Three Girls And A Wedding

by Rachel Schurig

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Do you have the root beer?” Ginny asked me, rifling through a shopping bag on the kitchen counter.

  “Yup,” I assured her. “And the rest of the pop. And beer for the grown-ups.”

  “And Josh has the cooler and the hot dogs,” she murmured, standing up.

  “And Annie’s picking up the cake,” I said. “We’re good to go, hon. All we need is the birthday boy!”

  It was Saturday afternoon and Danny’s party was set to begin at the park down the street from our house in twenty minutes. It was going to be a pretty simple, laid-back affair, but Ginny was starting to get anxious. Probably because her parents would be there. They had that effect on her. Come to think of it, my mother would be there too. I guess I could see where her nervousness was coming from.

  “I was hoping he’d wake up on his own,” Ginny said, looking at the clock with a worried expression. “He gets so whiney when I wake him.”

  “He’ll be fine,” I assured her. “He loves the park. He’ll have a blast.”

  At that precise moment, a muffled whimper came from the baby monitor on the counter. “See?” I told her. “It’s all working out.”

  Fifteen minutes later we had Danny loaded up in his stroller and his wagon packed with the pop and paper products. It was a perfect day for a party in the park and Ginny and Josh had reserved the pavilion there.

  “Ready?” I asked her.

  “As I’ll ever be,” she sighed.

  “You okay?” I asked her as we started down the road.

  “I’m nervous,” she admitted. “Josh invited his parents…”

  I gasped. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  Ginny shrugged. “I knew you guys would get all worked up about it and I’m not even sure they’ll be there.”

  “Oh, they’ll be there,” I muttered darkly. “If there’s a chance they’ll see their precious son, they’ll be there.”

  Josh was barely on speaking terms with his parents. Their involvement in keeping him from Ginny and Danny was something he just couldn’t forgive. I was pretty sure they’d only met Danny two or three times in his life.

  “Why would Josh invite them, today of all days?” I asked, feeling angry. Like Josh, I could not forgive them for what they had done to Ginny. Just thinking about it made my blood pressure rise.

  “It was my idea, actually,” she said.

  “Ginny! Why on earth would you suggest that?” I was shocked. Ginny had expressed to me, on numerous occasions, her recurring dream of bashing Mrs. Stanley in the head with a blunt object. I shared her desire.

  “Look, we’ll probably never all be one big, happy family,” she told me. “But they’re Danny’s grandparents. I want him to have the option of knowing them. Besides, Josh and I are going to be married. I have to put him first, at least sometimes. I don’t want him to never see his parents. No matter what happened, they are his parents. They raised him, loved him, for years before he even met me.”

  I sighed. “That’s way too mature of you, Gin,” I told her ruefully.

  She laughed. “Being a grown-up sucks,” she said. “You always have to think about other people besides yourself.”

  “Well, if it makes you feel any better,” I said as we approached the park, “I’ll be fantasizing about ripping that woman’s hair out.”

  She put her arm around my shoulder. “You know what, Jen? That does make me feel better.”

  ***

  Danny’s party was an unqualified success. Just as I had predicted, he perked right up when he saw the park. Ginny’s parents were polite enough, her mother keeping her criticism to the bare minimum she seemed to require in order to survive. Josh’s parents did come, and seemed beyond grateful for the invitation. They were over-the-top nice to Danny, buying him not one but two lavish presents. A ride-along Jeep for a one-year-old. Honestly. I couldn’t help but notice that both Josh and Ginny cringed every time one of the Stanleys talked to Danny.

  Ginny, for her part, seemed determined to prove to them how little effect they had on her happiness. She barely spoke to them at all, instead socializing with all of her friends, playing with the baby, laughing and kissing Josh like she didn’t have a care in the world.

  “That’s my girl,” Annie said to me quietly as we watched Ginny in the midst of a large group of people, telling some story about Danny that had them all laughing.

  “Danny likes our present,” I pointed out, gesturing toward where he was playing with Josh in the grass.

  Danny’s grandparents could try to win with his love with expensive presents, but they didn’t know him like his aunties did. Danny was totally obsessed with the laundry basket in our house—he was constantly trying to get into it, to push it around the living room. He seemed to like nothing better than to put all of his toys in it, then climb in himself. Weird, I know, but it made him happy. As a result, Annie and I had bought him a basket of his very own. We had glued a cushion to the bottom to make for a more comfortable seat, and painted the outside garish colors. He was enthralled with it.

  “Of course he does,” Annie said, smiling. “It’s from his favorite people in the world.”

  My cell phone rang in my purse, and I swore. I’d told Kiki I had this party today and she’d assured me she wouldn’t be bothering me. Grumbling, I pulled out the phone and was pleased, and very surprised, to see my dad’s name flashing there.

  “Hi, Dad!” I said.

  “Hey, pumpkin,” came his gruff voice down the line. I felt a pang in my chest. I missed my dad. “How’s it going?”

  “Good,” I told him. “Just at Danny’s birthday party.”

  “Danny’s birthday?” he said, sounding surprised. “I can’t believe he’s old enough for a birthday.”

  “Tell me about it,” I said. “It seems like last week we were bringing him home from the hospital.”

  “How’re the girls?” he asked, and I smiled. This was the difference between conversations with him and conversations with my mom. He always asked about Annie and Ginny before bringing up my job. As I thought this, I caught sight of my mother across the pavilion, watching me. I wondered if she could sense who I was talking to. I waved at her and turned away, walking over to a bench where it was more quiet.

  I talked to my dad for about ten minutes. We eventually got around to work. I told him about the Barkers’ wedding and he told me he was very proud of me. I felt a rush of warmth at his words.

  “You’re not letting this distract you from Ginny’s wedding, are you?” he asked. “I know the job’s important and all, but don’t let it overwhelm you.”

  “It’s fine,” I said, smiling. “But enough about me, Dad. How are you?”

  “Oh, same old,” he said. “Bit of a rough week this week, but I got through it.”

  I felt a flash of panic. “Is everything okay now?” I asked him, my throat feeling dry all of a sudden.

  “Of course, sweetie,” he said. “One day at a time, right?”

  “Have you been talking to Bill?” Bill was my dad’s AA sponsor and best friend in the world. I owed my dad’s life to Bill.

  “Of course,” he laughed. “He’s been around almost every day. I know what I’m doing, sweetie. It’s been six years.”

  “I know, Dad,” I said, closing my eyes. Six years of sober living. It seemed like only months sometimes. “I have so much faith in you. I just wish you would call me when things get hard.”

  “No need to bring you down with all that,” he said, sounding impatient. “Not your job. That’s what my sponsor is for.”

  “It’s what your family is for too, Dad.”

  He chuckled again. “Okay, you got me. I promise to call more when I’m having a rough time. Your voice should cheer me up, if nothing else.”

  “Thanks, Dad,” I said, feeling slightly better.

  “You should get back to your party,” he said. “Tell the girls I say hi.”

  “I will. And I’m gonna call you next week, okay
?”

  “Whenever you can, whenever you can,” he said easily. “Love you, pumpkin.”

  “I love you too, Dad. Bye.”

  I hung up the phone, feeling that sick knot in my stomach that I so often got when I talked to my dad. I knew I shouldn’t worry; I knew he was doing okay. But I couldn’t bear the thought of him being sick again. I had come so close to losing him so many times before.

  “Jen,” Ginny called out to me from the pavilion, pulling me from my dark thoughts. “We’re gonna sing happy birthday!”

  I stood up, trying to get a hold on my fear. Plastering a big smile on my face, I approached my friends.

  Chapter Fourteen

  ‘Planning a wedding can be seriously stressful stuff. Taking a mini-vacation during your planning might seem counter-productive, but it could actually help you to better focus and enjoy the process. If you can manage to get away for a weekend, I strongly encourage you to do so! Remember, ladies, this is supposed to be FUN!’—The Bride’s Guide to a Fabulous Wedding

  “This is a disaster!” I moaned, staring at the pile of clothes, shoes and accessories scattered across my bed.

  “Oh, poor Jen,” Annie scoffed. She was laying on her back on the floor of my bedroom, carefully painting her nails a shocking purple. “What on earth will she pack for her all-expenses-paid trip to the greatest city in the world?”

  “This isn’t all fun and games, Ann,” I told her, picking up a grey cashmere scarf before tossing it aside again. “It’s work. I have to make a good impression.”

  “You’re going to New York,” Annie said, holding up her hand to inspect her nails. “In a private jet. You’re staying at the Plaza. Tell me what the problem is?”

  I sighed. I knew Annie had a point. In fact, I was pretty excited about this trip. I had never been to New York City before and I couldn’t believe that my first trip there was going to be so high-class. But I was also feeling a lot of pressure. What if I did something totally embarrassing? What if messed up in some way?

  “Are you nervous ’cause the hottie is gonna be there?” she asked, smirking. I felt a swooping in my stomach at the thought. Kiki had just let me know that Eric and his brother would be joining us so they could get their tuxes custom-made by a tailor in the city. Annie, predictably, was very interested in my description of Matt and his sheer gorgeousness.

  “It’s not that,” I told her, not totally truthfully. In fact, Matt made me feel more uncomfortable than the rest of them, the way he always seemed to be appraising me, the way he always seemed somewhat displeased by what he saw. I didn’t tell Annie that, though. She would freak out if she knew I was letting myself get so worked up over a guy who didn’t even like me.

  “Jen,” Annie said, sitting up on her knees. “It’s going to be amazing. Stop worrying.”

  “Worrying about what?” Ginny asked from the doorway.

  “Hey, hon,” I said, looking up at her. “How was work?”

  “Busy today,” she replied, walking into the room and sitting down at my desk. “Now, what are you worrying about?”

  “Jen doesn’t know what to pack. It’s a tragedy,” Annie said drily.

  Ginny, however, did not make fun of me. Instead, her entire face lit up. “Oooh, let me help you!”

  “Be my guest,” I told her, gesturing at the pile of clothes. “It’s hopeless anyhow.”

  Ginny moved into action, rifling through the clothes and shoes on my bed and organizing them into neat piles, while I took her abandoned seat at my desk.

  “Jen, can I ask you a question?” Annie said, pulling a pillow down from the bed and settling herself more comfortably on the floor. “Why are you so worried about what these people think?”

  “It’s my career, Ann,” I told her.

  “I know…but why should it matter so much what you wear? You’re planning an amazing wedding for them—isn’t that what counts?”

  I shrugged, feeling kind of uncomfortable. Annie was never one to care about her image. Sure, she liked to dress up and cared about fashion as much as Gin or me, but she only ever wore what she actually liked, not caring about what was “in” at the moment or what other people thought about her choices.

  Sometimes I wished I could be more like that.

  “They’re important people. I just want to give a good impression,” I mumbled.

  Annie looked at me for a moment without speaking. “You make a good impression just being you,” she finally said. “I hope you remember that.”

  We sat quietly for a moment, watching Ginny fold and arrange my clothes. I had a sudden urge to confess to the girls how stressed I was feeling, how inadequate I seemed around these people. How I wished I didn’t have to try so hard. How usually when I was out at smart parties or schmoozing with people like the Barkers, I felt uncomfortable and cheap, and wanted nothing more than to be at home with them.

  “Okay, how’s this?” Ginny asked, distracting me from my thoughts. “I planned six outfits for you. That should be way more than enough for a long weekend.” She gestured at her little piles. “These four are good day outfits. And you can easily dress them up for evening. Like this black wrap dress—wear it during the day with this scarf and your corduroy blazer. Then at night lose the jacket and scarf and add this necklace.” She gestured to the smaller pile. “And then these two are dressier in case you go somewhere nicer for dinner or something.”

  “Why the hell do you work in a bookstore?” Annie asked, bemused. “You should have been a personal shopper or something.”

  Ginny smiled at her. “What do you think, Jen?’ she asked me.

  “It’s perfect, Gin,” I said fervently. “It really is. Thank you, I feel so much better now.”

  She grinned. “My pleasure. And I have a pair of red heels that will be hot with that dress. I’ll grab them from upstairs once Danny wakes up.”

  I pulled my new suitcase out of my closet, excited for Ginny’s reaction.

  “Oh my God,” Ginny whispered, her face alight. “Is that what I think it is?”

  “Louis Vuitton,” I said, placing it ceremoniously on the bed.

  “Holy shit,” she murmured, gently touching the soft brown leather.

  Annie jumped up from the floor to join us by the bed. “Jen, that bag is, like, three thousand bucks!”

  “This one wasn’t,” I smiled. “My mom got it on eBay when I told her about the trip. Granted, it’s still probably the most expensive piece of luggage I’ll ever own, but she didn’t pay full price.”

  “It’s in amazing shape for being used,” Ginny said, still touching the bag reverently.

  “There are a few scratches in the leather on the bottom, but I don’t think anyone will notice,” I said, crossing my fingers.

  “If they do, they’ll probably just think that you’re well-traveled,” Annie said.

  “Bless you,” I said, putting my arm around her.

  “Well, now I’m really jealous,” Ginny said. “A trip to New York, a private jet, and couture luggage. What a bitch. I should have let you pack yourself.”

  Annie laughed and I began placing the clothes Ginny had picked into the bag.

  “Well, if you’re lucky I’ll let you take it on your honeymoon…speaking of being a lucky bitch,” I said, finishing my packing and zipping the bag.

  “She’s right, you’re going to Jamaica, you whore!” Annie cried. “I hate both of you. I don’t get to go anywhere!”

  “We should plan a long weekend away somewhere while Ginny’s gone,” I said, “The Barker wedding will be over by then, I’m sure I’ll need a break.”

  “That would be great,” Annie said.

  “Just so long as you go somewhere kid-friendly,” Ginny said. When Annie looked blank she smiled. “Oh, didn’t Jen tell you? She volunteered you guys to watch Danny while we’re gone.”

  “This gets better and better,” Annie grumbled. “I need a drink. Do we have any of that wine left?”

  We headed down to the kitchen. Ginny grabb
ed three wine glasses from the cabinet while Annie rooted around in the fridge for a half-empty bottle of Merlot. “Fine then,” she said as she began to pour. “We’ll stay in the house and enjoy the fact that it’s man-free before Josh moves in here.”

  I caught a glimpse of Ginny’s face out of the corner of my eye; her expression made my stomach drop.

  “Um, actually…we should probably talk about that,” she said, clearly uncomfortable.

  “Talk about what?” I asked.

  “Josh and me…and where we’ll live.”

  Annie and I just stared at her. I guess I should have expected this, but instead I felt unpleasantly shocked.

  “We thought…since we’ll be just married and all…we thought we’d get our own place,” Ginny stammered, not meeting our eyes.

  “You’re…you’re moving?” Annie asked, aghast.

  “Yeah,” Ginny said, staring hard at her feet. “After the wedding.”

  “But…where?” Annie asked.

  Ginny took a big gulp of her wine. “We’re looking at apartments and houses to rent,” she said, finally looking up. “So you guys will have a ton more room!” she said, her voice overly bright. “And no more crying baby in the middle of the night!”

  I closed my eyes, feeling short of breath. No more crying baby. No more Danny.

  “Is this my fault?” Annie whispered. I looked over at her and saw tears in her eyes. “Is this because Josh hates me? Because I’ve really been trying, Gin, I swear, I would be totally polite if he lived here, I promise.”

  “Annie, this has nothing to do with you,” Ginny said firmly. “I know you’ve been trying, you’ve been great! This is just about me and Josh. We’re starting our family together and we feel like we should have our own place. You understand that, don’t you?”

  “Of course we do,” I said, even though the thought of her leaving broke my heart.

  “I can’t believe this!” Annie cried, setting her glass down a little too hard. “I can’t believe you’re not going to live here anymore!”

  “Ann, this house is way too small for four adults and a growing kid. And I don’t really want to spend the first months of my marriage sharing a room with my baby—Danny’s gonna need his own room. Plus, it’s not fair of me to ask Josh to have to share one bathroom with three girls.” She smiled, trying to lighten the mood.