"It's fine. There's not much to tell, and I'd rather not talk about it."
Not much to tell is the truth. It was simple and quick and devastating.
And over.
She holds the palm of her hand to her forehead and smushes her lips together. Without thinking, I imitate her smush and she laughs.
The sound is a relief, and I feel the tension I didn't know I was holding in my shoulders ease a little.
"I'm glad the job at the diner is working out. Cathy is telling everyone how wonderful you are, and that she should have hired you years ago for it. She would have tried to talk you into staying here instead of going away to college, just to keep you in her kitchen."
Now that would have been impossible, not to mention painful.
"She says that Michael plans to manage the diner when she and Mark decide to retire."
This is news to me. I knew he would work there, because it was the family business, but my own focus on the two of us married in our own house living our happy little lives didn't include much thought as to how the mortgage would get paid, or what sort of careers we would have.
"You look lovely in that dress. Much better than I did in it at the store. I’ve never even worn it anywhere."
She tugs at the back of the dress where I must have left the tag hanging out, then takes my hand like I'm a little girl again.
"Let's get going. I'm sure your dad is looking forward to that cake, although he'll have to wait a couple of hours for it. Hopefully he won't fall asleep during the ceremony."
Everyone's dad, except the bride and groom's, always seems to fall asleep during weddings in Valley Vale. It's almost a tradition.
My dad will probably fall asleep at mine.
The idea of my own wedding makes my hand flex in my mother's, and she pulls me closer to her as we walk out in the hallway. My sister and our dad are talking by the kitchen table, and Sydney's hands are fluttering in the air.
Another baton twirling explanation that he won't understand but still nods over as she continues.
"Everything will work out as it should, Jenny. You'll see."
But when I glance at my mom's face, she isn't looking at me, and her gaze is a little distant.
Is she reassuring me, or herself?
Chapter Eleven
I keep up a continual wave as people say hi and gesture from a distance, then nearly topple over when two of Sydney's friends crash into me at once.
"So how's life in the big city?"
"I can't wait to get out of this town!"
They both talk at once, and I can't help laughing. Bethany and Alaina have been twirling with Sydney since they were in elementary school, and I wonder that I haven't seen them at our house since I've been home.
Alaina, who is taller than I am now, backs away first and puts her arms around my sister.
"You look like twins!"
I don't get a chance to answer their initial questions, because the three of them are laughing now, and Bethany is whispering something to the other two. My smile is genuine and I can't hold it back, at least until I look away and lock gazes with Michael, who has a dainty, pale blonde woman on his arm who is the picture of perfection.
But he's looking at me, and not her.
"She's a very sweet girl."
Cathy's voice catches me off guard, and there's no way she wouldn't have noticed that I was staring. Did she notice that her son wasn't looking at his fiancée, but his ex-girlfriend?
And how long had she been standing there observing us?
"But I'm rather fond of you, so . . ."
She trails off after patting my shoulder.
What did she mean by that?
I make myself smile again, maintaining eye contact with Michael for a few seconds before looking away. Sydney and her friends huddle together in a pew, and our parents are already sitting beside my sister. Our dad has one arm stretched on the back of the pew behind our mother, his hand cupping her shoulder protectively.
I'm probably worrying too much about nothing, or I just have too much free time mentally as well as physically. I should be worrying about myself and what I'm doing, not my parents, who have always had their act together.
If something was wrong, they would tell us, or at least me, wouldn't they?
"Hi, Jenny."
Parker Davis stops beside me, and I realize that I'm just standing here in the church aisle like an idiot, blocking everyone's way.
"Hey, Parker. Did your dad tell you we work together sometimes? He's a good guy."
His face lights up as he nods.
"Yeah, he is. I'll tell him you said that, thanks."
He lifts a hand to someone, and nods to me while he walks away as I touch a tiny strand of hair that has come out of the tight braid Sydney wove earlier.
"Jenny."
It's a single word, but I don't think I will ever tire of hearing it from Michael's lips. The whole time we were together, I loved hearing him say my name. Someone once told me that the most beautiful sound to anyone's ears is their own name, and it's true when it came to Michael.
Still holds true at this moment, as much as I would rather it didn't.
"Hi, Michael."
My hand fists against my neck where I was touching my hair, and I force it down to rest at my side as I stand a little straighter.
But why? I don't have to impress him or his fiancée, do I?
"This is Emily. Emily, this is Jenny."
Emily lifts a hand and I take it. As we shake hands, her grip easy and gentle, I feel my stomach clench and force myself to smile. Again.
"It's so nice to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you from Michael and people here in town."
I bet, I think. Who knows what Michael has told her, and as far as everyone else in town, anything goes.
"Me, too. I mean, I've heard about you, too."
I sound like a moron, but Emily drops my hand and shakes her head.
"There's not much to tell. I'm taking online classes this year, so it only made sense for me to move in to help my grandparents. I lived here when I was little, too, so it's not entirely new to me."
How old is she? I don't ask, but I wonder if we are close in age, and if she had been old enough to go to school when she was here before. We would have been in classes together, in such a small town and tiny school.
Would I remember her?
"Hopefully we'll see each other more, although I spend most of my time with my grandparents. Maybe we could get coffee sometime?"
Is she serious? There's nothing in her expression or voice that seems remotely sarcastic or mean.
Nothing to indicate that she is worried I'll try to hook up with Michael, or that she wants to rub their engagement in my face.
But I definitely don't want to have coffee or anything else with her. That might be childish, but it's true.
"I see the bride's father in the back, so we should probably sit down soon."
Michael comes to my rescue before I can answer with a lie or a snotty remark, and I don't look at him for fear that my thanks would be obvious on my face.
"Nice talking to you."
As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I turn away from them both and shuffle over to the pew where my parents, Sydney, and her friends are sitting, and slide in next to my mom.
"Everything okay?"
I nod and glance around, realizing that the little conversation I just shared was front and center, the center quite literally, of church, and people are paying very close attention to me.
Why is my reaction so important to them?
Sydney leans over our parents and whispers to me loudly enough for the people in front of us to turn their heads a little to listen.
"She's not as pretty as you."
I snort loudly. That is definitely not true, but even if it was, I don't think Michael would choose the woman he wanted to marry based on looks alone. There had been plenty of girls better looking than me at school, but I was the only
one for him, just as he had been for me.
Our mother taps my thigh and stands up, so I follow her lead and smooth my dress over my legs as I straighten up. When I turn to face the aisle again, a familiar tune sings from the church piano, and I can't help humming along.
I'm not the only one.
My left hand opens and closes at my side, and I realize that this is the first wedding I've ever attended without Michael by my side. Without thinking, I pull my hand up to my chest and let it fist against my heart.
I'm not the same girl who was crushed at the end of last summer, who sped out of Valley Vale and onto the Interstate to drown her sorrow and failure in the big university environment, but I'd be lying to myself if I thought that it didn't hurt to see Michael with another girl, not after all the years we spent together.
I feel my mother's hand on my shoulder as the bride, Michelle, walks past us, her shy smile visible under a thin veil that reaches her chin. She gave me my first and last perm back in sixth grade, and never stops apologizing for it every time I see her. Levi, who is about three times her size and made for lumberjack work, is waiting at the steps that lead to the altar, bouncing from foot to foot.
He was the kid in school that the teachers wanted bottles of Ritalin to control, but his parents wouldn't hear of it. Shop class in high school led him to machine work, and those same teachers had to eat crow now that he was a successful businessman.
With a calm, easygoing woman about to be his life partner. Someone who can also cut his unruly, auburn hair as often as she thinks she needs to.
As soon as Michelle is out of my sight, Michael comes into my view, and so does Emily.
She's standing at his side, and while she holds his hand as I've done at every Valley Vale wedding before this one for the past five years, both of them are watching me.
I turn to face the front, determined to pay attention to the service. My dad leans down to press a kiss on my mom's head, and I smile, reminding myself that whatever is going on between the two of them will work out fine.
Hopefully Michelle and Levi will have the same happiness in their own marriage.
Everyone responds as we always do at weddings, folding our hands together in prayer when instructed, clapping at the end when the pastor proclaims them husband and wife and presents them to the rest of our community, and my smile is real when the two of them stride past me toward the back of the church.
"Now, the good part!"
I hear my dad's voice behind me, and turn to find him leaning in front of my mother, who shakes her head.
She's smiling, too, though, and I'm relieved to see it.
We all follow the happy couple in a big clump of figures moving from the pews to the social hall, and I hold back a little with Sydney and her friends so I don't accidentally get too close to Michael and Emily.
"Jenny!"
Cathy grabs my arm and pulls me into a hug before I can respond.
"Sydney, I can't wait until school is over so you can start working with us."
My sister and I won't be working together all that much, with me in the kitchen early and her in the dining room after opening, but the thought of us working in the same place, even for an hour or so, has become comforting.
Sydney is so outgoing and personable, and she'll make a killing on tips. I'll go home with muffin batter caked along my neck, but I’ve grown used to it.
Before my sister and I can respond, Cathy waves and pushes against the tide of bodies towards a door at the side of the church. That's right, I remember, she was headed back to the diner to work so everyone else could attend the reception.
I wish she had been willing to let me help, but now that I'm here with Sydney and everyone else, I'm glad she didn't. There's nothing that can boost my mood more than my little sister and her goofy smile.
She and her friends will probably break into some majorette dance routine during the party, depending on the songs the DJ chooses. It's the same DJ for every wedding reception, and he usually has the same set of songs. A little 80s, a little 90s, leading up to whatever is hot on the charts today. Nothing too eclectic or crazy, which never bothered me before.
After spending nearly a year in the largest city in the state, I'm realizing how much Valley Vale is even more remote than I thought, not just by size and geographic position but by culture.
This isn't necessarily a bad thing, but I'm not looking forward to the same songs, different wedding day, although I can't help but laugh thinking about certain elderly citizens dancing along, with no shame or self-consciousness.
Will I feel that way when I'm their age, unafraid to do what feels good or just enjoy myself without worrying about what anyone else thinks?
"You look so serious. Is baking getting the best of you?"
Parker is suddenly beside me, or maybe not so suddenly. I've been absorbed in my random thoughts, one trailing after another, and his voice pulls me from them.
I shake my head, and as I return his smile, I remember something his dad told me when I first started working at the diner.
"Hey, I know you go to Kent State, but your father mentioned you're studying architecture. My sister is planning to major in that, too."
As if on cue, Sydney slips her hand in my elbow and peeks around.
"What? I heard the word architecture."
So there's a detail not everyone in town must know, if my sister wasn't aware. Why hadn't I thought to tell her right after Parker's dad told me? The two of them start talking like old friends, and leave me straggling behind, although I'm still smiling. She'll keep him busy for a long while, but he's clearly excited to share his experience with her, if his own smile is any indication.
When I slow down before turning the corner into the back hallway to allow a few people to go ahead of me, I realize that I've lost my parents at some point, so I glance around to see where they've ended up. It doesn't really matter, as we'll all be in the social hall in a few minutes anyway.
But instead of finding either of them, I see Michael and Emily, lips locked as they stand with Emily's hands curled behind Michael's neck, and I push open the restroom door beside me to hide.
Chapter Twelve
Weddings are romantic, and of course, couples and maybe non-couples are moved to express their affection, but I wasn't ready to see that.
I'm not sure I'll ever be ready.
Surprisingly, no one is in the restroom, so I lean over the counter and stare at my reflection in the mirror. My face is flushed, and eyes look damp and a little crazy, my pupils dilated and dark.
What if I had talked to Michael after that party, when he called and texted and asked why I had left on my own.
Why I had kissed Jonah.
Would we have been able to work through whatever it was that happened, between him kissing another girl and me, in retaliation, kissing another boy?
I stand up straighter and hunch my shoulders as I close my eyes, just as the door opens.
"Oh, hi, Jenny."
When I open my eyes, Emily is behind me, her sweet smile the opposite of my glare in the mirror.
She steps over to the second oval mirror on the wall that hovers above the other sink, and pulls a gold tube of lipstick out of her tiny lavender and white purse, which hangs over her shoulder on a thin gold chain.
"Hey, Emily."
I force the words from my mouth. After all, it isn't her fault that Michael and I screwed things up between us.
But why did he get together with her so quickly afterwards?
"I wish my family had never moved away from this town. I love how everyone gets together for weddings like this, and how everyone knows each other. It's so comforting, you know?"
Emily slides the pale pink lipstick on, then presses her lips together quickly as she tucks the gold tube away. Her focus captures mine in the mirror in front of her.
"Michael told me that the two of you were a couple in high school. I don't want to make this difficult or awkward for you."
I can't help the sigh that comes from deep within me, and I don't want to. Why should I worry about how she feels or what she wants?
"I know something bad happened to cause the two of you to break up, but he doesn't like to talk about it. I hope, though, that you can at least be friends so he doesn't carry around these negative feelings."
Friends? I blink a few times as I consider everything she's just said. Negative feelings? Wasn't he the one who kissed someone else first?
Wait. He didn't tell her that? He didn't tell her about anything that happened that night?
I realize that my mouth is hanging open a little, just enough for her to probably notice, but I leave it like that as I shake my head.
"We're all adults here. This isn't high school anymore, and I can get along with him just fine."
Without thinking, I look away from her and back at my own reflection, taking a moment to pat at the wisps of hair that have escaped from my braid. My forehead is warm, and I rest the palm of my hand against it for a second.
"Maybe we can be friends, too?"
I close my eyes at Emily's words, but don't respond. After a few moments, I feel movement behind me as she walks out of the restroom, the door closing gently behind her.
A very immature reaction on my part, but how in the world can she expect friendship from me?
Before I can step away from the counter, the restroom door opens and Sydney rushes in.
"I wondered where you were! Parker's been telling me about the new architecture building at Kent State, and the great studio space they have. I was already considering Kent but since we haven't been there to visit, I didn't know all these details."
I rest my hands on my hips and force my lips into a smile.
"Sounds cool. Another road trip idea for this summer?"
Without a word, she moves closer and rests against me, sliding her arms through the triangles my own arms have made as I keep my hands on my hips. I can't help but hug her back. She'll be a lot taller than me soon, I think, and won't feel like a baby sister anymore.
Not physically, at least.
"I saw them together, so I know you did. I wish you would have said something to him after the party. You should be together."
When You Were Mine Page 7
