The Two-Night One-Night Wedding
Page 7
“So did anyone get a dress?” Jeremy asks.
“My mother. Two. A yellow one and a lavender one. And the thing is, she originally said she wanted blue. She just bought the two fucking dresses so that your mother wouldn’t. Oh, and my niece is in the wedding, and now so is my sister. After she realized everyone else was, she didn’t want to be left out. So, now on top of everything else, I have to choose a style of dress that will accommodate a very pregnant woman.”
I motion for the bartender. “Bring her another one, please.”
“No, if I have another, I can’t drive.” She frowns as her phone lights up and she grabs it from the bar where she left it. “Shit. This is a text from Ashley asking for Jayne’s number. What do I do?”
“Relax. Ignore it. Do the shot, I’ll drive home.” I take the phone from her hands and set it down. The bartender sets up the shot and Holly doesn’t hesitate, she downs it, no shudder this time.
The three of us sit there in a moment of silence. I don’t know what else to say, and Jeremy chomps on his burger, staying out of it completely.
Holly’s shoulders drop and she slouches in her seat. Her rigid lips turn upward as she releases a giggle and the tension leaves her body. She reaches for my beer and claims it as her own.
“Know what? I don’t even care.” She retrieves her phone from where I moved it over to on the bar and types.
“What did you just do?” I’m afraid to ask.
“I sent Ashley Jayne’s number. Red, silver, bronze. I don’t give a shit. If they want to argue over my wedding, they can go right ahead.” She polishes off the beer, and grabs a steak fry from my plate. “But isn’t this day supposed to be about me? I mean, I don’t even have a dress yet, and the wedding is a month and a half away.” She stops and points the half-eaten fry at us. “Oh my God, you know what I just thought of. We should have one of those chocolate fountains at our wedding, but instead of chocolate, it should be a Fireball fountain, and instead of bananas and strawberries on sticks, we should have shot glasses on sticks.”
“You don’t need to worry, I’ll go dress shopping with you,” I say, as she steals another fry from my plate. “I read online that having different opinions makes it much harder for a bride to come to a decision.”
“Oh geez, here we go. Time for the Facts of Matthew. Um, here’s a fact—the groom does not go dress shopping with the bride,” she says with her mouth full. “These fries are so freaking good. I haven’t eaten all day.” She moves my plate closer to her. “So, Fireball fountain? Yes? No? Is that even a thing? If not, we should get a patent. Jeremy, what do you think?”
“Um, about a Fireball fountain? You should do it.” He shrugs, trying to hold back a laugh. Holly motions for a fourth shot and starts to sketch out the details of a whisky-spewing fountain on a cocktail napkin for Jeremy to appraise.
Who would have ever guessed that planning a wedding would be this stressful? Thank God our engagement is a short one. I can’t wait for this to all be done and be boarding a plane for the honeymoon. Wait a second… the honeymoon. How has that slipped by us? We’ve been so busy with everything else, we forgot all about the best part.
I know Maui is Holly’s dream location. We’re saving more than enough on the wedding that I think that’s something we can definitely make happen. Tonight after Holly passes out, and at the rate she’s going, that shouldn’t take long, I’ll start looking into it. Maybe I could even surprise her. The only thing I need to do is check with HR about vacation time. But I have plenty of time stored up, so there shouldn’t be any problems there. And Holly’s job is flexible; her boss is great. He had a bottle of champagne sent to the house by messenger when we got engaged. I don’t foresee any issues there.
Aloha oe. Paradise, here we come.
Yes. This is exactly what’s needed. I’ll book us a suite overlooking the ocean. Holly can wear a coconut bra, we’ll eat pineapple off each other’s bodies, and make love all night until the sun rises. This plan can’t fail.
A Hawaiian honeymoon, there’s no way to screw that up.
I STEP INTO the third gown and pull it up to my chest, holding it while Jayne zips. The top has a strapless fitted bodice with beaded lace applique, and a tulle overlay cascades from the waist into a full princess-style ball gown. The fit is amazing, and the voluminous style is everything I always dreamed my dress would be. Cinderella, watch out.
“Holly, oh my God, you look beautiful. This is so the one.” Jayne covers her mouth and takes a few steps back to admire me in the white gown of my dreams. It’s a Tuesday morning, and David’s Bridal is empty except for me and Jayne. After the last fiasco, I decided dress shopping in smaller increments was a necessity.
I carefully step onto the little podium in front of the trifold mirror and swoosh the full gown from side to side, turning for the full effect. Sandra, the saleswoman who thankfully holds no ill will over our disastrous first attempt at dress shopping, adds a rhinestone-encrusted belt around my waist, taking the beautiful gown from a ten to an off-the-charts twelve. Which just also happens to be the size of the dress. I’ve put on a few love pounds, pounds that I didn’t realize had snuck up on me, being I’m so in love. Guess my mom was right about my size after all, but I also think David’s runs small. At least, that’s what I’m telling myself.
“It is the one. This is definitely the one.” I can’t take my eyes off the gorgeous sparkly gown. “Grab my phone and take a few pictures.” With an imaginary bouquet of flowers in hand, I practice my wedding day smile while Jayne clicks away.
“I’m so glad you asked me to come shopping, just me and you. It means so much to me that I got to be here when you found your dress.” Jayne keeps snapping pictures, getting me and the dress from every angle. “And I’m sorry how the other day went. Ashley is such a….” She grunts, not finishing the thought, and deflects. “Your mom though, freaking hysterical. I could watch her all day. I wanted Mrs. Daniels to try on another dress so bad just to see how many your mom would buy.”
“You know my mom is not going to wear either one of those dresses she bought, and will return them for the blue one.”
“I do know that.” Jayne laughs. “That’s what made it so great. Your mom clearly liked the blue dress, but bought the yellow and purple ones just so Mrs. Daniels wouldn’t.”
“I know, and then the next day when I tried apologizing, Mrs. Daniels kept waving it off and telling me how the mother of the bride should always get first choice in color. I’m just glad that after this wedding is over, the two families will probably never be in the same room again. Matthew and I have already discussed it. We’ll do Thanksgiving with one side and Christmas with the other.”
“What about when you guys have kids?”
“We’ll have two parties.”
“What about the baby shower?” Jayne challenges, lifting a brow.
“Fine. One more time, but that won’t be for a long time. A very long time.” We’re rushing the wedding, but we will not be rushing into kids. I want to enjoy at least two full years, possibly longer, with my husband before stepping a toe into those waters.
“Speaking of showers.” Jayne unclips a veil from a nearby rack and straightens out the lace before handing it to me. “I received an interesting call from Ashley the other day.”
“Oh?” I act surprised. I was waiting for this conversation. Fearing it. The few times I had spoken to Ashley, she hadn’t brought it up, and I certainly didn’t ask.
“Let me just start by saying, I don’t like her.” Jayne holds up her stretched out hand to emphasize the sentiment. “But, she does love you. And so do I. So, for the sake of our mutual love toward you, we decided that she will be in charge of your bridal shower, and I will be in charge of your bachelorette party. Also, we will happily wear whatever color you, the bride, choose.” Jayne inhales. “Whether you want to stick with the gorgeous red color you originally wanted, or you want to do some tacky-ass gold color, we’ll be fine with your decision.” She exhale
s and grits her teeth. “Thoughts?”
“I’m very touched that you two care so much and were able to work that out.” I can only imagine how that conversation really went. The veil is in place. It’s long and clings to the dress. Not the look I was going for. I want something shorter, with more pouf to it.
“Oh, wait, technically she and Robin are going to do your shower, but we both know that Ashley will be the one in charge.” Jayne takes the long veil from me and replaces it with a poufy one, as if reading my mind. “So, you just tell me what color you want, and I will start trying them on. Red, gold… red. Whatever you want.”
“I choose red.”
“Thank fucking God.” Jayne pumps a victory fist into the air. “Can I be there when you tell her? Or maybe it’s better if you tape it so I can watch it over and over again.” She laughs vindictively. “I’m sorry, but Ashley really is a crazy bitch, and if I am ever anything like her, I want you to tell me.”
“You’re everything like her,” I say. I have no qualms telling Jayne that she is everything like the loud, opinionated woman she can’t stand. I even laugh at the twisted face Jayne makes at my revelation.
“You’re lucky I know when you’re joking.” Jayne points at me before scooting toward the racks of bridesmaid dresses. “I’m gonna go grab a few to try on, and you can tell me yes or no.”
“Is this dress the one?” Sandra asks, returning with a pair of white satin pumps in hand and placing them on the floor for me to slip into. “Or should I go grab a few others?”
I glance over my shoulder and lower my voice. “This is the one, but can you do me a favor?” Sandra nods and leans in. “My future sisters-in-law are meeting me here at noon to dress shop. Can we just pretend I wasn’t here already today? Would you be okay, letting me try on these same three dresses again and acting like it’s the first time?”
“Not a problem.” She winks. “This isn’t the first time I’ve gotten a request like this. You’d be surprised how often these situations arise.”
“Thank you.”
The shoes are a perfect fit and the added height slims me ever so slightly. Dress, check. Shoes, check. Sandra unzips the gown and helps me step out of the hoop before she goes off to help Jayne get set up in a dressing room of her own.
Sliding back into my jeans is depressing. Regular clothes look so plain and boring after you’ve spent the last hour trying on spectacular white gowns. Luckily, I’ll get to do this all over again in a couple hours. I examine my widened hips in the mirror. Not enough time to go on a hard-core diet and lose ten pounds, but I need to be careful not to gain any more either.
I toss my lifeless hair up in a clip. Ugh. So boring without a veil. Damn, if this is how I feel after just trying the dress on, how will I feel after the wedding, when the dress comes off for good? But I guess that’s why they invented honeymoons. A week for the bride and groom to wear nothing at all. I smile and watch my reflection turn pink in the mirror.
The honeymoon. We never even discussed it yet. Hmm. With the cost of our wedding being much lower than anticipated, and my parents buying the gown, maybe we can do somewhere extravagant for the honeymoon. Matthew has always wanted to go to Italy. Could we pull that off?
Oh my God. Maybe I could surprise him?
“I’M FUCKED.”
I stopped at Kent’s house on the way home from work because I needed to figure out how to explain this latest mess to Holly. Why? Why must there always be some clusterfuck of shit going on?
“You have six days off,” Kent repeats the story back to me. “The day of the wedding and the five days before the wedding.”
“Yes, and they can’t bend at all. They said I’m lucky to have gotten that.” Vacation requests need to be submitted months in advance. “I had to plead to have the Saturday of the wedding off. They were only going to give me Monday through Friday. And I can’t even suggest that we switch the wedding to the weekend before, because there’s no way in hell I’m getting that off.”
“You’re right. You’re fucked.” Kent chuckles.
“It gets worse. I received a call from the building manager. Our apartment won’t be ready until September. That means five more months at Mom and Dad’s.”
“Yikes.” Kent’s brows arch up. “But it’s not that bad, living there, is it?”
“No, it’s pretty bad,” I admit. “The girls are in and out of the house all day long.” Having my brother Patrick and his large family right across the street can make for a very full house at times. “Holly usually does most of her work from home, but she feels weird being at the house all day, so she goes to Dunkin’ Donuts to work on her laptop, then comes home wired from a caffeine overdose that we can’t even put to good use because sex is nearly impossible thanks to that squeaky fucking bed of yours.”
“My squeaky bed? What are you talking about? Why the hell would you guys be using my old bed? Mom and Dad said they were gonna get rid of that thing. You should have used the one in Patrick’s room. That one is almost brand new, they replaced it a few months ago for when the girls sleep over.”
“We didn’t choose your bed. Mom chose it. She and Dad moved it in and tied the beds together for me and Holly to have one big bed.”
“Mom chose it. That’s weird. She knows that bed was on its last legs and was making all that racket. Why would she move that one in your room?”
Realization sets in, and from the expanding grin on Kent’s face, he realizes it too.
“Fucking A.” She did it on purpose. That whole privacy spiel she gave us was bullshit. She moved a squeaky old bed into the room to cock block me. “You gotta help me, Kent, I’m never gonna survive these next few months, especially if I can’t have any private time with Holly. And I have no idea how I’m gonna explain the whole honeymoon situation.” I get up and pace the room. “What the hell am I gonna do?”
“First off, calm down. It’s not that bad. I’m gonna help you figure things out.”
“You are?” I stop pacing. “Can we move in with you?”
“No.” Kent shakes his head. “There’s not a fucking chance of that happening. But I will help you switch out the bed. And I will try and help you think of a solution to the time off problem.”
“Like what?”
He rubs his head while he thinks. “What if you get married on that Monday instead of the following Saturday?”
“Holly already said she didn’t want to get married on a weekday.”
“Maybe hold off on a honeymoon until later in the summer?”
I start back up for round two of pacing. “I don’t want to have to wait. Jesus Christ, this is so much stress. I almost can’t wait for the wedding to be over so things can go back to being easy and everything doesn’t have to be this hard.”
Kent grabs hold of my shoulders and stops me in my tracks.
“I hate to break it to you, little brother, but squeaky beds and wedding planning, this is the easy stuff. The hard stuff hasn’t even started yet. That comes after you’re married.”
“MORE COFFEE?” ASHLEY offers, holding up the pot.
“No, thanks.” I also refuse the plate of pink-frosted cookies she pushes my way. I’m trying to be mindful of what I eat and even signed up for a trial at the gym across town to tone up before the wedding.
Sitting at Ashley’s kitchen table is a nice reprieve from the little table at Dunkin’ I’ve been using as a desk for the last few weeks. Dress shopping with her and Robin, where she believed she had been the one who helped choose my gown, had been a bonding experience for us. Even though I experienced choosing “the one” three separate times. I met my mother and sister at a David’s Bridal in Jersey last weekend, where we all celebrated finding the fabulous belted wedding dress of my dreams. What they all don’t know, won’t kill them.
“I’ve spoken to your mother, sister, Jayne”—she says her name in a low grumble—“and everyone is on board with the third for your bridal shower. We’re going to have it here at my house. Are y
ou okay with that?”
“Sounds perfect. I hope you aren’t going to too much trouble.”
“No, I’m excited to have a project like this.” She pauses and drums her fingers on the table. “Can I tell you something?” She pauses, and I nod. “I’ve been feeling a little useless lately.”
“Useless? You have six children and a husband, how on earth do you feel useless?” On top of everything else she does, all of Ashley’s girls cheer. Cheerleading in Pennsylvania is like a full-time job for a parent. And yet she still has time for things like baking fabulous pink-frosted cookies. On second glance, I reach for one of the sweets, sinking my teeth into its sugary goodness.
“Sometimes, I don’t know.” Ashley stares off, absently grabs for another cookie, and chomps. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Patrick and the girls more than life itself, but sometimes, I just need… more.”
“Like more how?” The woman has everything. What could she be lacking? “Do you want to go back to work?” I ask, even though that’s crazy. Who would want to work if they didn’t have to?
“I really can’t right now. That would mean getting sitters for the girls and finding people to take them to and from school and practices and games, and it would be more of a headache than it’s worth. But I just feel so disconnected from everything. I need something that I can do from home where I can be here for the girls but still connect with other people.”
“What about doing something like I do for LazerShark? I connect with people all the time. Do you have any experience with PR?”
Ashley turns her nose up. “Ugh, I would hate that. No offense,” she quickly adds. Sure. None taken. I try not to roll my eyes. God, she’s so much like Jayne. “I tried writing, but all that came from it was a million rejection letters.”