Lovestruck Forever

by Rachel Schurig

  “They freaked out,” she said, covering her face with her hands. “Not that I was surprised, but God, Lizzie.” A whimpering sound came from behind her hands. “My mom said I broke her heart.”

  Shit. “I’m sorry, Sof. That’s a terrible thing for her to say to you.”

  “I know they’re disappointed,” she wailed, moving her hands away to stare at me, wide-eyed. “I get it; I let them down. But you would think they could put that aside for two minutes to realize that I’m scared out of my mind! A little support isn’t too much to ask for, is it?”

  “No,” I told her firmly. “Of course it’s not.”

  She leaned back into the cushions. “She just kept crying. Like, hello, Mom, I’m the one having a baby.”

  I rubbed her arm, wishing I could comfort her but knowing she needed to get this out.

  “And my dad.” She shuddered a little. “He looked like I slapped him, Lizzie. I’ve never seen him like that, I swear to God. When I told him I wasn’t getting married—” she trailed off, another sob escaping.

  “I thought he’d be the one that was pissed, you know?” she asked. “I thought he would yell or…something. But he just looked so fucking…sad. Like I let him down. And my mom…she was like, hysterical, Lizzie. You would have thought I was telling her that I committed murder or something.”

  “They’re too set in their ways,” I told her. “Way too old fashioned.”

  “I just…I guess part of me had hoped that they would be able to get over all that. I thought, when they saw how scared I was, their love for me might somehow let them put aside their medieval attitude.”

  I was filled with a sudden rage that they hadn’t—how could they not see that she was terrified? How could they be so selfish?

  “What happened when you told them that you were leaving?”

  Her expression was almost guilty. “I didn’t.”

  “Sofie—”

  “I’ll call them, okay? I just…I needed to get out of there, and I couldn’t deal with them again.” She shook her head. “After they spent twenty minutes freaking out, I went upstairs and started packing. And when I went downstairs again to tell them I was going, I could hear them in the kitchen—my mom was still crying. Going on and on about what she was supposed to say to the family.” Her eyes flashed as she looked at me. “That’s all they care about. What everyone else thinks. How it will make them look.”

  “If they really think that, then they’re stupid, Sofie. Your well-being and happiness is more important than their reputation.”

  She made a sound half way between a snort and a sob. “Yeah, well, they clearly don’t feel the same way. When I heard that, I just had to get out of there. So I came here.” She looked suddenly worried. “I hope that’s okay. I know I should have called but—”

  “Don’t be silly. Of course you should have come here. And you can stay for as long as you want.” I paused. “But you do need to let them know where you are. They might be upset right now, but you know they’ll worry about you.”

  She looked away, wiping her eyes. Right on cue, my phone rang. I pulled it from the pocket I had stuck it in and looked at the screen. “Speak of the devil…”

  She held up her hands. “I’m not talking to them.”

  “Okay. But I should answer it. I’ll just tell them that you’re here and you’re okay, all right?”

  My aunt was clearly panicked. I tried to speak as calmly as I could, telling her Sofie was right here and she was fine. “No, she doesn’t want to talk right now, Tia.”

  “Lizzie, you have to put her on the phone,” she sobbed. “She can’t just run away from home; she needs to be here. We need to talk about this—”

  “Tia, I think we all need to calm down,” I said as firmly as I could. I was never good at talking back to my older relatives. “Sofie is very upset, and I know you and Uncle Tomas are as well. A little distance might help everyone to gather their thoughts.”

  I couldn’t hear her response through her sobbing. Finally, my uncle took the phone from her. He sounded exhausted, like he’d aged years in the last few hours. “Is she okay, Lizzie?”

  “She’s fine, Tio. I promise. We’ll take good care of her.”

  He sighed. “Tell her we want her to come home. We want her with us.”

  “I’ll tell her. But I think it’s better if she stays with me tonight.” Sofie made a panicked face at me, shaking her head. I held up a hand to her. “She’s welcome here as long as she wants, Tio. But I’ll tell her.”

  “Thank you, Lizzie.” He paused for a long time. “Please tell her that we love her.”

  I felt tears come to my eyes. I knew that they did, that they loved her with all their hearts. They may be old fashioned and seemingly inflexible, but they loved their daughter and wanted what was best for her. I just hoped they could see that she needed to figure out what that was for herself.

  I hung up and turned to Sofie. “They say they love you, and they want you to come home.”

  “There’s no way I’m—”

  “I know, Sof. I’m just relaying the message.”

  She sighed, leaning forward to prop her head against her arms. “How the hell did everything get so messed up?”

  “Life is messy.” I rubbed her back, wishing there was some way I could take this away from her. “You’re strong, though, Sof. You’ll get through this.”

  “I don’t know how to be a mom, Lizzie,” she whispered.

  “Does anyone?”

  She shrugged. “I’m pretty sure Maria did.”

  I laughed. “Well, Maria was born a mother. She was probably bossing around the doctors in the maternity ward before she was an hour old.”

  Sofie was quiet, but at least she had stopped crying.

  “Do you need anything? Have you eaten?”

  She shook her head. “Do you mind if I just go lie down for a while? All this crying has given me a huge headache.”

  “Of course.” I stood, holding out my hand to heave her off the couch. “Let’s get you settled.”

  One plus about living in a giant mansion was the abundant number of rooms. I put Sofie in what would have been a master suite in any other house—a room with a sitting area and an attached bathroom. At least she would be comfortable, I told myself as I walked back down the stairs to catch Thomas up.

  Before I made it past the foyer, my phone rang again. I looked at the screen, not bothering to stifle my groan.

  “Hey, Maria,” I said, my voice as bright as I could make it. “What’s up?”

  “What’s up?” she practically screeched. “You know what’s up.”

  I sighed, making my way to the kitchen. I had a feeling I was going to need a healthy dose of wine to get through this conversation. “I take it you’ve talked to Mama.”

  “I’m with Mama,” she snapped back. “What on earth were you thinking, letting her stay there? Tia is freaking out.”

  “What was I supposed to do, Maria? She showed up to my house, crying and terrified. Was I supposed to tell her she wasn’t welcome? She’s my family. She’s scared and alone, and she has no idea what to do. If you think for one minute I was going to turn her away—”

  “You’re right,” Maria interrupted, sounding tired suddenly. “Of course you should have welcomed her in. I’m sorry. Everyone is just so upset.”

  I sank into the counter, feeling weary myself. “I know they are. But they should probably try to think a little bit more about how she’s feeling. She’s the one whose entire life just changed.”

  “Do you know this guy?” she asked, and I was relieved that there was no judgment in her voice, only concern. “Is there any chance he’ll be there for her?”

  “I don’t know him at all. But she says she doesn’t love him, so I don’t see her wanting him all that involved.”

  Maria exhaled loudly. “Poor Sof. I can’t imagine going through a pregnancy on my own.”

  “She’s not totally on her own,” I reminded Maria. “She has a h
uge family who are all supposed to love her and support her—no matter what. Maybe you should remind everyone of that.”

  Maria was quiet for a long moment. “Tell her I love her, okay? That we all do. And that she can call me if she needs anything.”

  Touched by her unexpected kindness, I assured her that I would pass along the message. Thomas joined me in the kitchen as I hung up the phone. “Who will be calling in outrage next?” he asked, standing behind me and rubbing my shoulders. “Want me to turn the ringer off for you?”

  “Maria was actually cool, believe it or not. Eventually, at least. Hopefully she’s the last one we’ll hear from.” I sighed, thinking of the days ahead. “For tonight, at least.”

  “I’m sorry, Lizzie.”

  I turned on the barstool so that I was facing him. “Sorry? What do you have to be sorry for?”

  “I’m sorry you have to watch Sof go through this. I know you’re worried about her.”

  I wrapped my arms around his middle, burying my head against his stomach. “She’s so scared, Thomas. I hate it.”

  “I know, love.”

  “Do you mind? Her moving in, I mean?”

  “Of course not,” he assured me. “I already told you she was welcome. Besides, I like the fact that you’ll have company when I’m gone.”

  Not wanting to think about him going on top of everything else, I shook my head and focused on Sofie. “You know what I hate the most? The fact that they made her feel worse than she already did. She was scared and feeling alone and went to her parents for support, and this is how they reacted. I get that this isn’t how they would want things to go for her in an ideal world but…God, I hate that they made it so much worse for her.”

  “It sucks,” he agreed. “But give them a chance to come around.”

  I looked up at him. “You know, I think they actually might. Her dad just sounded so scared that she was gone.”

  “They love her.”

  I nodded. “They do. They just don’t always know how to show it.” I gave him a rueful smile. “Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?”

  He tightened his arms around me. “And look how much your parents have come around.”

  “Yeah, too bad it took my mom almost dying for my dad to realize how dumb he was being.” I sighed, feeling tired. Had it only been an hour ago that Thomas and I were joking around in the den? It felt like a week. “I just hope it doesn’t take another disaster to get them on Sofie’s side.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The morning of my first dress shopping appointment, I found Sofie sitting on the couch, eating a bowl of some marshmallow-laden cereal while watching the entertainment news station.

  “Hey,” I said cautiously, sliding onto the end of the couch. “How’s it going?”

  She sighed loudly. “Oh, you know. I feel sick to my stomach, and the only thing that doesn’t make me want to hurl is this sugary garbage.”

  I winced in sympathy. “Sorry, Sof. That has to suck so bad. But you’re getting close to the end of the first trimester, right? Laura and Maria both said things got much easier after that.”

  “Easy.” She audibly snorted. “Yeah, I’m so sure. Easy up until the point that I have to push a giant baby out of my vagina.”

  I stifled my laugh, unsure if she was joking or not. To say that her moods were a little touchy lately would be a major understatement.

  “Are you, uh, almost ready to go?” I asked, glancing quickly at the clock on the cable box. We needed to leave in about twenty minutes to get to the bridal salon on time to meet my family.

  “I’m not going,” she said, her voice just this side of petulant. “I can’t deal with it, Lizzie. I’m sorry.”

  I stared at her. “What do you mean you’re not going?” I asked slowly, sure I must have misunderstood her.

  She sighed loudly, leaning her head against the back of the sofa. “Your mother will be there. Your sisters. I am so not in the mood for the looks I’m going to get. I just…I can’t.” She finished her speech with another sigh.

  “Sofie…” I struggled to restrain my anger, to be understanding. I knew that it was hard for her, being around family right now. Her anger at her parents was understandable. But this was my wedding dress.

  “Sofie,” I tried again, my voice stronger now. “Look, I know you don’t really want to see people, but no one is going to say anything to you.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Maria isn’t going to say anything?”

  I shook my head quickly. “I’ve talked to her and my mom about it. They both promised to stay out of it.”

  She gave me a look that made it clear she thought I was naive. “Our family is physically incapable of staying out of anything and you know it, Lizzie.”

  “It’s my wedding dress,” I implored, knowing that I was the one sounding petulant now. “I want you there, Sof. I need you.” I attempted a smile. “Who else is going to back me up when Maria tries to put me in some over-poofed monstrosity?”

  She merely shook her head, turning back to her cereal. “I’m sorry, Lizzie. Enjoy the day with your sisters and mom. I’ll be fine here.”

  I was filled with the sudden urge to slap her or yell at her. She would be fine here? Well that was great for her. I, on the other hand, was going to have to go try on dresses—the thing I’d been looking forward to most, the thing she and I had always talked about doing together—without my maid of honor, my best friend.

  “Fine, Sof.” I stood up from the couch, not bothering to hide my anger. “I guess I’ll do it without you.”

  I walked quickly to the kitchen, trying not to cry. I wanted to be sympathetic. I couldn’t imagine how hard this was, to be pregnant and to feel unsupported and alone. But I was being supportive—why was she taking it out on me? I had made it perfectly clear to my family that anyone who brought up her situation would be unceremoniously removed from the bridal salon. Did she think I wouldn’t stand up for her?

  The entire time I drank my coffee and finished getting ready, a part of me expected her to appear, dressed and ready to go. But she never did. When I finally couldn’t wait any longer, I pulled on my jacket, peeking into the living room to see her still sitting in the same spot on the couch, the TV blaring.

  With a final shake of my head, I left the house, still not really believing I was about to go and try on wedding dresses for the first time without Sofie.

  ***

  An hour later, I was missing her even more. As I had fully expected, Maria and Laura were quite a handful. They listened politely as I talked to the consultant about what I wanted—something romantic and simple with no tulle—but I could read total skepticism in their faces. Maybe it was the rolling eyes and heavy sighs that gave them away.

  “You look gorgeous!” my mother cried when I appeared in the consultant’s first attempt—a cream silk A-line with little embellishment other than an intricately beaded belt. I stepped up onto the pedestal in the center of the room, staring in awe in the mirror. I looked like a bride. The belt sparkled brightly in the lights every time I moved even slightly, and the A-line, though tighter than my normal clothes, hugged my curves in a way that made me feel older, more sophisticated. Beautiful even.

  In the floor-to-ceiling three-way mirrors, I could see my mother dabbing at her eyes with a Kleenex. “Mom,” I said, not knowing if I should laugh or join her. “Don’t cry!”

  “I can’t help it, mija,” she said, shaking her head. “You’re so beautiful!”

  I knew she’d had the same reaction when we first saw Maria and Laura in wedding dresses, but I was still touched. I turned on the pedestal to hug her. “Thanks, Mama.”

  Still blubbering a bit, she returned to her seat as I spun a little, watching the dress twirl out slightly in the mirror. “What do you think?” I asked my sisters.

  They were quiet for a moment, just long enough for me to know that they hated it. “You look lovely, Lizzie,” Laura said diplomatically. “I just…I’m not quite sure it’s really right.�
��

  “It’s boring,” Maria said flatly. “You need something with more.”

  I closed my eyes, knowing exactly what she had in mind when she said more. Maria’s own dress had consisted of a low-cut sweetheart neckline, and miles and miles of tulle and pick-ups in the skirt. As if that wasn’t “more” enough, the entire thing was bejeweled to within an inch of its life. She had been beautiful, of course, the dress perfect for her. But it was the last thing in the world I would ever choose for my own wedding.

  “We have plenty of options in the dressing room,” the consultant, Tonya, said kindly. “And plenty of time to try them all.”

  As soon as we returned to the dressing room, Maria and Laura started trolling the racks on their own for dresses they were confident would be better than my selections. Before I had even been zipped up into the next option—a tight satin mermaid style I wasn’t crazy about—they were knocking on the door with dresses for me to try next. The consultant looked at me questioningly, but I merely nodded, resigned. They would never agree to like anything unless I at least tried on their choices.

  Luckily, we were all in agreement about the mermaid dress, and I quickly returned to the dressing room. “Well,” Tonya said. “Should we try on one of ours or…?”

  “We might as well make them happy,” I muttered, pointing to the three dresses they had left. Tonya laughed and proceeded to help me get out of the heavy satin and into one of the new dresses. I stared at myself in the dressing room mirror as she fastened the back. “My sisters…” I muttered, shaking my head.

  “It’s not quite what we talked about, is it?” Tonya asked diplomatically.

  I snorted. “That’s Maria and Laura for you. They’re fantastic listeners.”

  She helped me out of the dressing room and back out to the showroom where my family was waiting. Sure enough, Maria and Laura broke into identical smiles. Even my mother couldn’t hide her pleasure in the dress.