The NYCE Girls!

by Raquel Belle

  The entire evening has left me in confusion. Jason’s unexpected ride is the cherry on top. I mean, I know people make great money in construction but a Porsche? And then there are all of Thomas’s comments. Mr. Mogul snagged the maid of honor. I’m not interested in gossiping about your conquests. Mr. Big City Playboy. I run through what he said again in my head as I snuggle into bed. Maybe he was just being a jerk. I had rebuffed him earlier when he’d been chatting me up—while staring straight at my cleavage, no less. But then again, maybe not.

  The next day, Saturday, I wake up with a puffy face and red eyes. Luckily I have no maid of honor duties to attend to until later this afternoon, giving me time to try and hide the evidence of my emotional meltdown. After a quick trip to the pharmacy for eye drops I manage to look somewhat presentable by the time I have to meet my mom and Laura to view floral arrangements.

  I can walk to the florist from the hotel and as I stroll up, I can see the two of them through the large glass front window. Laura is busily rifling through various bouquets in front of her, taking flowers from one and adding them to another, while Mom chatters away animatedly next to her. Laura is wearing a cute empire-waist dress that goes to the knee in a shade of pale yellow. Mom is wearing a gorgeous pair of linen pants and a simple sleeveless blouse in creamy white. Shit, I think to myself, feeling slightly underdressed. I’m clad in jean shorts and a ratty old t-shirt from some 5K I ran years ago. Basically my outfit matches my mood right now—which is rundown and bummed out.

  The second I walk in the door and the little bell hanging on it announces my arrival, Mom advances on me, her arms outstretched for a hug, “Cara, sweetheart! There you are.”

  “Hey Mom.” I give her a big hug, savoring the warm moment after my emotional night.

  “Finally! What kept you?” Laura barely looks up from the white lilies she’s carefully inspecting.

  “Sorry, I got off to a slow start this morning.”

  “What happened to you last night? You left without even saying goodbye.”

  “Yeah, I wasn’t feeling well.” I reach for the lie quickly, realizing that jetting off last night without a word to anyone really was in poor form. “I’m sorry. Those lilies are gorgeous,” I add, hoping to steer the conversation towards friendlier territory. Laura’s demeanor is icy, to say the least.

  “They are, right?” A smile finally creeps over her face. “I actually think I’m going to skip a traditional bridal bouquet and just carry some white lilies like these.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea,” Mom says, kissing her gently on the cheek. “How is the dress by the way? I’m so sorry I missed the fitting the other day.”

  “It’s absolutely gorgeous,” I hurriedly say, still self-conscious about the incident at Vera’s Bridal Shop. “Laura looks like a literal dream in that dress.”

  “Thanks, sis.”

  “And your bridesmaid dress fits too, Cara?”

  “Jason certainly seemed to think so,” Laura notes, the tiniest hint of bitterness evident under the casual tone she’s put on. She doesn’t look at me but keeps her face down as she holds up different shades of ribbons to the bouquet of white lilies she’s constructed.

  “Oh, Jared’s brother! He is such a nice young man.” Thankfully Mom chimes in before I have to say anything. “And he’s in New York, just like you Cara! How is it that the two of you have never met before?”

  “New York is pretty big Mom,” I say, unable to suppress my smile.

  “And I doubt Cara and Jason run in the same circles,” Laura adds, shooting me a look.

  “Jared did mention that he’s quite a success. How old is he anyway? About your age, isn’t he Cara?”

  “Thirty-six,” I say without thinking—at the exact same time as Laura. She shoots me a surprised look.

  “I didn’t realize you’d gotten a chance to know him, Cara.”

  “It came up at brunch.”

  “And is he single?” Mom is asking all of this casually but her agenda is clear.

  “I don’t know.” I swallow hard as I say the words because I suddenly realize that I technically don’t know for a fact whether Jason is single or not. I mean, he seems to be but he surely must be dating other people…at the very least.

  “He probably has at least three different girls on the go in New York, from what Jared tells me,” Laura cuts in.

  “Oh, well, that’s too bad. So what color ribbon do you want, sweetie?” Mom turns her attention to Laura’s handiwork and the two of them fuss around with the lilies and ribbons.

  “I’m just going to take a look around. This is such a beautiful flower shop,” I say, but they’re barely paying attention—thankfully. I walk down the aisles of flowers—marigolds, roses, peonies, petunias, and more—blinking back tears. Laura’s comments, coupled with what Thomas was saying last night, have me worried. It doesn’t matter, Cara, I remind myself. You want to put a stop to all of this anyway. Who cares if he’s dating half of Manhattan? This isn’t the guy for you.

  I walk up and down the aisles until I see Laura and Mom at the cash register at the front, discussing their order with the florist.

  “So you can deliver everything directly to the venue on the day of?” I hear Laura say as I walk up.

  “Of course, Ms. Conley. We’ll be happy to do so.”

  “She won’t be Ms. Conley for much longer,” Mom says, giving Laura a little nudge.

  “Are you taking Jared’s last name?” I ask, slightly shocked. Of course, I know most people do this but I just hadn’t thought of the fact that my little sister and I might not share the same last name anymore.

  “Yeah, we talked about it and I’m going to. It’s important to both of us.” She turns from me back to the florist. “So we’re all set then? Do you need any more information from my side?”

  “All set! You’re good to go.” The shop girl gives her a friendly smile.

  “Congratulations on your wedding, by the way.”

  “Thank you.” Laura colors slightly, her face glowing.

  “Shall we grab an early dinner?” Mom asks, looking from me to Laura.

  “What about Dad?” I ask.

  “He shouldn’t be far away. We dropped him off at the coffee shop around the corner before coming here.”

  “There’s a cute bistro just across the street where we can get a table,” Laura cuts in. “It’s a casual spot but the food is great.” She points across the street to a small restaurant with an outdoor patio in front.

  “That sounds like the perfect place for a little family reunion,” Mom says. “I’ll call your dad.”

  ***

  Twenty minutes later, we’re all seated on the restaurant’s outdoor patio. We’re still in the historic inner city and the red brick paved pedestrian area lies just on the other side of the wrought-iron fence outlining the patio. A casual-looking waitress, wearing a black t-shirt and black pants, her hair up in a high ponytail, is already delivering a first round of food—a mountain of crab legs to share as an appetizer—to the table.

  “Mmm, these are amazing,” I appreciatively crack a leg open and spear the juicy white meat out with my tiny fork. “God, I miss Boston seafood.”

  “This place is famous for its crab legs,” Laura says, likewise grappling with a leg.

  “Good choice, sweetie,” Dad says absentmindedly.

  “I will admit, we miss having easy access to all these fabulous restaurants in the city,” Mom notes.

  “But you’re happy in your new place, right?” I ask.

  “Absolutely. We were just tired of the stress of city living.”

  “I don’t know how you do it, kiddo,” Dad says. “New York is just such a crazy place. I wouldn’t be able to live there.”

  “Well, good thing we’re all in Boston at the moment and not New York,” Laura cuts in.

  “Yes, how is everything in the city, Cara?”

  “Yeah, all good with work? Your law firm stuff running smoothly?” Dad asks as he shakes a crab
leg at me and goes on. “Those pharmaceutical firms you’re taking on really are the worst! Kudos to you, kiddo. That’s a big job.”

  “Can we not talk about big bad pharma lawsuits right now?” Laura interjects. “I don’t want to think about depressing stuff with my wedding on the horizon.”

  “What’s the name of the big company? Santiam?” Dad carries on as if he hasn’t heard her and I see Laura’s face color slightly as she self-consciously looks down at her yellow dress.

  “Uh... Yeah. Santiam.” I don’t say anything else, hoping that’s the end of the conversation—which is clearly annoying Laura—who has already seemed slightly on edge with me ever since I showed up late this morning.

  But our parents aren’t about to let this topic go. “Oh honey, are you sure you should handle such a big case all by yourself?” Mom asks next.

  “It’s a lot,” I can’t help but admit. “I might actually hire a lawyer soon to help.”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful! So you’ll be Conley & Partners! You’re going to expand.”

  “That’s great, kiddo. We always knew you’d be a star in the big city.”

  “Of course we did. As soon as you went off to Harvard, we knew you had big things in your future.” Mom nods in agreement.

  I smile and open my mouth to say something but before I can, Laura speaks up. “Can we just leave all the Harvard and lawyer and ‘big star’ talk aside for a moment,” she snaps, slamming a crab leg onto her plate and sending butter sauce flying across her beautiful dress. “Shit,” she adds, seeing what she’s done.

  “Oh sweetheart, you need to be more careful! Now your dress is ruined.” Mom dabs her cloth napkin into her water glass and starts dabbing at Laura, who quickly waves her away.

  “It’s fine. What’s not fine is the fact that we are here to celebrate the biggest thing in my life—and all you want to talk about is Cara’s stupid law stuff!”

  “We’re just catching up, kiddo. We haven’t seen her in awhile, you know that.” Dad tries to soothe her but it’s no use.

  “So I have to be punished because Cara can’t be bothered to visit more often? This one time it’s supposed to be about me.” Tears are welling up in Laura’s eyes as she’s talking and her face is getting red and splotchy. “You can talk about Cara being some child prodigy, superstar attorney any other time. I’m just asking for this tiny slice of your time to celebrate the biggest day of my life. That’s all.”

  With that, she scoots her chair back, making an awful grating sound on the red bricks, and heads into the restaurant, storming past the young waitress, who looks after her in concern.

  “Oh boy, didn’t see that coming,” Dad says sadly, looking with concern from me to Mom.

  “That’s not our lighthearted Laura,” Mom says firmly, eyeing me. “She must be so stressed out with the wedding planning.”

  “Yeah, it’s a lot of pressure,” I reply, looking away briefly, not wanting to raise my parents’ suspicions that there might be some other incidents—like the one at the bridal shop—still grating on Laura.

  “Why don’t you go check on her?” Mom nudges me gently. “She must have just gone to the ladies’ room.”

  I push my chair back with a sigh and walk through the restaurant to the ladies’ room at the back. Laura is inside, alone, bent over the sink where she’s splashing cold water on her face.

  “You okay, sis?” I approach her hesitantly, laying a hand on her back.

  “I’ll be fine,” her voice is muffled and sounds stuffy as she continues to rub water on her face. “Can you hand me a paper towel?”

  I grab one and hand it over, watching as she dries her face. The red splotches are fading and she looks almost normal.

  “The parental units are worried,” I tell her, hoping to get her to smile. “Want to come back out?”

  “Yeah.” She shrugs.

  “And then what about afterwards we grab a drink? Just you and me. It seems like we have some sister stuff to sort out.”

  Laura nods, avoiding eye contact. When we get back to the table, Mom and Dad are smart enough not to ask any questions. They know that when it comes to “sister stuff” it’s best to let us deal with it on our own. We manage to make it through the rest of the meal without any other blowups—and an hour later, Laura and I make the short walk to my hotel, having decided it would be better to talk in peace and quiet there. If this devolves into a fresh round of tears, it’s best if we aren’t in public.

  “You want something?” I ask as I rummage through the minibar. “There’s wine, champagne, beer…”

  “Just a water, thanks.”

  I grab a small bottle of Evian for her and a miniature bottle of champagne for myself before I head over to the couch where she’s sitting curled up, her feet tucked under her and her yellow dress spread out around her.

  “So… What was that all about at dinner with Mom and Dad?”

  She sighs heavily. “Look, Cara. I love you. And I’m so proud of you and all of your accomplishments.”

  “Sounds like there’s a ‘but’ there.”

  “I mean, it wasn’t always easy growing up in your shadow. You were so driven and just excelled at everything you tried, from school to sports to…everything.”

  “So did you.”

  “Not in the same way. Not at the same level. Like… It’s going to sound so dumb. But I remember being so excited the day of my middle school graduation. I was so excited and proud because I was one of the top in the class. And then the same day we found out you’d been accepted into Harvard and of course, that became the story of the day.”

  “Oh… I’m sorry, Laura. I had no clue.”

  “After that, I just sort of stopped trying as hard.”

  I sit quietly, biting my lip. I had always assumed that Laura—pretty and popular—just sort of started to socialize more and care less about academics in high school. But maybe that wasn’t the only reason she had seemed to care less about school as she got older.

  “My wedding felt like it was finally going to be my time to shine,” she goes on, “but you’ve been stealing my thunder ever since you got here.”

  “Whoa, I don’t know about that?! I’ve basically just been your task rabbit, doing everything when, where, and how you ask me so I help you with the wedding prep.”

  “Look, I’m grateful for that. I am. But you know, when you whisk in here from the big city, it just becomes all about you. Susan and Bob couldn’t stop raving about you after they met you, Mom and Dad just want to hear about your business news, and even Jason couldn’t stop staring at you when we were in Vera’s.”

  “I’m not trying to steal the spotlight, Laura. I’m literally trying to do everything I can just to help you out right now.” I’m even giving up an amazing guy for you, I think to myself sadly.

  “I know. It’s just hard sometimes. I guess I just snapped at dinner.” She shrugs, looking down, her eyes welling up with tears yet again. I can’t stand the thought of her crying.

  “I’m glad you told me all of this,” I murmur, giving her arm a squeeze. “I’ll be careful to blend into the background.”

  “Well, don’t do that. I still want people to admire my amazing, successful, gorgeous sister.”

  “You just want them to admire you more, huh?” I can’t help but tease her as I give her a playful poke.

  “On my wedding day, at least,” she answers with a smile.

  “Fine, I guess I can understand that,” I roll my eyes in mock exasperation. “Truce?” I stretch my arms out for a hug.

  “Truce.”

  I put my glass of champagne down on the table and lean forward to give her a tight squeeze, wondering how long she’s been carrying this burden of feeling “less than” in her big sister’s shadow. I don’t have time to wonder long. Seconds later, the hotel-room phone rings, and I jump up from the couch and head to the bedside table to answer it.

  “Hello?”

  “Miss Conley?”

  “Yes.”
>
  “This is Paul at the front desk. There is a visitor in the lobby here to see you. A Mr. Levine. Shall I send him up?”

  My heart stops. At least he had the good sense to call up first instead of just knocking on the door, I think for a fleeting second. But he can’t be here now. Laura may already be suspicious and there is absolutely no way to explain his being at my hotel. And I’ve just smoothed things over with her. I don’t want him to ruin this moment.

  “Miss Conley?” The voice at the other end asks again, clearly wondering at my pause.

  “Oh, no thank you Paul. Not tonight. Thank you.” I hang up the phone firmly, hoping that my cryptic response got the message through.

  “What was that all about?” Laura’s face is still bright red from laughter and she’s smiling as I walk back to the couch.

  “Just housekeeping asking if I still wanted a turndown service for the night.”

  “Awww, you said no? I would have loved some chocolates.”

  “We can always order room service,” I say with a grin.

  “Ohhhh, I’d kill for a piece of chocolate cake. Where’s that menu?” She rummages through the various papers on the table and fishes out the room service menu while I calm my nerves. The turndown service excuse is sort of ludicrous, given that it’s already ten at night and turndown service would usually be done way earlier. But Laura doesn’t seem to notice. Thank god.

  “Oh yes, they have a triple-cream chocolate cake. Can we get a slice?”

  “How about two?” I smile. “I could use a slice too.”

  “Yes! Let’s do it. We never get sister quality time like this. We can just hang out and then fall asleep watching a movie or something. This fancy suite is big enough to hold two Conley girls for one night”