The Truth About Ever After (Three Girls)

by Rachel Schurig

  “Perfect. Man, I may as well go home, you guys have it covered.”

  Michael smiled at me once more before leaving me alone in the dining room. I looked around, checking everything off against a mental list in my head. White linen tablecloths, matching chair covers, a vase of flowers on every table, table set with the club’s finest china and real silver flatware. It was perfect—a bit impersonal for my taste, but the kind of event that would please the Vandermarks, I was sure.

  I set to work, pulling black-and-white pictures of Sarah and her fiancé out of the box I had brought in. Sarah’s request for decorations had been lots of flowers, and lots of pictures of herself. I had worked with a photographer to get these black-and-whites printed out from her engagement photos. I looked down at the one in my hand. It was a beautiful shot—the photographer was obviously very talented—but I couldn’t help but think it would be a better picture if either of them actually looked happy in it.

  Once I had set up the pictures and placed the white gold picture frames (from Tiffany’s, of course) around the room, I headed out to the hallway to set up the poster-sized print on the tripod the club had provided.

  “Kiki, this is a disaster!”

  I spun around to find Sarah striding toward me. She looked beautiful in a cream-colored Michael Kors shift. It hung off her slight frame like she was a runway model. I could have never pulled it off.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked. “You look gorgeous, by the way, bride-to-be.”

  She waved off my compliment. “They’re only providing us with two valets,” she said, breathing heavily. “Can you believe that? Two!”

  I bit my tongue so that I wouldn’t tell her that the members-only parking lot always had plenty of spaces, and it wouldn’t kill her guests to walk ten feet into the building. “Don’t worry,” I said instead. “I’ll talk directly with Michael and get this resolved. You are not supposed to stress out about anything today. That’s my job.”

  Her face relaxed. “Thank you,” she said. “Can I go inside and peek?”

  “If you want,” I said. “The room is almost ready to go, but the cake hasn’t arrived yet.”

  “That’s okay,” she said. “I can see the cake later.”

  I followed her into the room, crossing my fingers behind my back. I may not like Sarah very much, but I had worked damn hard on this shower, and I did want her to like it.

  “Oh, my gosh,” she murmured. “Kiki, this is beautiful, exactly how I pictured it!”

  She turned to me, her face alight with a smile. I felt a jolt of pleasure shoot through me.

  “I’m glad you like it,” I told her sincerely. “I need to set up for the games. Are you and your bridesmaids in a room upstairs?”

  “Yes. They had mimosa and pastries set out for us when we arrived; it was so nice.”

  I smiled again. “I thought you might like that. Now, go upstairs and relax. I’ll send your mom up to fetch you guys when everything is ready.”

  After Sarah left, I marveled at her ability to still make me feel like I needed her approval. What was it about this girl that made me want to please her so bad? It was no different than any of the compliments she had paid me over the years. Kara and I would bitch about how mean she was, but as soon as she said something nice to us we would go all giggling and simpering. I thought of what Eric had always said about her, and felt the now-familiar accompanying pang about the state of our relationship. I knew Eric was right about her, that Sarah was mean, judgmental, and manipulative, so why the heck did I care what she thought?

  ***

  The shower was in full swing and we had yet to hit any snags. The games I’d planned had gone over great, the food was delicious, the spiked punch was flowing, and everyone seemed to be having a good time. All I had to do now was get through the cake and the gifts and we’d be good to go, one step closer to putting this wedding in the books.

  “Kiki, you’ve done such a nice job here,” Beth said, coming up to sit beside me. “I feel so bad that I haven’t helped too much with the planning. It’s so hard being a mother, Kiks; you’re so lucky to be free of that.”

  I smiled at her tightly. “I’m sure your little boy makes it all worth it.”

  “Oh, of course,” she cooed, in that terribly simpering way she had. Beth was pretty and well dressed, and everything else that was required of a young lady in Sarah’s circle, but I had always thought she was a bit plain. I wondered what she would look like without any makeup on. I didn’t think that I had ever once, in all the years I had known her, seen her without her makeup on—and we’d had gym together back at school.

  “So what about you?” she asked, leaning toward me conspiratorially. “Any family plans on the way for you?”

  I grimaced. What was it about people that they thought they had the right to ask such a personal question? I briefly considered telling her that I’d had a miscarriage and any mention of babies would send me over the edge to nervous breakdown. That would probably shut her up. Instead I smiled and told her Eric and I didn’t want to rush things.

  She gave me a sympathetic look. “I just hate seeing you work so hard, Kiki. It doesn’t seem… appropriate. We never see you around anymore, you never come to the club or to any of the Junior League stuff. Wouldn’t you be happier if you could quit your job?”

  Take deep breaths, I repeated, over and over in my head. Do not disappoint Jen by making a scene at this shower.

  “I love my job, Beth,” I said, giving her my best fake smile. “I have no plans to give it up, even if I had children.”

  Beth stared at me in horror, and I almost laughed out loud. I wondered if she knew a single woman who had worked after having kids. Hell, she probably didn’t even know anyone who’d worked after getting married. In the world of Beth and Sarah, it just wasn’t done.

  “Wow,” she said, trying to cover her dismay with a smile. She ended up looking like she had just swallowed something sour. “I never realized you were so career ambitious, Kiki. You must get that from your father.”

  It was subtle, but knowing Beth like I did, it was a slap all the same. My father wasn’t born into money; he made it on his own. These were the only people in the world who didn’t see ambition as a good thing.

  “Probably,” I said, smiling broadly. “I’m very grateful for it. It makes for a very balanced, happy life.” I raised my eyebrow a fraction of an inch, issuing a warning. I have more than you ever will, sweetheart, I thought to myself. Don’t you dare mess with me.

  I saw Beth’s face close up a little bit. “Well,” she said, somewhat stiffly, “I’m glad you’re happy. I don’t imagine it’s the life for me, but I suppose it would do for some people.”

  There was a time in my life when her words would have sent me crying to the bathroom. The obvious judgment and disdain in her voice would have cut me like a knife. But that girl was gone, replaced with the confidence and happiness of good friends, a loving family, and a kick-ass career.

  “Yes,” I said, my first real smile of the conversation breaking across my face. “It wouldn’t be the life for some people.” I allowed my eyes to flick down across her briefly, my intention clear. You could never do what I do. You would fall flat on your overly-made-up little face.

  “Nice talking to you, Beth,” I said, standing up. “I should get back to work now.”

  I walked away from the table, feeling immeasurably proud of myself for the way I had handled things. I would get through the rest of this shower, because this was my job and I was good at it. And all the Sarahs and Beths of the world couldn’t take that away from me.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Eric was waiting for me in the kitchen when I got home after the shower. I was surprised; he’d been working Saturdays for weeks now, and usually wasn’t home until late into the evening. He had removed his tie and unbuttoned his top few buttons. With his shirtsleeves rolled up, he looked rumpled and tired. The wary expression on his face put my guard up immediately and I idly wondered i
f we were going to fight again. I wasn’t sure I had the energy.

  “We need to talk,” Eric said, and I felt my stomach drop. What now?

  “Can I have a minute first?” I asked. Eric nodded, quiet, and watched as I took off my heels and my jacket. I walked to the fridge, ready to pour myself a glass of wine, but decided that wouldn’t help me on the exhaustion front. Instead I put the kettle on, hoping that tea would soothe me without making me want to go to sleep.

  “What’s up?” I asked, facing him across the kitchen island.

  “My boss wants me to go to Chicago for a few months.”

  I stared at him, feeling shocked, but he gave no further explanation. “What are you talking about?”

  He sighed. “There’s a project they want me to work on there, some crossover with a partner’s firm. My boss requested I go.”

  “A few months? How long is a few?”

  “At least two,” he said, scratching his neck. “Maybe three.”

  “I don’t believe this,” I muttered, wishing I would have gone for the wine after all. “When would you go?”

  “Next week.”

  I just stared at him, having no idea how to react. He was giving me nothing to go on here, no sign that he was either excited or unhappy.

  “How do you feel about this?” I asked, suddenly irritated with him. Why was that happening so much lately?

  Eric shrugged. “I don’t really have a choice.”

  “Of course you do—” I started to say, but Eric held up a hand.

  “Please don’t say we can talk to your father,” he said, his voice tight.

  “I wasn’t going to.”

  “Well, good.”

  We stared at each other over the island, neither of us talking. I couldn’t believe this was happening. He was going to leave for three months? And he didn’t even have anything to say about it?

  “Should I help you pack then?” I asked, my voice cold. I saw his eyes widen slightly across the room, but he didn’t respond. Feeling suddenly frustrated beyond measure, I turned on my heel and stalked out of the kitchen.

  “That’s all you have to say?” he asked, following me into the living room.

  “Well, you sure as hell don’t seem to have much to say,” I said, not looking at him. “I have no idea how you feel about this. Are you pissed? Excited about the opportunity? Happy to be away from me?”

  “Real mature, Kiki,” he muttered.

  “Well, what do you want me to say?” I shot back. “You’re just standing there. You’ve given me no indication of how you feel.”

  “I feel like shit about it, okay?”

  “Okay.” He didn’t go on and I sighed. “Care to tell me why?”

  “Because I hate my job and I’m fucking trapped. It wouldn’t matter if I wanted to go, I’d have to do it anyhow. But at least if I go it gives me a chance to prove that I can do something away from the benefit of my father-in-law.”

  I stared at him, completely lost for words. What was he saying?

  Eric met my eyes and sighed. “The truth, Kiki, is that I’m not happy at work. Not at all. Going to work for your father was one of the biggest mistakes I’ve ever made.”

  I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. “What are you talking about?” I whispered.

  “I’m not happy there. I haven’t been.”

  “But… but, why?”

  “Because every single person in that department thinks I only got the position because of my wife.”

  I stared at him, feeling cold. “Do they say that?”

  Eric laughed bitterly. “They say enough. It’s implied, every day. No one thinks I have what it takes to get there on my own. And then this damn promotion. Things haven’t exactly been cheery around the office with the three guys I passed over for the job.”

  “People will always be bitter when someone else gets the job they want—”

  “It’s more than that. They think I got the promotion because my father-in-law talked to our manager.”

  There was something in his gaze that I didn’t like, not one bit. “Are you accusing me of something, Eric?” He didn’t respond. “Well, since you obviously have your doubts, let me just make it clear that I did not say anything to my father about that promotion. I can’t tell you whether or not he talked to your manager, but I will say that I have never known my father to be anything but professional in all aspects of that company.”

  Eric ran a hand through his hair. “It wouldn’t matter if he came out and said something or not. The implication is that the managers would give me the easy track to make the big boss happy.”

  I had no response to that. For all I knew, it was entirely possible. “You’ve felt this way since you started working there?” He nodded, not meeting my eyes. “Well, why the hell didn’t you say something before?”

  “What would you have said?” he asked. “You were so dead set on me taking the job—”

  “That’s not true!” I cried, my temper flaring. “I didn’t push you into that job and you know it. I never pressured you!”

  “Maybe not out loud, but it was obvious you wanted me to take it,” he said. He suddenly looked angry, the weariness slipping from his face. “It’s the way you people always operate. Doling out your charity on us poor losers, and acting so nice about it, like it’s no big deal. Like you’re all too good to even notice how benevolent you are. So someone would have to be an ass to even question it.” Eric’s face was twisted up in bitterness, practically unrecognizable to me. This was not the man I married. “Your whole family was acting like it was some amazing gift, that someone like me would even be offered a position working with someone as fucking perfect as your father—”

  Eric stopped suddenly. I wondered if he had caught sight of my face. I was sure I had gone pale—I felt like I was about to faint. I had never heard him talk that way about my family before. Hell, I’d rarely even heard him raise his voice at me, let alone use that kind of language. What else was he keeping bottled up inside?

  “Kiki, I didn’t mean that.” His voice was softer now, much more like himself, but I could barely bring myself to look at him.

  “I’m sorry you feel that way,” I said, turning away from him. I could hear my voice shaking but I ordered myself not to lose it. I’d learned years ago the way to respond when someone attacked. I’d had plenty of experience with taunts at school, taunts from people I had thought were my friends, from members of my own family even, so many that I was an expert at it by now. “It was never my intention to make you feel badly,” I continued, my voice stronger now. “I’m sorry if that was the case.”

  “Kiki.” Eric sounded sad now, guilty. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

  “I’m going out for some air,” I said, working hard to make my voice sound detached.

  “Look at me,” Eric begged, reaching out for my arm. As he pulled me around to face him, something in me snapped. I was tired of pretending that my feelings didn’t exist. Tired of people pulling me down for things I couldn’t control.

  “Don’t you touch me,” I said, my voice low. “Don’t you dare touch me, Eric Thompson. In fact, you can get the hell out of this condo right now.”

  He stared at me, shock clear on his face. Somehow, that expression made me even angrier. “I’m not kidding,” I snapped, shaking his hand off my arm. “Go to Chicago and prove to everyone that you don’t need us.” He still didn’t move so I took a step closer. “Get out, Eric. Since you’re so offended that my father’s money bought this place. Since you’re so much better than us. No one is making you stay. No one is making you have anything to do with us. So just get out.”

  Eric just stared at me. He looked like he was about to burst into tears.

  “Fine,” I muttered, my breathing heavy. “Fine, I’ll go then.” I stomped over to the door, picking up my purse from the side table. I spun around to face him. He was standing in the exact same spot, seemingly frozen. “I want you to not be here when I get back.”


  Without waiting for a response I pulled the door open and stepped into the hall, slamming the door behind me, my husband on the other side.

  Chapter twenty-seven

  For the first time, I was grateful for Sarah’s wedding. Grateful, even, that Jen was out of commission. A huge wedding for a spoiled rich girl meant a lot of work. As long as I was working, I was okay. If I could just make myself busy enough to not think about Eric, I would be fine. I stayed at the office well past eleven every night, and when I got home I was usually too exhausted to do much else but fall into bed.

  I could almost ignore how much I missed him.

  After our huge fight I had gone to my parents’. I didn’t want to tell them what was wrong; they would be so hurt if they knew how he really felt. So I had simply lied and told them Eric had to work late and I didn’t want to be on my own. I wasn’t sure if they bought it—for all I knew, my dad knew Eric’s schedule better than I did.

  The following week, Eric packed a few suitcases and went to Chicago. We had barely spoken during the intervening nights. I was angry and hurt and not inclined to believe anything he told me by way of apology. You just didn’t say stuff like that if you didn’t mean it. It didn’t come from nowhere. How long had that been building up in him?

  Luckily, I didn’t have much time to dwell. The day of Sarah’s wedding dawned hot and sunny. I was grateful she had decided on an indoor reception; the original plan had involved a tent out on the lawns of the club. We would have been sweltering. The outside ceremony was going to be bad enough.

  I got ready quickly, wearing a little sundress to keep cool for the set-up. I would change into something nice later. As I brushed my teeth, I caught sight of myself in the mirror, and felt my stomach drop. I looked terrible. I must have lost about ten pounds in the last few months. While I normally would have been thrilled to be a smaller size, the loss somehow did not suit me. I looked tired and sick, my skin pale and my eyes huge in my face.

  I’m resting next week, I reminded myself. Jen and I had nothing big booked. I was going to sleep in late and take long lunches.