by Aimee Brown
“Well,” he laughs. “Without the food poisoning and the hangover, yes.”
“Yeah.” I nod.
“I don’t know if I’m quite there yet, but it’s definitely an idea for the future.”
My heart sinks a bit, and I have to force my face to not show the disappointment I’m feeling knowing that this is not him proposing. Not that I was ever really expecting it, but a girl can dream.
He strokes my cheek with his thumb and kisses my lips. “It’s not off the table for the future.”
I nod, my eyes still closed as he pulls his lips away from mine. I’ll take it.
Eleven
The Wedding Day
Present Day
Downtown Portland, Oregon
“Everybody up!” Hannah is storming my room, pulling open the curtains and inviting in the rare Portland sunshine to invade my space.
“What time is it?” I ask, objecting to a sunrise wakeup call.
“7 a.m.” She stands next to the bed waiting for me to pull the blankets off my face. “I’m getting married today! We have a ton to do so get up!”
“What do we have to do that can’t get done in the next twelve hours?” She yanks the blankets off me as I say it.
“Just come downstairs and don’t ruin my day.”
She disappears through the door as I sit up on the side of the bed trying to force myself to wake up.
“What? I’m not even in the wedding party!” Lily objects from her room next door.
I throw on a bra, because when you have C-sized boobs no bra is a definite no-go, before heading downstairs to the smells of heaven wafting my direction.
A man in a black jacket and black chef’s hat greets me with a wave. “Good morning, Miss. Is there anything I can prepare for you this morning?”
“Prepare for me?”
“Yes, Miss Cabot has hired me to feed you throughout the day. Whatever you’d like, I can accommodate.”
I feel my eyes grow wide with excitement. “You can make me whatever I want for breakfast?” I ask, just to double check that I’m not still sleeping and having the best dream ever.
“Yes, ma’am.” He nods his head enthusiastically.
“What do you suggest?”
“I have an omelet that most clients love.”
“Let’s do it… And for your information… I love cheese. I’m not one of these dieting women you probably normally cook for.”
He smiles, showing all his teeth. “My favorite kind of woman. I’ll bring it out to you as soon as it’s done.” He nods towards the counter filled with everything needed for gourmet coffee or hot chocolate. “Help yourself to some coffee if you’d like.”
“I would like, thank you.”
“Oh good, there you are.” Hannah looks panicked already and we’re still many, many hours away from the wedding. “Listen, as soon as you’ve eaten I need you to shower because the spray tan lady will be here at nine.”
“Spray tan lady?”
“Yeah, you’ve never had one?” She watches me shake my head. “Oh, it’s so cool. She actually brings all the equipment right to the house and does it here. It’s quick and subtle, and when it’s over you’ll glow like you just got back from somewhere tropical.”
I’ve never had a spray tan before, and I’m a little nervous for my natural skin tone is not much darker than the color of snow. What if something goes wrong? No, it can’t, people do this all the time with no issues.
“OK,” I say with a shrug of my shoulders, while I pour a few too many coffee flavors into my cup.
By the time I get to the table, Mr Chef is following me over with a plate heaped full of cheesy goodness. “Your omelet, Miss.”
“You’re not actually going to eat that?” Greta and her judgmental sneer come sauntering into the room, taking the chair across from mine. “Do you have any idea how many calories are in something like that?”
“I do, actually.” I nod, pretending I don’t hate her.
“Those are calories you definitely don’t need.”
“Why are you here again?” I ask as I shove a giant forkful of eggs and cheese into my mouth as she watches in disgust. “Last I checked you aren’t a part of the bridal party. You probably could have slept in and saved us all some irritation.”
Greta rolls her eyes, an exasperated smile on her face. “This whole morning of beauty is my wedding gift to Hannah.”
“Ah, sweet. Now we can all look like plastic dolls just like you.”
Greta shakes her head with a glare, “No wonder you lost Jack.”
“I didn’t lose him. For your information, I dumped him. If anything, you should be thanking me.”
“Why would I thank you?”
“Because without me, you’d not be secretly wishing that one day you’ll be wearing the exact same diamond that once sat on my hand.”
Her jaw drops open. “Whatever, where’s Hannah?”
I intentionally fork another pile of eggs into my mouth and shrug my shoulders.
“Oh good! Greta, you’re here. I’m so excited you can get ready with all of us. The girl you recommended will be here any minute too.”
“Great! I’m so excited to help so just tell me where I’m needed.”
“They’re probably looking for her back at the mental institution…” I say to myself watching only the Chef grin at my joke.
*
When I’m finally done with my second omelet, yes, second, I head upstairs to attempt the start of getting ready for this wedding. I look through the basket of expensive toiletries Hannah left in my room and grab the shampoo and conditioner before jumping in the shower. I take extra time shaving every part of me that may or may not be exposed today before lathering my hair in a shampoo that smells more than delightful. I can already feel my mood lifting. Maybe all I needed was a good shower? Or maybe it was the omelets?
“Hey Em, Hannah wanted me to—” Lily stops midsentence as I walk out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around my chest.
“To what?”
“What did you do to your hair?”
“Uh, washed it, don’t act so surprised.”
“What did you wash it with?” Her face is anything but amused by my sharp wit.
“What do you mean? Shampoo… Actually, I used the stuff Hannah left in here.” I point over at the basket of goodies.
“I don’t think it was shampoo…”
“Why?” I walk past her back into the bathroom and glance in the mirror. “OH, MY GOD! Oh my God, what in the holy fuck?!” My once dark ash hair is now a muddy purple color.
“What’s wrong?” Hannah walks in, her mouth dropping open in shock. “What did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything, Hannah, except use the shampoo you gave me.” I point to the basket.
“Why would it do this?” she asks me, getting closer to inspect it.
“I don’t know?”
She grabs the shampoo off the shower shelf and squeezes some into her hand. “It’s purple?”
“Why is it purple?”
“You didn’t notice this while you were showering?”
I watch her squeeze the conditioner into her hand, also purple.
“No… I had my eyes closed.”
“You shower with your eyes closed?” Lily asks.
“Sometimes, when I’m trying to relax. How do you shower?” I snap at her, wondering why my showering techniques are suddenly to blame for my hair turning purple.
“Beside the point.” Hannah waves a frantic hand at her. “It’s not so terrible, it’s kind of a lavender gray color. If need be we could say it matches the dress.” She lets out a nervous laugh. “When the hairdresser gets here we’ll just have her fix it.” She forces a deep breath, obviously a little more stressed out than she’s letting on.
“Right.” I take another glance in the mirror. “Of course, she can fix it.”
“How about right now you go do your tan and then as soon as the hair lady gets here we’ll get your hair fixed?” Hannah is d
oing her best to stay calm, but her voice keeps cracking when she speaks. I am going to single handedly ruin yet another wedding day.
I make my way toward the den, where the tanning lady is supposed to be set up. And, of course, right before I walk in, Greta walks out.
“Whoa… New hair for the wedding? It’s an odd day to go purple, isn’t it?”
“Funny… Shampoo mishap, that’s all.”
She nods her head and rolls her eyes.
When I walk into the room there is a tall tent with hoses coming from it and running into some contraption next to it. It looks more like a science experiment than a tanning booth.
“Hi, there! And you are?” A perky girl in super-short shorts and a skin tight sleeveless top turns toward me, a smile on her face.
“Emi.”
“Emi! Perfect. I just need you to strip and stand in the tent then do exactly as I say. Have you ever done this before?”
“No,” I shake my head nervously.
“It’s easy peasy, so no worries there.”
“You want me to strip naked?” I ask, hoping she says no, but fully expecting to hear a yes. There is one goal I have in life when it comes to naked and that is for me to be the only one to see it unless there are special romantic circumstances.
“Don’t worry, I’ve seen it all before.” She waves a hand at me as if there is absolutely nothing to worry about. There is, though. She just did Greta’s tan – and her naked is a tad smaller and probably smoother, than my naked.
“OK.” I shut the den door, lock it, and strip down to nothing. “Just in the tent then?”
“Yup. This is super-quick, maybe ten minutes.” She positions me in the center of the tent. “Great. I’ll start at your feet and spray upwards so when you feel it on your chest close your eyes tightly and hold your breath for a moment until I’m done with your face. Then I’ll take a second and do another spray before we do your back.”
“Easy enough.” I stand where she told me to and she starts to spray a cool mist over my skin.
“Is that it?” I ask her ten minutes later.
“Yup.”
“But it didn’t do anything?” I’m still looking at my ghostly white skin.
“It takes a few hours for it to set in. Don’t worry, you’ll be glowing.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” I pat myself dry with the towel she’s handed me, just as instructed, and pull on the robe I carried down with me.
I walk back towards the buffet, which is the last thing I need, but secretly I’m hoping it’s time to eat again. Hannah stops me just short enough to smell everything but not see it. “Delilah is here.”
“Delilah?” I ask, secretly hoping it’s another chef.
“The hair girl. Actually, Heidi is the hair girl but when I told her our problem she called in a backup to take care of just you.”
“Great, I look so terrible I need my own team of beauticians.”
“That’s not what I meant, she’s getting set up in your room. That way no one will wonder why you’re getting special treatment.”
“Is it really special treatment, though, Hannah? Or is it just solving a problem that might ruin your wedding?”
“Just go!” she barks at me, clearly getting more stressed with every passing minute.
“Delilah?” I walk into my room to see a large woman with a lot of hair setting out all kinds of potions and powders on a rolling cart I’ve never seen before.
“Oh my. Yup, that’s purple.” She points at the stool set in the middle of my bathroom. “Let’s get started.”
She doesn’t waste any time washing it multiple times, conditioning it, spraying, drying, painting goo on and sealing me up in tin foil.
“So… What exactly is this?”
“You’re going blonde… I assume you’ve bleached your hair before?”
I stare at Delilah, “Nope. That’s kind of why the purple was such a shock.”
“What kind of shampoo was it?”
“I dunno… Something Hannah gave me, but it was purple.”
“Well, I think you’ll look great as a blonde.”
“It’s really going to be completely blonde?” I stare at my tin foiled head in the mirror in front of me. I feel like this is a decision I should have had a say in. Marilyn Monroe platinum just isn’t a color that ever appealed to my hair. Oddly enough the tin foil reminds me of the dress I’ll be putting on in a couple hours’ time.
“Hopefully. It looked like the washing got out most of the color, really it was just left in the bottom half of your hair, so this should strip it out.”
Bleaching is not a fast process. I’ve flipped through every magazine I brought with me at least three times while I’ve been wearing this tin foil hat. My scalp is starting to burn and I don’t know if this smell will ever wash away.
“Let’s check it.” Delilah hops off the bed and slowly starts unwrapping a section of my hair while I watch nervously in the mirror. When she gets about six inches down, the foil, complete with the bottom half of my hair, comes away in her hand. “Oh… No.”
“No… No oh-no’s, Delilah! What just happened? Did my hair just fall off?”
“You’re sure you’ve not recently dyed your hair or anything?”
“You mean besides this morning? NO! Why?” I’m getting more frantic with each question she asks.
“`Cause this sometimes happens when people over color their hair. It will essentially melt off during another color application, and bleach isn’t the easiest thing on hair anyway, so—”
“So, what?! Get it out then!” I yell at her and watch her quickly pull all the tin foil from my hair. About every third one pulls the bottom half of my hair right off all over my head, leaving me with big jagged shoulder length patches throughout my normally nearly waist length hair.
“Oh my God,” I breathe out as slowly as possible, leaning over the sink, trying not to have a full on panic attack and wondering how this day could possibly get any worse. “Now what?”
“I’m gonna have to cut it.”
“Cut it?! Do you have any idea how long it took me to grow it this long?”
“I know,” Delilah nods her head apologetically. “But unless you want to look like this…” She points at one of the worst areas. “I suggest we cut it. It’ll be really cute on you.”
“NO!” I jump off the stool and down the hallway. “LILY! HANNAH!” I am screaming through the landing, looking into each room I walk past before I finally see everyone gathered at the bottom of the stairs. “She melted off my hair! But only some parts, so it looks awful, and now…” I try to take a breath between seethes. “NOW she wants to cut it. But nooo… I want the other girl to do it.” Delilah stands next to me, now looking slightly irritated.
“I can totally cut it.”
“Like you could totally get the purple out? No. You’re on bridesmaid duty now. Send up Heidi!” I yell down the stairs, sending Hannah scrambling along the hall to summon Heidi.
By the time I’m back in my room and sitting on the stool, trying not to sob, a tiny woman who I assume is Heidi walks in looking scared. “Hi, Emi. I’m so sorry about this. Let’s see what we can do.”
I close my eyes as she works, worried about how my wavy hair will look shoulder length. I’ve been growing my hair since high school when I made the mistake of cutting what my mother insisted would be an adorable pixie cut. It wasn’t. Not even a little bit.
“OK,” she says, waking me from my almost nap, causing me to slowly squint open my eyes, afraid of what I’m about to see. The blonde surprises me but it’s kind of cute. It’s in layers with the longest layer being just below my shoulders and she’s tamed my unruly curls into loose waves. “Do you hate it?”
I reach up and touch it, almost afraid if I do the rest will fall out. “No,” I slowly shake my head. “I actually think I like it.”
“Unfortunately, not all the purple came out, so there are still tiny streaks of lavender, but it looks intentional,
and it kind of matches your dress.”
“You are a lifesaver!” I jump off the stool and even to my own surprise I pull Heidi in for a hug. “Thank you!” I run down the stairs and into a room filled with dresses and makeup ladies. “She did it!”
“Oh my God… Look how cute that is on you! You look like a whole new Emi!” Lily touches my hair with a huge smile on her face. “I seriously love it.”
“Me too!” Hannah nods her head in approval. “Now you can relax for a few minutes until we have a spot for you to have your makeup done.”
“Nope, I’ll be doing my own makeup, thank you. After that nonsense, I’m just not comfortable having someone else fix my face.” I laugh but am all too serious.
“Are you sure?” Lily asks.
“Yes. Very, very.” I head upstairs and load up YouTube to get some quick tips so I don’t look washed out with my new blonde hair. Thank God for technology. I don’t know how I ever got through my teenage years without it.
About halfway through my third video is when I realize it’s not the makeup making me look streaky but the spray tan that is now starting to darken. When I say ‘darken,’ I mean, I look like I’ve just spent a week lying in the sun. It’s not exactly turning me orange, but I’m definitely no longer a milky white.
“Hey, Lil…” I nonchalantly yell down the stairs, hoping not to send Hannah into a full on panic.
“What?” she yells back, obviously not quite reading my mind like I’d hoped.
“Can you come up here?”
“Is something wrong?” she yells back, leading me to the balcony overlooking the living room.
“Just get your ass up here!” I hiss down to her and watch her jump off the couch and run towards the stairs.
“What is it?” She walks in and stops in her tracks, looking me up and down. “Oh no… the tan?”
“As if anything else could go wrong. Yeah. The tan. What the fuck? How bad does it look?”
Lily bites her lip and looks me up and down. “It’s not terrible yet, but it keeps getting darker for up to eight hours. So… with the wedding just a few hours away…”
“Oh, my God… oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. What do I do?” I sit down on the bed and drop my head down between my knees, hoping to avoid the rapidly setting in panic.
