The Proposal

Chapter 8

The grey light of a new day was already on the horizon by the time Geralt made it back to the Pankratz family home. Despite drinking enough to drown a sailor, Grammy was compos mentis enough to sail the boat back to the island, and Geralt was drunk enough not to question how irresponsible that may be. Mary, meanwhile, had to be carried onto the boat by Geralt after drinking too much of Grammy's infamous cordial.

"So, what's the verdict—did you have a fun night?" Grammy asked as she docked the boat in the harbour. Geralt easily lifted a sleeping Mary into his arms and carried her up the gravel path towards the house with Grammy by his side. The evening's events flashed through his mind: he could easily have passed on the oily strippers and karaoke, but watching Grammy take a jelly shot from the belly button of the nightclub bartender would stay with him forever.

"It was an interesting experience," he replied diplomatically.

Grammy snorted and shook her head. "Admit it! You enjoyed yourself."

"Hmm...maybe a little bit."

"That's good enough for me," she relented, patting him on the back.

The house was dark and quiet when they entered. Grammy said that she would grab a drink and a quilt for Mary while he gently laid her out on the living room couch. Mary barely stirred as Grammy tucked the quilt under her chin and left a glass of water on the coffee table.

"Can't forget this," she whispered, placing a basin on the floor next to Mary. She sighed and shook her head as she looked down at her daughter-in-law. "Poor girl will have a rotten hangover tomorrow. She's never been able to hold her liquor."

"She seemed to enjoy herself up until the point she fell asleep in the toilets."

"Thank the gods Pris found her, otherwise she'd still be in there," Grammy chuckled. She looked up at Geralt with a fond smile. "Come here. I want to talk to you about something."

Geralt frowned but followed Grammy as she beckoned him into the kitchen where they could speak without disturbing Mary. She motioned for him to take the empty seat next to her at the kitchen table before she spoke again. "Mary and I are hoping to send out the wedding invitations tomorrow morning, but you still haven't told us who you would like to invite."

Geralt's stomach dropped. "Right. Um, about that...to be honest, the wedding's been arranged on such short notice, I can't really expect people to drop everything and come along. And it's such a long way to travel. Plus, I haven't brought my address book with me, so it would be a nuisance trying to get a hold of everyone's addresses, you know?"

"Couldn't you just call them?" she pressed.

She had him there. He struggled to think of a good reason as to why he couldn't call the imaginary friends and family that he had to attend his fake wedding. When he drew a blank, he replied weakly, "I don't want to hassle anyone."

Grammy studied Geralt silently for a moment. "You know, since you've arrived here, you've talked a lot about your work, but I don't think you've ever mentioned anyone from your life. Don't you have any friends or relatives that you want to be there on your big day?"

Geralt fidgeted in his seat, thinking he'd rather be receiving another lapdance than endure this interrogation any longer. "Well, truth be told, I don't have many people who would fall into either of those categories." He bowed his head as his insides twisted with embarrassment. "So, really it wouldn't even be worthwhile asking anyone."

"So, there isn't anyone that you would like to invite?"

Geralt shrugged. "Not particularly."

"No family?" Geralt shook his head and Grammy sighed. "I thought that may be the case."