by Rae Matthews
Bash looks at me, his eyes finally calming down. Then walks back over to my car and leans back on the hood.
“I guess it’s just that I really like you, and the thought of him telling you to call it quits before we really get to know each other pisses me off. A lot. He shouldn’t have done that.” He speaks so slow and calmly that I find myself hanging on each word.
“I like you a lot too, and I really look forward to seeing you more and more. I know our lives are busy and complicated, but you know not everything worthwhile in life comes easy.” I say, walking towards him.
He pauses for a few moments before speaking. “My life is very complicated. I would love to call you my girlfriend, but I’m not sure if I can give you the attention you deserve right now.”
I’m a little torn up by what that means. It’s obviously that this is something that has been on his mind, so I’m not going to push the issue right now. When he is ready to tell me more about what his complications are, he will. I hope.
“Look, I like you, and you like me. Let’s just slow things down a little bit and see where this goes. I promise not to be a clingy twat, and you promise not to be a jackass.”
He reaches out and grabs my arm, pulling me close to him. He looks deeply into my eyes for a moment before kissing me in affirmation.
THE NEXT FEW WEEKS PASSED quickly, and they were better than anything I could have hoped for. Bash and I competed in the cornhole tournament together as planned. We didn’t win, but I’m still really glad we played, as it gave my friends a chance to meet and get to know Bash. They of course loved him; he was sweet and funny, and just enough of a pervert to even impress the guys.
We also managed to find some time for a few movie nights together at my place, followed by some major cuddling, more talking, and even a little making out, but I was committed to no sex! We had both agreed to scale it back a little and focus on getting to know one another, rather than focusing on the sex stuff. But it has been hard as hell, and it regularly takes everything I’ve got to not just rip his clothes off and jump him when he kisses me.
The one thing that helps is that I truly love listening to him talk about his life and his family, especially George. It’s sad that I hadn’t seen George again since the incident at the bar. Bash tells me that he is still too embarrassed to come back. He even tried to explain to George that all was forgiven, but he still won’t budge on the matter. George has banned himself from the Broken Jukebox. I find it a little odd that he hasn’t talked about Emma and what her story is yet. Then again, I haven’t asked either, but only because I don’t want to push him about it. It is obviously a touchy subject that needs to come out on its own time.
Other than the question about Emma, I haven’t really found anything wrong with him. But it really gets hard for me to figure anything out when he has had to run off at a moment’s notice to help Emma. This chick is really needy, so it is no wonder that she can’t find her own man to help her out with whatever it is that Bash does for her. However, I suppose that is also another thing that I really like about Bash. He is so helpful to someone in need of a friend, so it is safe to assume that if I really needed him at my side, he would be there. But how much time do I give it before I say enough is enough? I need some answers soon, before one of the things that I admire about him becomes one of the things that I hate about him.
A few days ago, I got a text from Bash inviting me to a Fall BBQ at Jesse’s house this weekend. He claims that it’s just a random gathering of friends for one last BBQ before the snow comes, but somehow I feel like it is more for his boys to get their chance to judge me and give the proverbial thumbs up or down. I have been wondering often if this Emma chick will be there. It could be the perfect opportunity for me to hint at the fact that it might be time for her to go off and find a man of her own.
On the day that Bash found out that Jesse had already given me a ‘warning’, I made him swear that he wouldn’t say anything to Jesse about my little slip, and he promised that he wouldn’t. I guess I will find out this weekend if he kept his word. If he didn’t, that could already be a point against me since Jesse had sworn me to secrecy.
God, I feel like I’m back in high school. Then suddenly I stop to realize that wow, I really think I’m falling in love with Bash. I really and truly care what his friends think of me, and that hardly ever happens. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not some douche who goes around in life not giving a shit what people think; this was different in every way. I’m actually afraid that they won’t like me, and that Bash will have to make a choice. If it came to that, I’m sure that he would of course pick his friends over some chick he has only known for two months.
Shit, damn, fuck a French whore, what the hell am I gonna wear? I can’t look too slutty, especially if the elusive Emma is there. But I don’t need to look like a schoolteacher, either, I remind myself. We will probably be outside most of the time, and it’s getting colder, so I have to dress cute but warm. I run to my closet and start pulling out everything I have. Nothing! I have nothing acceptable to wear. It’s as if I have been robbed, and all they took were my clothes. There is only one thing I can do.
Megan and Sadie were at my house within 20 minutes, claiming to Matt and Will that it was life or death and that they had come, and that is why they had to duck out on them. They came prepared with a full tank of gas and our must-have playlist required for any successful road trip. We were heading to the Mall of America in Bloomington, Minnesota. The mall in La Crosse was nice, but the Mall of America was shopping heaven. We didn’t get up there much since it was nearly three hours away, but this was a fashion emergency. And what the hell, it was an excuse for a girl’s day. It had been a long while since the three of us had time to hang out without the boys around.
We hit the road, and in no time we are a party on wheels. As we drive there, we sing as loud as we can to some of our favorite songs, then gossip when we are not rocking it out, all the way to the mall. By the time we get there, we are ready to power-shop because I am a woman on a mission.
The Mall of America can be pretty overwhelming to the weak-hearted shopper. It’s like four million square feet featuring like 500-plus stores, a theme park, a giant underground aquarium, a movie theater, nightclubs, restaurants, miniature golf, and can’t forget about the wedding chapel. In case it’s hard to imagine just how massive this mall is, thirty-two Boeing 747’s could fit inside the building. Needless to say, I think I made the right choice of venue in pursuit of the perfect outfit to impress Bash’s friends and Emma.
We rush into the mall and hit every clothing store imaginable. When we are starting to run out of stores and energy, I decide to give Farm Boy Farm Girl a try. It is not really my normal style of clothing, but I don’t really have a choice. I’m running out of options, and Megan and Sadie are running out of insults for the innumerable outfits that I have already tried on.
We pass by the racks in the store, and Megan comes across a cute brown and teal flannel shirt. “Sasha, how about this? It has pops of color, you can adjust the cleavage level at any time, we could go back and get those long-legged boots we saw at The Boot Barn, and you can buy a pair of medium wash distressed jeans. It’s perfect!” she squeals.
She is so excited that I almost don’t have the heart to tell her that she may be losing brain function due to lack of food. As I start to correct her, I take another look at the shirt and try to imagine it. Now I know what you’re thinking. Flannel? Really? But yes, Flannel. The duh, you dumbass light bulb comes on overhead and it hits me like a bat out of hell. Yes! I have been concentrating on finding the perfect outfit to show off my assets and still stay warm. I should have been concentrating on staying warm and only highlighting my assets. I will look hot and sweet, all at once.
“Megan! Yes! Oh my god, Yes! I can add a brown jacket over it, and maybe add one of those scarves, too.” I say, gesturing towards a nearby rack.
“Finally! Can we go get some freaking food now?” Sadie inte
rrupts, exhaling a sigh of relief and giving us both a smile.
After four hours of trying on countless outfits, we were basically done with a capital ‘D’, but the initial excitement of finding this perfect outfit was cut short by the realization that we had not eaten since we left La Crosse, other than a few junky snacks in the car. We quickly race around to the other stores to pick up the rest of my outfit, and then search for a food court. When we are at the Mall of America, we always eat the same thing. First a slice of pizza from Sbarro, then a Cinn-a-bon, and last we grab a pretzel from Auntie Anne’s for the road. I’m not sure what started this little tradition of ours, but no matter what, we always make sure to do it.
As we sit and eat our hodgepodge meal, Sadie mentions that as long as we are here, she wants to look at a few other stores, now that the outfit crisis is over.
“Of course. Are we looking for anything special?” I ask.
“Well, I wanted to stop into Fredrick’s of Hollywood for some lingerie,” she replies, keeping her head down.
“Oooooh, is Will gonna get lucky tonight?” I tease.
“Nope. I just want something on hand for when he really deserves it, and you know the selection in La Crosse sucks.” She responds in a monotone, almost bored voice.
Megan and I look at each other. Something is up. Sadie is never this quite or uninterested about sexing it up with Will.
“Sadie, is everything ok with you and Will?” Megan asks gently.
Sadie looks up and smiles. “Yeah, everything is great. Why?”
“Well, you’re acting a little odd about the lingerie, looking at your food and not adding any snarky sex jokes,” Megan tells her.
“Oh, no. That, no, I’m just really hungry. We are fine, I promise.”
Megan and I are not convinced, but we let it go for the time being. She has a whole mall to hide in if we push too hard, so I figure that the car would be a better place to ambush her for more intel.
As we walk into Fredrick’s of Hollywood, our inner ten-year old selves come out. We point and giggle and wonder who in the hell would wear some of this stuff. We ask Sadie what kind of lingerie she is looking for and offer up some choices for her to pick from. She declines our suggestions of a mesh, open-chested apron that claims to be a teddy, and a micro, fishnet-looking strappy chemise wannabe. It looked like something out of that sci-fi movie, The Fifth Element. Remember that white, strappy thing they put on her when she woke up out of that re-generation tube?
After a few more good laughs, we wandered into the bridal section. Megan and I were about to turn around when Sadie started looking at one of the racks. Megan and I of course look at each other and wonder what is going on here.
“Um, Sadie,” Megan says while clearing her throat.
“Um, Megan,” Sadie mutters back.
“Do you have something you want to tell us?” I joke.
Sadie looks between us and automatically knows that she is busted. You can practically see her brain spinning, working as hard as it can to try and come up with some kind of reasonable explanation for why she is still over here in the bridal section.
“Fuck! We promised we weren’t gonna tell anyone until it was done,” she finally answers.
Megan and I start jumping for joy and screaming, right there in the middle of the store. Sadie joins in and starts shouting, “I’m getting married, I’m getting married!” over and over again. Only after a saleswoman comes over to congratulate Sadie and then asks us politely to shut the hell up do we finally calm down enough to get some details out of her.
“So when did he ask, and why in the hell would you agree not to tell us? There is so much planning to do, and you definitely cannot do it all on your own, so why are you talking about it like you are just baking a cake, and like you were just gonna tell is when it’s all done? We get to be there, Right?” Megan rattles off, barely breathing as she looks for confirmation.
Sadie had tried to interrupt Megan several times, but failed. Megan is in love with this stuff, so it’s really hard to get her attention once she has gone into party planning mode.
Megan continues right along, not missing a beat. “You have to tell us the date and we’ll need to get dresses and flowers and music and-”
“No! No to everything. We are not doing the big wedding thing,” Sadie says, finally grabbing Megan and looking directly into her eyes.
Megan stands there in shock, and all we can do is wait for her brain to catch up.
“Awesome, small wedding. We can plan that. Small, elegant yet informal, yes! I love it,” Megan proclaims.
“Uh, no. No to that, too,” Sadie emphasizes.
Then it hits me.
“Sadie? When are you planning on getting married?” I blurt out.
Sadie looks at me and smiles. Megan looks back and forth from Sadie to me, wide-eyed and ready to explode if she doesn’t hear the answer soon.
“Friday.” Sadie finally professes.
“What!” Megan and I say in unison.
“Friday? Are you freaking kidding us? Were we even going to be invited?” I shout, the hurt evident in my tone.
Sadie starts to turn red and tries to walk away, but Megan moves quickly to block her exit. She is so not going to leave us hanging like that. Sadie tries to get around us, moving from side to side until she realizes she has nowhere to go. With Megan on one end me on the other, the crotch less panties display to my left and the push up bras to the right, Sadie was alone in the middle. She was trapped.
“Ok, fine! No, we weren’t going to tell anyone! We are just going to go to the courthouse and have a very quick civil ceremony, and then we were going to go to dinner,” she confesses.
Megan and I remain standing in place, beyond shocked. We had been talking about their weddings for years. Megan and Sadie both knew that it was only a matter of time before they married Matt and Will. We had even made binders and vision boards of ideas. So for Sadie not to tell anyone, not even us, that she was getting married was more than a punch to the heart.
“I’m sorry, Will and I talked about it for hours, and we decided that rather than spend all that money and time planning, we had waited long enough now so why not just do it? We thought about having you both there,” she pauses as if the words were stuck in her throat. “But I couldn’t pick between you two as my maid of honor, so we thought we would just ask two random people to be our witnesses and just go get it done.”
“We are going, we don’t give two shits who your maid of honor is, and we just want our friend to be happy,” I say and then walk away, unable to contain my emotions any longer.
FRIDAY MORNING ARRIVED BRIGHT AND early, and as we all started to wake up, we begin to regret the quickie bachelorette party we threw last night at my apartment. The room is still spinning, and I can smell remnants of the Jell-o shots, Reddi-Whip, beer, and who knows what else.
We chose to have a sex toy party in honor of our new bride, and after the product demonstration, things got a little out of hand. However, that may be the understatement of the year judging by my still-foggy brain. I have a vague memory of Betty coming over and joining us. She may or may not have drank from a penis straw, and possibly could have had Anal Eaze on her lips. I really can’t be sure. I think it was a dream, but I’m having a hard time telling the difference. I shake my head. It had to have been a dream. As I get up, I make a mental note to apologize to Betty later for the noise.
I need to wet my mouth because I feel like a cat shit in it. “What in the fuck did we drink last night?” I ask, but all I get back are a few groans in response and more questions in my mind. It seems last night is a bit of a blur for all of us. Note to self, bachelorette parties the night before the wedding should consist of movies, limited bottles of wine, and pizza.
We all slowly wake up and manage to get down some water and Advil to help with the headaches that were surely on their way. Sadie’s phone starts to ring, and when she answers, it’s Will wishing her a good morning and telling her how
much he loves her and how he can’t wait to see her at two o’clock today. It’s so cute, but my head is still woozy and the display makes me want to puke.
Crap. Two o’clock today is going to come fast. I make myself run off to the kitchen to make some bacon, eggs, and toast for the girls and I. Because everyone knows, there is nothing like a greasy, carb-filled breakfast to ward off the start of a massive hangover. Before you know it, we are fed, dressed, alert, and ready to get our friend hitched. After some much needed beauty help from the local salon, that is.
On our way to the salon, I shoot Bash a text reminding him about today, and that he should be at the courthouse by one thirty so that we can take some pictures. I was so glad when Bash agreed to be my date for the informal wedding. I really didn’t want to be the fifth wheel in the all of the pictures.
At the salon we enjoy a few glasses of champagne and gossip with the ladies about the day while they do our hair and nails. We are having so much fun that we almost lose track of time and have to rush to get our dresses on before heading downtown. After quick stop at the nearest florist to pick up a few flowers, we are looking smoking hot and ready to go.
Sadie was wearing the cute white prom dress we made her buy because we’re not about to let her get married in jeans and a random shirt. Plus, the dress looked amazing on her. It also wasn’t too much for a courthouse wedding: knee length, off-white, and strapless, with subtle hints of glitter to add a little flare.
Megan and I opted to wear simple black dresses. Nice enough to appear elegant and classy without making us look out of place.
The afternoon went by so fast that it hardly seemed real that our Sadie and Will were married. The judge performed a quick ceremony, and Matt and Megan signed the certificate as witnesses. Bash helped out with pictures before, during, and after the ceremony. We decided to head down to Riverside Park for a few more pictures of our bride and groom. Megan insisted that Sadie will thank her in years to come, however I would argue that it was more because Megan didn’t want the wedding to be over yet.
