When We Were Young

by Jaclyn Goldis

  “So.” Lily sidled up to Joey, and the sisters clinked their glasses together. “I met Rand, Jo. It was weird.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “He’s going to stay the week after your wedding. He wants to get to know me.”

  “Good. He should. How do you feel about it, Lil?”

  Lily fiddled with her dress strap. “I dunno. Maybe two dads will be even cooler than one?”

  “Yeah. Totally. Twice as much annoying commentary on your life choices.”

  “Twice as many comments about my spending habits.”

  “Twice the betrayals.”

  “Twice the birthday presents!”

  They laughed together.

  “You know, we have the same laugh, Joey. Everyone says. Even Rand said.”

  “Well, we’re sisters,” said Joey. “You’re not getting rid of me.”

  “Of course I’m not,” said Lily. “I live with you now.”

  “Right,” said Joey. “Right.”

  “Hey, Joey, can I say something sisterly? I saw the painting at Edith’s party last night.”

  “Oh?” Joey had completely forgotten Lily would be there. She grabbed a seared ahi tuna crostini from a waiter scurrying by.

  “Joey, you still love Leo, don’t you?”

  Joey froze. She watched Grant hug G. She felt the presence of Leo somewhere behind her, closer to the house. “Of course I don’t. That’s ridiculous. I painted a painting I started a long time ago. I had such little time, I had to make do.”

  “Joey, it’s me. Real talk. Sister-to-sister. You don’t paint that face, those eyes, if you’re not in—”

  “Lil, I love you, but I need you to stop talking!”

  Lily’s eyes widened. “I don’t want to upset you.”

  “Well, you’re upsetting me!”

  “Okay, Jo.”

  “Thank you,” she said, just as the bandleader announced, “Now the bride and groom would like to say a few words.”

  It took a long moment for Joey to realize she was that bride. Grant was that groom. Shit. They’d divvied up speech responsibilities weeks ago. Rehearsal dinner to Joey: quick and dirty. Wedding generously assumed by Grant: long and duly praising of everyone who needed to be praised. This was her getting off easily. If only she’d composed something like she’d fully intended.

  “Ready, bride?” said a reappearing Grant, a tumbler of scotch in one hand and a pink drink in the other. “Watermelon martini.” He handed it to her and kissed her hard. She tasted scotch and happiness. The crowd began to cheer.

  * * *

  “…and obviously we want to thank Dot and Lawrence for being super hosts. What a spectacular evening! From the canapés to the calligraphy, no detail has gone unnoticed, and that’s courtesy of my impeccable future mother-in-law. And to my groom—” There was a smattering of applause. “To my groom.” Joey wove their fingers together. “I just want to say how lucky…you are to get to marry me!” Now the applause got louder. “I’m kidding. I’m the lucky one. I really am.”

  “Your parents,” whispered Grant, his smile not faltering.

  “Fuck,” she whispered back. “Now there are two other people we’d like to thank. They’ve welcomed Grant into our family. Most of all they keep things very…interesting. I’m talking about my parents.” Joey saw Scott by the ice sculpture and Bea not far behind, at a table by herself, holding up her margarita for the toast.

  “I’m talking about my dad and…my mom, who in particular has spent so much time and effort planning us a beautiful wedding. I can’t believe it’s tomorrow.”

  Joey’s throat choked with unexpected emotion. “Thanks, Mom.”

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Joey

  Florida

  2019

  Tables were being dismantled. Lily had changed into a bikini and was floating on twin swans in the pool with Sister #3. Grant’s groomsmen stood in a circle, doing some fraternity ritual that involved shots and a handshake.

  “Hey, stranger,” said Leo. He wore a light-gray sweater rolled up to his elbows with darker gray skinny jeans.

  “Hey,” she said. Then, “You know how kids are really happy when they run outside, and we think, like, that’s just because they’re kids?”

  Leo cocked his head. “Yeah?”

  “Well, I think everyone can be that happy if they run around barefoot outside. The happy isn’t because of being a kid, it’s because of being barefoot.”

  “They got the wrong hypothesis, eh?” Leo slipped off his high-tops and peeled off his socks. “You could be onto something.”

  “Noooo! Leo Winn, after all these years—barefoot. Can someone call the photographer?”

  “If I trust anyone to keep their grass clean, it’s your future in-laws.”

  “They probably had it power washed.”

  Leo smiled but didn’t banter back.

  Joey felt the world widen again around them. “Anyway, hey, thanks for coming.”

  “Wouldn’t miss it. Grant’s parents know how to throw a party, huh?”

  “That they do.” Joey took a sip from her glass. Grant had switched her to water, reminding her that tomorrow they’d take pictures that would live in infamy.

  She was getting married tomorrow. Despite all the hoopla, somehow she kept forgetting it. “So, where’s Rand?”

  “He went back to the hotel. I think this was a lot for him. But he’s surprised me with Lily, to be honest. I kind of figured that, since he’d known this whole time she was his daughter, he must not have minded to stay on the sidelines. But we talked about it this week. Did you know Bea used to send him pictures and updates?”

  “Really?”

  “Every few months, apparently.”

  “Huh. This was so much bigger than us.”

  “This was always so much bigger than us, Jonesey.”

  “And what about my mom and Rand?”

  “They talked for a while, but I don’t know more than that. I asked my dad if he still loves her.”

  “You did?”

  “He acted like I’d asked him the dumbest question in the world. He said, Son, I loved her a lot. More than I ever loved anyone, I suppose. But sometimes I wonder if I’m just not that good at loving.”

  “Well…I can see that.” Joey drank her water but only got a drip before the glass emptied.

  “Late-stage self-awareness.”

  Joey smiled. “I do wonder if they’ll go back to their old ways. Because how good is my mother at loving either? Maybe everyone should just be with who they want.”

  “Let the chips fall where they may?”

  “There’s no one left to hurt. They’ve already done it all. So maybe now they get to be happy. Their version of it.”

  “That’s generous, Jonesey.”

  “I’m just over my life hinging on their lives. I’m so over that.”

  “Amen.” Leo rubbed his scruffy chin.

  She wanted to tell him that she liked his adult scruff. And more than that—she liked the adult he’d become. But that seemed like a thing she wasn’t allowed to say.

  “You seem happy, Jonesey.”

  “Well…I am.”

  “That makes me happy.” Leo kissed her cheek, and his scruff tickled her chin. “I’m gonna head out. Good luck tomorrow. I’ll see you down the aisle.”

  Joey felt his imprint on her cheek. “Don’t let the groom overhear you. He’ll think you’re making inroads.”

  “Oh, Jonesey.” Leo gave her a sheepish smile. “You don’t have to worry about that. You set me straight. Friends, right?”

  She smiled faintly. “Friends.”

  “Get some sleep, huh?” he said.

  And Joey watched him fade from her sight one more time.

  * * *

  “All right, babe. I need sleep.” Grant held the Navajo chief’s blanket in his arms.

  “Why do you have that? Your mom will kill you if you get it dirty.”

  “My mom gave it to us. Apparently it wi
ll protect our union. She got the chief to bless it or something.”

  Lily took it from him. “This will be great for a photo shoot. Can I keep it in my room?”

  “Lil,” said Joey. “About your room.”

  “Eh. We’ll talk about it after the wedding,” said Grant. “Let’s get outta here.”

  “But it’s bad luck for the bride to see the groom before the wedding,” said Scott, materializing from inside.

  Joey hadn’t spoken to him since, when? The dinner of insanity? She realized now he’d been hovering all evening. He’d bobbed his pale head as she’d rubbed the assembly line of bellies belonging to all her pregnant New York girlfriends. He’d lingered in the backdrop as she and G had hugged for ages.

  “I’m not superstitious.” Joey gave her father a brief hug.

  “Wait, he’s right, babe,” said Grant. “You’re not supposed to sleep at our place tonight.”

  “Great,” said Joey. “Where do you suggest I sleep?”

  “At home, of course,” said her father. “In your bedroom one last time.”

  “We watched Father of the Bride again a few weeks ago,” said Bea, walking up, swatting at a fat bee buzzing around her floral crown. “Your dad thinks he’s Steve Martin.”

  “I don’t think I’m Steve Martin.”

  Joey’s eyelids fluttered. “I’ll sleep wherever. Someone just give me a bed.”

  “You have a bed,” said her father. “You always have a bed at home.”

  “Well, I’m off to my home,” said Bea.

  “Where’s that?” asked Grant.

  “A friend is spending the summer in Tuscany. She’s a potter. She has a cute little house on Jog. I’ve been painting up a storm. Rediscovering myself.”

  “Well, why don’t you try discovering yourself quickly?” said Lily. “I think I speak for all of us when I say we’d like our parents to check out of Lost and Found.” She strutted off. “Come on, Grant!”

  “Lil,” said Scott.

  Lily glanced over her shoulder. She shook her head. She kept walking.

  “That’s my cue.” Grant kissed Joey—quick and firm. She tried to hold on to him longer, tighter, but he was like quicksand. “See you when—”

  “See you when,” she said.

  “See you tomorrow, JoJo,” said her mother. “Well, actually…” She checked her watch. “It’s today. You’re getting married today.”

  “See you,” said Joey.

  Her father was quiet in the car. A Post-it in his script was adhered to the dashboard. It read, Keep the faith. The most amazing things happen right when you’re about to give up all hope. Tina Turner played on Sirius.

  “I’m sorry, JoJo,” her father finally said.

  “I know.”

  “I really am. I’m not perfect. I think kids like to think their parents are perfect.”

  Joey pulled at the suffocating seat belt. When it snapped back, it was like being strangled. She unfastened the buckle. “Maybe. But your version of not perfect affected us all.”

  “I know.” Her father turned down Tina. “I have so many regrets.”

  Joey jangled her evil eye charm around in her pocket. “I really don’t get one thing though. Why did you stay with Mom? It almost seems like you had zero…” She didn’t say what she wanted to say to her father.

  “You can say it. Self-respect.”

  A beeping noise blasted through the car. Her father didn’t demand that Joey refasten her belt.

  “Self-respect. Yeah, Dad.”

  “Here’s the thing, Joey. We were taught that love is perfect. Love comes in this neat little box. It’s wrapped in this perfect bow. It’s fairy tales and fireworks, right?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, that’s not my experience with love, Joey. My experience is that love has all these ugly little lumps in it. True love is when you acknowledge the lumps and love someone anyway. It’s when you love someone to the end even if it’s not the way they love you. I will love your mother until the end. And if she can’t forgive me, I’ll have to live with it. But I have hope I can keep on having lumpy love with your mother.”

  Her father turned off the ignition. The beeping stopped. Into the quiet, Joey whispered, “What am I supposed to do, Dad?”

  Her father opened the car door, careful not to swipe the Total Gym that had been collecting cobwebs in the garage since the eighties. He patted her hand. “Sweetheart, the thing about lumps is that you never get to plan for them.”

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Joey

  Florida

  2019

  It went so fast. Everyone said it would.

  There was the fawning over her. The commentary. Doesn’t she look stunning? Daphne, the rose petals are for the ceremony. You don’t get to scatter them now! Okay, let’s fix the eyelashes. Close your eyes. When you open them, you’re going to see a bride in the mirror!

  There were Joey and G appraising their makeup in the mirror. Joey felt the prettiest version of herself, which had been the goal: her makeup a natural glow, with a few fake lashes for just a bit of drama; her hair in a deep side part and relaxed waves she’d done herself; her flowy boho dress with its unusual bell sleeves in Chantilly lace and its neckline a twinge more plunging than she usually veered, with a hand-beaded, zigzag cutout design.

  “You’re so beautiful, Joey,” said G.

  “Thanks, G,” said Joey. “You’re looking gorgeous yourself!”

  Bea joined them at the mirror. “You’re a radiant bride, JoJo. We’ve got it going on, Bezas ladies.”

  And they all smiled at their reflections, the three of them in a line.

  There was the first look in the atrium. It was pouring outside. The wedding planner said it might let up for the ceremony. They would wait another hour, but then they had to set up the chairs. The library was a beautiful place for a ceremony. Just last week even, a couple chose the library over the garden, despite the good weather!

  Joey walked to Grant, whose back was to her. She tapped him on the shoulder. Oh God, those Baby Bear Eyes. He said he loved her so much. He said she looked resplendent. He actually used that word. Resplendent. Perhaps he’d taken a spin through the thesaurus that morning to give her something more meaningful than amazing. He said sun was overrated. He made her twirl.

  There were fifty glasses of water. Perhaps that was an exaggeration, but water was thrust at her from all directions. From Bea, from the event planner, from G, from various aunts of Grant’s, from all the pregnant New York girls. There was Grant’s cousin Alexia—the one who never smiled and decided she didn’t want to walk down the aisle after all. The event planner made all the changes. She communicated the changes to all the players. Then she communicated the communication of the changes to Joey. A few minutes later, a scowling Alexia told Joey that she would indeed walk down the aisle.

  There were one hundred million pictures. There were pictures with Grant’s hands on her face, with his hands circling her waist, with Lily’s arm on her shoulder, with her parents’ hands slung across her back from either side. Hands and arms. Touch. Far too much touch. There was, Get closer and Touch your cheek to his and Now throw your arms up in a silly pose and That’s not so silly, try to be actually silly. There was the event planner who crept up as the photographer swapped lenses. I’m sorry, but we’ll have to do it indoors. You’ll see, it will be beautiful.

  There was the ketubah signing with Grant’s childhood rabbi, who kept calling them the Abrewmans. There was the marriage contract with a giant tree in watercolors that bled over the signature lines. There was Joey’s hand moving. Signing her name to it. There was the clatter of a pen. There was Siya scrawling her signature. There was applause. There was Grant checking to see it was her before putting down her veil. Just making sure it’s not Lily I’m marrying!

  To the laughter that followed, Joey felt the veil bind her face. She couldn’t breathe. Where was the oxygen in this building?

  There was a wave of peop
le into the library. The library she’d never been inside because it never rained long in Florida. But yes, she got it—it was a spectacular place to get married. There was her father at her side, her mother at her other. Her father said, I can’t believe it’s time. Her mother said, I’m so happy for you, JoJo.

  There was Alexia, complaining loudly to the event planner that her bouquet wasn’t as robust as the other ones. There was the event planner pushing Alexia down the aisle anyway. There was Siya lifting her foot clad in a Manolo up in a ta-da before starting her walk. Joey waved, feeling like she was sending off a child to her first day at school instead of sending her best friend down her aisle. Next came Lily in her feathered gown, fluffing her train behind her as she began to strut.

  There was the music, the soulful Hebrew song of which Joey didn’t understand a word but always made her emotional at other people’s weddings. The cue. That’s you, said the event planner. Her father said, Congratulations, my darling. Her mother said, Congratulations to you too, dear.

  Joey was heading down the aisle now. There was a chuppah draped in bougainvillea. She loved bougainvillea. How had her mother known?

  There was Grant at the end of the aisle. There was G waving from her seat. There was the Lilly Pulitzer Fan Club—a schizophrenic lineup of pastel beside Siya’s vivid-yellow gown and Lily’s cobalt one. There was Rand sitting stiffly in a middle row.

  Joey kept walking. She was afraid she wasn’t smiling. But it was the most unnatural feeling to walk down this aisle. Everyone said, You won’t notice a thing besides Grant. But they were wrong. She was noticing everything, and what she noticed was that Leo wasn’t there.

  The realization smacked her the moment the aisle ran out.

  Grant reached out his arm. There was a moment where no one moved. Then she realized, this was her cue to perform. She had to circle Grant seven times. Why? She had no clue. Something biblical, maybe. She began to circle him. One. Where was Leo? Two. Did he decide he couldn’t come? Three. But why? Four. Why did she care? Five. Maybe he got lost. Six. But Rand was here. Seven. She was going to faint.