by M. E. Carter
Hell, the random shit she’s told me about her bridezilla sister has me running scared, and all I’m doing is attending the wedding. I can’t imagine how stressed Rian must be having to participate. No wonder Quinn doesn’t make her blink twice.
Knowing Rian needed me here to support her is what motivated me to jump in a cab and spend my Saturday afternoon in a church. When she mentioned the open bar at the reception, I knew my attendance was especially important. It’s not pretty.
Well, actually, it kind of is. Even with raccoon eyes and bedhead, Rian always looks pretty. But I suspect the bride would be way less forgiving of her bridesmaid passing out than I would be. Not only is this the perfect excuse to see her outside the office, I’m genuinely worried about how this night will end. I’m not sure if Rian’s family is always hypercritical of her. I hope not. But either way, I’m not taking any chances. She needs someone in her corner who doesn’t care what anyone else thinks. That’s me.
The white church sits on the corner of the block, grand and ornate in its architecture. The structure itself must be at least a hundred years old, but it’s obviously been lovingly maintained by the congregation. Stepping through the oversized wooden doors, I realize my assessment is right. Stylistically, the interior is more open and airy than the original building would have been. Plus, there are some columns that are clearly not original and probably added for structural support. New carpet. New paint. And it looks like new pews in the sanctuary. I’m impressed by how whoever designed the space was able to update it while maintaining the character of the time period it was built.
The only thing I might change is the decorations. There is no doubt a wedding is about to happen because flowers and tulle and small twinkly lights are everywhere, in every shade of red. I didn’t even realize there were so many variations, but apparently, whoever is in charge grabbed one of those color wheels, picked a point on the red side, and just kept moving their cursor back and forth from pale pink to vampire food red when deciding on the decorations. There is no other explanation for how nothing in here is the exact same color and yet everything matches correctly.
“Carlos.”
That’s my cue.
Turning, I can’t stop my mouth from falling open. Rian isn’t just gorgeous, she’s practically a vision sent straight out of one of my fantasies.
Her dark hair is long and wavy, as if it’s been styled for a television appearance. Her smoky makeup makes the blue flecks in her eyes sparkle. Her skin is so flawless, she’s practically glowing. And that’s just above her shoulders.
My eyes continue their path downward, taking in her outfit. The red dress cinches under her ample breasts, not only showing off her cleavage, but also accentuating her hourglass shape. The flowy fabric ends mid-knee and her strappy silver heels show off her sexy calves that flex whenever she walks. Kickboxing has definitely built up some of that muscle. I also notice that her toenails are colored a shade of pink which makes her skin look more tan than normal. Who knew I had a foot fetish? I’m not even sure I did until this moment right here, because damn, those are some sexy toes.
“You look… wow,” I’m finally able to croak out, still unable to stop staring at her.
A slight blush covers her cheeks, and I can tell she’s pleased with my assessment. “I look like an apple.”
“Red delicious is my favorite.”
It’s her turn to look stunned, but then she bursts out laughing. “There ya go, turning on the charm for the ladies again.”
I can’t help my smile. I like making her laugh. I like making her happy. It feels like it comes naturally when I’m around her. “It worked, didn’t it?”
She nods gratefully. “It did. Thank you. It’s been,” her eyes widen with emphasis, “a looong day.”
Looking down at my watch, I realize how grievous that statement is. “It’s not even two o’clock yet.”
“So, you understand my point.”
“Your crazy text messages helped clarify things for me.”
She groans. “Seriously. She spends weeks bitching about how I don’t do enough to help her, but the second I try to spread out the train of her dress so it doesn’t wrinkle, I’m trying to take over for the wedding planner? How is helping her look nice in her dress taking over? And since when does she have a wedding planner?”
I pull Rian close and put my arms around her, hugging her to me. Rubbing her back, I quietly reassure her it’s almost over. Just a few more minutes until the ceremony begins and Bridezilla pulls back her claws. I also make a mental note to have a strawberry margarita waiting for her as soon as the bridal party is introduced at the reception. She’s going to need it.
It takes a few minutes, but eventually she takes a deep breath and pulls away feeling much less tense than she did a few minutes ago. “Thank you. For being here, I mean. Just knowing there’s at least one person who couldn’t care less about this shindig means a lot.”
I open my mouth to tell her there isn’t anywhere I’d rather be, which is the truth, but I’m cut off before I begin.
“Rian.” Her attention diverts to someone behind me and immediately she pulls away further and some of her shoulders tense up again. It automatically puts me on high alert.
“Mom. What’s wrong? Does Laney need something?”
Ah. And now I understand where the tension came from. I’m feeling a bit of it myself the longer her mother looks at me like she’s assessing who I am, why I’m here, and what my intentions are.
Yeah. I’m understanding Rian more and more.
“No, nothing at all. I just wanted to know who your… friend… is.” She continues looking at me like I’m surely a figment of her imagination. Or the Big Bad Wolf here to blow the church down.
Rian doesn’t even seem to notice, just immediately snaps into action. “Oh! Of course. Sorry. Mom, this is Carlos. Carlos, this is my mom, Riann.” Her hand moves back and forth between us as she speaks.
Rian’s mom, who I’m now referring to as “The Creeper” since she hasn’t yet blinked while she stares, holds her hand out to shake mine. “Are you sitting on the bride’s side or the groom’s side?”
The question confuses me. Did she not just see me hugging her older daughter? Rian never mentioned anything wrong with her mother, so I can only assume this is another one of the famous passive-aggressive comments that seem to be the norm in this family.
“I told you I was bringing a plus-one, Mother.” Rian crosses her arms over her chest defensively. The movement distracts me momentarily when the tops of her breasts jiggle. That’s not being a jack ass. She just has a really nice rack. However, I sense a showdown coming on, so I tear my focus away from my favorite part of her red dress and put it back where it belongs… on the simmering family drama.
“You told us you were bringing a friend, not a date. If we’d known you were bringing a man, it wouldn’t have been such a nasty conversation.”
Somehow, I doubt that, but I opt to stay silent. I might be here for Rian’s sake, but this is something they need to work out. I’m not that important in her life yet.
“I did tell you it was a date. Laney opted not to believe me, and you took her side. That’s not my problem.” Rian drops her arms and waves her hand as if she’s done with the conversation. “It’ll be fine. I don’t have to sit at the bridal table, and Aunt Helga is in the hospital, so it frees up one extra place setting at a regular table. I’m sure Laney won’t mind when I tell her the visual balance issue has been fixed.”
No idea what that comment means, so I avoid it while doing my best to help her out. “Well, I’m a picky eater, so I doubt I’ll do more than just sit there anyway.”
Rian’s eyebrows shoot up. “Uh, no way, Mister. There is a huge dance floor, and I want to try that move we saw on that dancing show the other day.”
I groan my response. “I told you I don’t know how to salsa. My mother is Norwegian. We only dance slowly in a circle. With a pole in the middle.”
For
the second time in as many seconds, Rian’s eyebrows shoot up again. “Did you just say you know how to pole dance? Does Nancy know about this extra skill set?”
She squeals as I grab her waist and pull her flush to me. “That is not what I said, and don’t you dare go starting the rumor mill at the office. You’re still in your probationary period, ya know, and the boss doesn’t take kindly to rabble rousers.”
She laughs, knowing full well that I’d be a fool to fire her for several very important reasons. Number one being how good she is at her job. “Oh, well, by all means, we’ll keep it a secret.”
“Yeah, you do that,” I respond playfully, interrupted only when her mother clears her throat.
“Well, since that’s all settled, Carlos, we’re delighted to have you. Now I don’t mean to be a buzzkill but the ceremony is set to begin in about five minutes, so, Rian, you need to head back to your sister.”
“Okay. I’ll be there in a second.”
Having been dismissed, Rian’s mother turns and walks away, back toward a man with a flower on his lapel. I assume he’s the usher, which means I really do have a short amount of time before he escorts the mother of the bride down the aisle.
“I need to go sit down,” I say, kissing Rian on the nose. “You’ll be fine. At this point, it’s so close to being a done deal, there’s nothing else your sister can spring on you.”
“You underestimate her ability to surprise me in the worst possible way.”
I smile at her sarcasm. “Then just remember there is an open bar as a reward for playing nice.”
“Dating for less than a week and you already know the way to my heart,” Rian says with a laugh and gives me a quick peck on the lips. It’s the first one we’ve had in a couple of days and my chest feels full just knowing she did it in front of her mother. “I’ll see you at the reception?”
“Text me if you need a ride,” I tack on as she walks away, her hips swaying back and forth accentuating those sexy ass calves. Seriously. She’s a knockout.
Having no reason to hang out in the foyer anymore, I make my way into the sanctuary where there is more of the same… flowers, tulle, twinkly lights. It’s not gaudy, but it’s certainly not simplistic. The flowers alone must have cost a fortune.
I’m shocked by how many people are here as well. What are there… a couple of hundred guests? It’s the largest wedding I’ve been to since Marlene and Mart got married straight out of college almost twenty years ago. Back then, inviting everyone you’d ever met was the thing to do. It’s not something I can see for myself, though. Seems like such a waste of money. I’d rather have something small and simple. None of this bigger is better crap. Only the closest of friends and family in attendance; people who would truly be happy for us and not here simply for some free food and drinks.
Wait. What’s happening here?
I’ve never really thought that hard about getting married beyond “it’ll never happen”. But for some reason, being here with Rian is making me look at it from a different angle. Is it something I’m actively pursuing? No. But I guess if the right person came along, I wouldn’t be terribly opposed. Maybe. Maybe? Hell, I don’t know. I’m blaming my sudden interest in getting married on all the bridal shows Rian made me watch last weekend. I knew we should have stuck to cooking shows, but no. I had to shy away from the Food Network in the name of resisting temptation. I should have known better.
Putting my hand on my forehead, I make sure I’m not feverish. Surely, I’m getting sick. I’ll take some Tylenol when I get home. But first, I have a ceremony to sit through, and it’s going to take some extra focus to pretend I’m not bored out of my mind.
Right on cue, the music begins indicating the start of the ceremony.
Rian’s mother is the first one escorted in. She clomps down the aisle, not at all graceful but beaming with pride, nonetheless. I finally see the family resemblance in the smile. Rian got more of her mother’s features than I realized.
Once she’s seated, the bridesmaids begin making their way toward the front. I’m not sure how many of them there are, mostly because they all look the same. Same hair style. Same physique. Same red dress. Same small bouquet of white roses. It’s like watching a Barbie parade. Everyone is identical to the one before.
Until Rian appears. She outshines them all. And yet…
Something is wrong. Her smile looks forced, her nostrils just slightly flared, and she refuses to make eye contact with me when she walks by.
My eyes follow her, as if the back of her dress will give me some idea of what happened and how I can fix it. Well, that and it gives me a great view of those legs again.
Focus, Carlos.
When she left me standing in the lobby, everything was fine. Not fantastic, but not tense like this.
Stumped, I decide to make sure she has an extra strong margarita waiting at the reception. Whatever has happened in the last few minutes has obviously shaken her up.
Catching a glimpse of the next bridesmaid, I suddenly know what’s got Rian so upset, and rightfully so.
Walking down the aisle wearing the same red dress, carrying the same white rose bouquet, sporting the same hairstyle is the last person I expected to see here—Ridiculous Rebecca.
What is she doing here?
Chapter Twenty-Nine
RIAN
Five minutes earlier…
Hustling back to the bride room, I steel myself for whatever my sister throws at me now. I swear I can’t win with her no matter what I do. I can’t wait for this wedding to be over and for my sister to get laid. Lord help us all if Bradley is a terrible lover because she’ll never be nice again.
I can hear her ranting before I even open the door, but the words become clear as I step inside.
“Oh, there you are.” She rushes to me, relief on her face. I don’t trust it. That means she needs me to do something. “I need you to do something for me.”
Called it.
“Bendy’s not here yet.”
“What? How is she still not here?”
I’ve never met this woman, but I don’t know how my sister calls her best friend and maid of honor. She didn’t show up for the bridal shower because she was “working”. She has never been to a dress fitting with us because “something came up”. She was supposed to meet up with us at the bachelorette party, but she got “sick”. Basically, she’s done nothing for this wedding, shirking all the responsibilities to me and making me the target of most of my sister’s wrath. And now she’s going to miss the whole thing.
“It’s okay.” Laney is uncharacteristically calm amidst this latest crisis, which I admit frightens me just a bit. “She’s caught in traffic, but she’ll be here in time for the reception.”
I bite my tongue from reminding her that I was three minutes early for my hair appointment this morning and she still told me I was inconsiderate for making her wonder if I would be on time. Nor do I tell her if I ever have the pleasure of meeting this Bendy woman, who has a stupid name, I may just punch her in her bendy parts for all the crap she’s pulled.
“So anyway, listen.” Laney grabs my chin and turns me toward her, possibly also rubbing some of my makeup off in the process. Good thing it’s caked on. I have a few spare layers. “I need you to stand in as my maid of honor.”
That’s it? That’s easy. I’m the last person to walk down the aisle before the maid of honor. It just means Laney goes a little early. Which means I’m missing something.
“Okay, no problem,” I reply, hoping if I stay calm so will she. “I can hold your bouquet along with mine. No big deal.”
The irritation flashes in her eyes and I know I’ve made some sort of mistake. “Except it is a big deal. This means we have an extra groomsman. I had it perfectly balanced, but now you have to escort two groomsmen and it’s going to be all off balance because Kyle is on the larger side and Dirk is not.”
Do not roll your eyes. Do not roll your eyes. Do not roll your eyes…
�
�Don’t roll your eyes, Rian.”
Oops. Apparently, just thinking it wasn’t enough.
“This is my wedding,” she hisses. “I want everything to be perfect. But it’s falling apart. I’m missing my maid of honor. The bottom of my dress is wrinkly.” I resist giving her a pointed look about that one. “The bouquets ended up being white instead of ecru.”
Her breathing gets shaky as she rants, and for the first time in a while, I can see how much anxiety she has. Not for the first time, however, I wonder how all the other women in the room are capable of playing on their phones and chatting with each other while the bride, the woman whose important day it is, is beginning to have a panic attack. Is this what female friendships are supposed to be like? No one really cares about anyone else, but as long as their hair looks good, it’s okay? And how did my sister fall into that crazy narrative?
I don’t know and now is not the time to care. Even if she drives me crazy, even if she’s passive-aggressive and rude, even if she’s embarrassed of her fat sister standing up with her skinny friends, it’s not about me. It’s about my little sister having the wedding of her dreams.
Putting my own feelings aside, I immediately flip into protective big sister mode. Placing my hands on her shoulders, I do my best to calm her down. “Okay, okay, stop. Breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth.” We take a couple of deep breaths together, and she slowly pulls herself back together. “If it comes down to it, we can ditch a groomsman at the last second. Let’s give it a few minutes to see if… Bendy,” I stumble over her name, trying not to laugh at that part, “makes it on time. Okay?”
