Faster Hotter

by Colleen Masters

  Now, I’m just confused. My mother is not one to babble happily of love and happiness. She’s pragmatic, and practical, and economical with her words. This kind of sentiment from her just sounds...a little strange.

  “Anyway, take care. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you soon!”

  The message beeps to an end, and I stare down at my phone, puzzled. Harrison pokes his head into the room, stark naked save for the towel tied loosely around his waist.

  “Who was that?” he asks, nodding at my phone.

  “My mom just left me the weirdest, most chipper message,” I tell him.

  “Why is that weird?” he asks, rather quickly.

  “I...don’t know,” I say, cocking my head to the side, “You almost ready over there?”

  “Just about!” he calls, disappearing back into the bedroom.

  I look after him, puzzled by his sudden hurry. Is everyone just a little bit crazy today, or is it just me? I’m probably just imagining things—overexcited imagination, or something. The very air seems to vibrate with possibility, but that’s to be expected. It’s a momentous day, after all! With a smile fixed unwaveringly to my face, I memorize this snippet of time. It doesn’t get much better than this.

  Harrison and I flag down a cab and zip over to the West Village. Mr. Bishop opens the door for us, looking baffled but excited.

  “She’s waiting for you upstairs,” he tells me, “Go right on up. Harrison, you can stay down here with the rest of us men.”

  “Sounds good,” Harrison says, giving me a little push toward the stairs, “Go on, maid of honor, do your thing!”

  I all but sprint up the staircase, any lingering fatigue long forgotten. Bex’s room is down at the end of the hall, and I make tracks toward it. I step into the doorway and take in the scene. The dress we picked out hangs suspended before the window, illuminated by the sun. Bex is perched before her antique vanity, prepping her face. She looks up at me, fresh-faced and glowing—her eyes full of happiness and hope. Sudden, uncontrollable tears well up in my eyes at the sight of my best friend on the morning of her wedding.

  “Siena, what’s wrong?” she exclaims, hurrying to take my hands in hers.

  “You’re just...the most beautiful thing in the world...” I babble, “I can’t believe you’re getting married today!”

  “Honey, I haven’t even put the dress on yet,” she laughs, “You can’t be crying already. You’ll be dry as a bone by noon.”

  “I can’t help it,” I laugh, “I’m just so happy for you, Bex.”

  “Thank you, honey,” she says, beaming, “I’m just glad that you’re here with me.” She leans in and whispers conspiratorially, “The mothers were about to drive me absolutely fucking crazy this morning with their fussing. I had to make up last minute emergency errands to get them out of my hair!”

  “I’ll guard the door,” I promise her, “You shouldn’t be stressed out today. We’ll all get ready in peace, OK? I think you deserve that much today.”

  “You’re a life saver,” Bex sighs, sitting back down at her mirror, “I’m going to get started. Can you make sure Charlie’s OK?”

  “That’s right!” I exclaim. I almost forgot that I’m pulling “best man” duty, too. “I’ll be right back,” I tell Bex, and hurry back down to the first floor of the townhouse.

  The boys have all congregated in the living room, looking excited but unsure of what to do with themselves. Harrison and Enzo are talking animatedly by the French doors, just as they were at the restaurant. They fall silent the second I walk into the room, but I don’t have time to wonder about it now. I need to make sure the groom’s holding up OK.

  “Where’s Charlie?” I ask Gus and Mr. Bishop.

  “He’s out on the patio,” Gus tells me, shaking his head with a wistful smile, “I think the boy’s a bit nervous.”

  I cross to the doors and slip outside. Sure enough, Charlie is pacing back and forth across the little deck, his brows knitted. He’s practically vibrating with nervous energy, poor guy. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this way. Since I’ve known him, Charlie has always been the confident guy in the room. Sometimes, it even threatens to cross over into cockiness. But today is a different story.

  “What’s up, Chuck?” I say, closing the doors behind me.

  He looks up, a touch alarmed. But relief softens his shoulders as he spots me. “Siena,” he says, shoving a hand through his hair, “I’m afraid I’m a goddamn mess.”

  He’s still wearing his everyday clothes, clean-shaven but wide-eyed. I can’t help but be oddly moved by how out of sorts he is. This is the unflappable, stubborn boy I grew up with, going to pieces right before my eyes. If I didn’t already know how much he cares for Bex, this would be proof enough. It’s downright adorable.

  “Got a couple butterflies rustling around in your stomach there?” I ask, laying a friendly hand on his arm.”

  “More like a swarm,” he tells me, “I don’t know what the hell my problem is. I don’t get nervous. Not ever.”

  “Well, you’ve never gotten married before, either,” I remind him.

  “I just...I don’t want to mess this up,” he blurts out, looking down at his shoes.

  “Mess what up—you and Bex?” I ask, surprised.

  He nods bashfully, refusing to meet my gaze. “She’s way too good for me, Siena,” he says, “She’s just...perfect.”

  “You’re perfect together, Charlie,” I tell him, “You’re both so good for each other, and to each other. Remember that she’s just as lucky to have you as you are to have her.”

  “That’s crazy,” he laughs.

  “Trust me,” I reply, “I’m your best man. Woman. Whatever.”

  “I just want to be a good husband to her,” Charlie goes on, “I want her to have the life she really wants.”

  “And you can,” I tell him, “Just by being yourself. I know it’s a big step, but you’re ready. You’ve always been an old soul, Charlie. This makes sense for you.”

  “I don’t feel old right now,” he says, “I feel like a baby.”

  “You may cry like one when you see how gorgeous your bride is,” I smile, “But you’re no kid. The time is right, my friend. And now that you and Bex are both working for Ferrelli, your whole life is coming together. You should be excited!”

  “I am excited,” Charlie says, “But it’s kind of terrifying, isn’t it? Getting everything you’ve always wanted.”

  “Tell me about it,” I say, thinking of Harrison and our soon-to-be bundle of joy.

  “Of course,” Charlie says, “You must know exactly what I’m talking about. How are you keeping it together?”

  “I just try and be grateful for what I have, instead of fearful that it’ll disappear,” I tell him, “You can't enjoy your happiness if you’re constantly too worried about protecting it. Bex isn’t going anywhere, Charlie. She adores you. And trust me, that’s not something that happens often. Or ever, before you came along.”

  “Really?” Charlie asks, eyes wide.

  “Oh yeah,” I tell him, “Remember, I went through college with Bex. And even when she bothered to keep a boyfriend around, she never cared about any of them with a thousandth of the love she has for you. You’re it, buddy boy. So get used to the idea.”

  “Thank God you’re here, Siena,” Charlie breathes, “I needed that pep talk.”

  “Glad to help,” I smile, “Thank you for asking me to be here for you.”

  “As if there’s anyone else I’d ever ask,” he says, clapping me on the back.

  “Thanks bro,” I tease, “Now listen, are you going to be OK if I leave you down here with the men folk? Your soon-to-be-wife needs me to run interference on the moms.”

  “By all means,” Charlie says, “I feel much better now.”

  I give him a wink and slip back into the house. “He’s all yours,” I tell the assembled guys, “Just make sure he doesn’t put his arms in his pant legs or anything. See you fellas on the other side!”

>   I dash back upstairs to help Bex get ready, and to slip into the most awesome bridesmaid dress that has ever been. We’re in the homestretch, now. In a few short hours, it’ll be Charlie and Bex Spano, man and wife.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The morning fades away into the excitement of the afternoon in no time flat. Bex and I go to work with our hair and makeup, sitting side by side at her vanity mirror. I can’t keep my eyes off my best friend’s face as she gets ready. Her eyes are absolutely brimming with joy. She may have flawless makeup and a tumble of blonde curls that anyone would envy, but it’s that happiness that makes her truly stunning.

  “OK,” she says breathlessly. “It’s time for the dress.”

  I leap up excitedly and reach for her gown. “Are you sure you don’t want your mom and Mrs. Spano to help you into it?” I ask.

  “Nope,” she says, shaking her head, “I just want you here, Siena. But hold on—let’s do you first!”

  “Don’t worry about me,” I start to say, but Bex will have none of it.

  “Nonsense,” she says, producing my dusty blue maid of honor dress from the closet, “If you can help the bride, I can help the pregnant lady.”

  “Bex!” I squeal, “They might hear you—”

  “Good!” she laughs, “Then at least the secret will finally be out. What are you going to do, tell him on the way to the hospital?”

  “I know it sounds stupid,” I tell her, as she opens the back of the dress for me to step into, “But I kinda want to know what he thinks about getting married, first.”

  I feel Bex tense up beside me. “Is that so?” she asks, her voice strange.

  “Is that really terrible?” I ask nervously.

  “No! No. I think it’s...I think it’s a fine idea,” she says, clearing her throat. “But I don’t want to stress you out talking about it. Into the dress you go!”

  I let her zip me into the fifties-inspired dress, definitely a departure from my usual slinky style. But the wide skirt and high waist are perfect for my burgeoning body, even if the changes have only been slight so far.

  “OK, now it’s your turn,” I say, taking her wedding dress down from where it hangs.

  A reverent hush falls over us both as Bex gingerly steps into her dress, the tulle rustling gently in the silence. I hold my breath as I guide the zipper up her spine, securing her into her wedding gown. As one, we lift our eyes to the full length mirror beside the window.

  “Bex...” I breathe.

  “Oh my God...” she whispers.

  I knew that Bex would be a beautiful bride, but nothing could have prepared either of us for just how beautiful she is in this moment. She looks like she’s stepped down off Mount Olympus to grace us mortals with her presence. The gown falls down around her like a shapely stray cloud, and her hair falls in perfect blonde waves.

  “I’ll be damned,” she says, turning this way and that, “I clean up pretty good.”

  “Bex?” says her mother from the other side of the door, “We’re all ready for you downstairs, honey.”

  “Here we go,” Bex squeals, clutching my hands.

  “I love you so much, Bex,” I tell her, blinking back happy tears.

  “I love you too, Siena,” she smiles, “Now let’s go an get me hitched, yeah?”

  The small wedding party is assembled in the Bishops’ modest library. A string trio plays softly in the other room as we wait to enter. Mr. Bishop steps out into the foyer just as Bex comes down the stairs. He’s arrested by the sight of his gorgeous daughter, and wordlessly offers his arm. Bex takes it, beaming, and nods to me. I take a deep breath, clutch my simple bouquet of Gardenias, and make my way into the library.

  Everyone is standing around the bay windows, waiting with bated breath. Charlie and Gus stand side by side before the makeshift altar—Charlie staring raptly beyond me to catch the first glimpse of his bride. Enzo and Harrison stand patiently as Mrs. Spano and Mrs. Bishop clutch their arms in anticipation. I swallow a chuckle at the sight, and take my place beside Gus. The musicians, arranged along the far side of the room, suspend their tune and strike up a sweet, light bridal chorus. We all turn our eyes earnestly toward the door, and watch as Bex and her father enter.

  A sweeping intake of breath rings out through the room as the assembled guests behold the bride. Sudden tears take me by surprise as she walks toward us, her eyes fixed firmly on her husband-to-be. The look on Charlie’s face is one I’ll never forget. Gone and long forgotten are his nerves. In their place, only awe and admiration remain. Bex and her father draw up before us and hug, briefly but fiercely. There’s no talk of anyone giving her away—she’s always been her own woman to give.

  Charlie offers his hand to Bex, who entwines her fingers with his. They turn to face Gus, eyes wide and joyful. Charlie’s father begins.

  “We are gathered here today to join Bex and Charlie in marriage,” he starts, “You’ll have to forgive me if I seem a bit shaky. I’ve never officiated a wedding before. Did you know you can just get a certificate online and wham—officiate away? It’s crazy—”

  Charlie clears his throat softly, snapping Gus back to attention.

  “Yes, right,” he says, “As Charlie’s father, I’ve seen him go through every phase of his life. Some of those phases were great—playing catch, studying at university. And some of them—all of the teenage years, the terrible two’s—not so much. But what I can say now, is that never before in my son’s life have I seen him as happy, as confident, and as at peace with himself as he’s been since meeting Bex.”

  The moms sniffle in unison as Bex and Charlie trade a luminous look.

  “The love that you two have for each other is so apparent, so contagious, that you make the world a better place just by being together. And I couldn’t have dreamt up a better daughter than Bex if I tried. The bride and groom have requested, in so many words, that I skip all the boring ceremony stuff and get right to the good part.”

  That’s my cue. I hand over the rings I’ve been carrying, one to each. Bex and Charlie slip the simple gold bands onto each other’s ring fingers, grinning like mad.

  “And so, Charlie,” Gus goes on, “Do you take Bex to be your wife?”

  “I do,” Charlie says, looking intently into Bex’s eyes.

  “Bex, do you take Charlie to be your hus—”

  “I do,” Bex says, cutting him off in her excitement.

  “Then by the power vested in my by...the two of you,” Gus says, “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss—

  But by the time the words have left his mouth, Charlie and Bex are deep in the first kiss of their married lives. The moms weep happily onto Enzo and Harrison’s shoulders as the boys clap and holler for the newlyweds. The happy couple comes up for air, looking around at their dearly beloved. Who knew that such a tiny room could hold so much boundless love and excitement as this?

  As they hurry out of the library to snap a few pictures in the golden light of the afternoon, Harrison and I lock eyes across the room. Everyone else rushes out ahead, leaving us alone in the stately study. I hope that my eyes weren’t too wistful as I watched the ceremony. Though, would it be so terrible if Harrison knew just how badly I want to marry him?

  “You look incredible, Siena,” he says, planting a kiss on my forehead.

  “That was quite the service, right?” I reply, “Short and sweet.”

  “It was perfect for them,” Harrison agrees, “And they’re perfect for each other.”

  To think that less than a year ago, Harrison and Charlie were glaring at each other in a Barcelona bar, fighting over who got to buy me drinks. Quite a lot can happen in a year, I suppose. And even more to come.

  “I guess we should get out there,” I say, moving to go.

  “Siena, wait,” Harrison says, catching my arm, “I wanted to—”

  I’m distracted from his intent eyes as the door to the library creaks open once more. I look up and find myself staring into some very familiar, very
unexpected eyes. My mother, Camilla, sidles into the room, a lovely smile on her face.

  “Mom?” I exclaim, rushing to hug her, “What are you doing here?”

  “I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” she says, glancing at Harrison, “The Spano’s invited me for the reception, I was just coming to say hello.”

  “No, we were just—”

  My words cut off as I spot the harried look on Harrison’s face. Is he blushing? I look back and forth between him and my mother. Some unspoken communication seems to have passed between them. Why am I not in the loop, here?

  “We’d better report for photos, right?” Harrison says shortly, giving my mother a quick hug, “Then we can get to the good part—cocktail hour.”

  I let myself be led from the library, wondering what’s come over Harrison. What did my mother interrupt a moment ago? What was it that Harrison was so eager to discuss? Well, whatever it is, it’ll have to wait. We have a wedding reception to attend, after all.

  The after party spills out through the Bishop’s townhouse, bubbling like the champagne we raise in honor of the new couple. An elegant, delicious spread has been set out for the small gathering, and a fine selection of wine and whiskey is at the ready. We’re not even a dozen—even after my mom and then Shelby arrive for the reception—but we manage to fill the entire house with our energy. If three’s a party, then this eleven is a damned rager.

  I clink my fork against my glass of untouched champagne, commanding the attention of the room as best I can.

  “Excuse me,” I say, moving to the center of the room, “I believe that a speech is in order, here. Yeah?”

  “Speech! Speech!” Enzo chants tipsily. Shelby gives him a playful shove to stop his tongue as the others gather around me. Bex and Charlie stand hand-in-hand, beaming around at their closest friends and family. Harrison watches from my mother’s side, an excited but pensive look on his face.

  “As all of you know, I am doubly honored today to be Bex’s maid of honor and Charlie’s best ma—Woman. We still haven’t really nailed down the language.” I laugh.