fit in all of this at all.

"No, he's not why I wanna go there."

She looks at me, unconvinced. "Really?"

"Really," I confirm.

We both sit in silence after that, my mum not saying anything. It was killing me, not knowing what she was thinking.

She turns to me with a sigh, "Okay."

"Okay?" I ask in disbelief. Was this really what I had been waiting a month to hear.

"I accept it, there's nothing I can do," she starts as I look at her skeptically, wondering if this was some sort of trick. "But don't think for one second that I'm happy about it."