Authors: Bella Cruise
“You and me both.” Rae leans in to touch up her lipstick,
and I realize she’s dressed up too: wearing a long silk scarf
over a wildly-patterned silk kaftan. Bettina is wearing a long
strappy dress in a bright gold tone, with armfuls of chunky tribal
jewelery.
“You’re coming to the dinner?” I ask, surprised.
“Clyde invited us. Iisn’t that sweet?” Rae
exclaims.
“But don’t worry, we’ll stay out of your way,”
Bettina adds with a wink. “Us old folks will leave the partying
to you younger generations.”
I smirk. “If anyone’s going to be dancing on the tables,
it’s you two. Remember when I had to go bail you out for
getting arrested at that illegal rave, back in high school?”
“Oh honey, that was years ago!” Rae laughs. “Our
raving days are behind us.”
“Speak for yourself.” Bettina hitches up her bra. “Are
any of Clyde’s band mates single, do you think?”
I check my phone. Luke is supposed to come pick me up, but I haven’t
heard from him all day. ‘Still good for the dinner?’ I
type. I’m about to hit send, when the doorbell rings.
I smile, hurrying to go answer. “Perfect timing.” I grin,
opening the door. Luke looks dapper and cleanly-shaven in a natty
black suit. “Wow, you look great!”
I reach up and kiss him hello. “You too,” he says,
stepping back. “Ready?”
“Oh, sure.” I grab my purse and tell my aunts I’ll
see them there. “Don’t be late,” I warn them.
“Are you kidding?” Bettina grins. “I want to see
all the action.”
I follow Luke out to his truck. “How’s your day been?”
I ask, as I get inside. “I feel like I haven’t seen you
in ages.”
“I’ve just been busy. Stuff at the sites, you know.”
Luke starts the engine. “Me too,” I sigh, “I can’t
wait until all this is over. I’m going to nap for days. Maybe
even take a real vacation. Mexico, maybe. What do you think?”
“Sounds good.” Luke keeps his eyes on the road. He seems
stressed, but I imagine it can’t be easy juggling all the
production’s demands along with his regular projects. Yes, a
vacation is exactly what we need. I can just picture the two of us
together on a beach somewhere – clothing optional.
“It’s great that Evie let us use the restaurant,” I
chatter as we head to the party.
“Well, I’m guessing you threw enough cash at her that she
couldn’t say no.” Luke’s voice has an edge to it. I
look over.
“Are you OK?”
“Fine.”
He doesn’t sound it. But maybe that’s because he’s
not thrilled to be here tonight. Clyde and Marcie pretty much
strong-armed him into taking on best man duties, and maybe he was
just too polite to turn them down. “Have you got a bachelor
party planned too afterwards?” I ask. “I’m supposed
to go on a bar crawl with twenty of Pixie’s dearest friends. I
don’t even want to imagine the kind of bachelorette games
they’ll come up with.”
“Yeah, I think Marcie said something about that.”
We pull up to the restaurant, and I burst out laughing. They’ve
staged the entrance to the restaurant like the red carpet at a movie
premiere: guests are walking the long terrace against a backdrop
emblazoned with sponsor logos, posing for photos from a back of
paparazzi cameras.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Luke takes in the
show.
“You have to hand it to Marcie, she never does anything by
halves.” I tuck my arm through his, and head for the red
carpet.
“Over here!”
“Give us a smile, love!” I strike an awkward pose, and
the photographers take a couple of pictures, but when they realize
we’re nobodies, they all look to the next arrivals.
“Phew,” I breathe a sigh of relief as we get inside. “I
can never take a decent photo. Remember out senior year portraits?”
I nudge Luke. “I kept blinking at the wrong moment. In the end,
my picture looked like I was squinting at the sun.”
He looks around. The tables are all laid out, and guests are milling
about, catching up and chatting to the cameras about Pixie and
Clyde’s fairy tale story. I can see my aunts across the room
with Clyde’s band mates. “You want a drink?” he
asks.
“Thanks, that would be great!”
Luke heads off to the bar, and Pixie sees me from across the room.
“Ginny!” her high-pitched voice cuts through the crowd.
“Oh my god, you have to meet my parents. Ginny is my
maid-of-honor, and new BFF,” she beams, dragging me over.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I say, fascinated to see
the people I’ve only ever watched on-screen. Pixie’s mom,
Muffy, a former beauty queen turned fitness guru, is squeezed into a
tiny minidress with her blonde hair styled sky-high. And her father,
Chuck, has brought out his best comb-over for the night.
“Are you making sure our angel has everything she wants for her
big day?” Muffy coos.
“Yes ma’am.” I smile. “It’s going to be
beautiful.”
“It better be,” her father snorts into his whiskey. “I’m
the one footing the bill for this shindig.”
“Chuck!” Muffy jams her elbow into his paunchy ribs. “Our
Pixie-bell is getting married. Money can’t measure how happy we
are.”
“Sure. When’s dinner?” Chuck asks, looking around.
“It better not be any of that rabbit food baloney, I need some
real meat.”
“And you’ll get it,” I reassure him. “The
chef here is wonderful. In fact, I think I see some appetizer trays
coming out—”
The words are barely out of my lips before Chuck goes charging off to
grab one.
Muffy trails him, calling, “Not the steak bites. What did
Doctor Zimeski say about your cholesterol!”
Pixie gives me a faint smile. “I’m so sorry about them.
They were fighting in the car the whole way here.”
“Not to worry,” I comfort her. “Once the champagne
starts pouring, everyone will get along just fine.”
Pixie rolls her eyes. “If we can keep them drunk until Sunday,
maybe everything will be OK.”
I meet the rest of Pixie’s extended family, and then it’s
time to sit for dinner. I find my place is at the head table, with
Pixie and her parents, Luke, Clyde, and his cousins – who it
turns out, are a banjo folk band from England.
“Never did like all of this hard rock nonsense,” one of
them tells me, leaning in close. He’s in his fifties, maybe,
with ratty long hair and a paisley hippy shirt. “There’s
nothing like the twang of a banjo to set the mood. The most romantic
instrument in the world, I say.”
“Uh huh.” I try to stifle my giggles. Luke arrives to sit
beside me, and I grab him with relief. “Save me,” I
whisper, then, louder. “I’m just going to switch with my
date here.”
“Date, eh?” The banjo-playing lothario’s face
falls.
I maneuver Luke into the seat between us. “Thank you,” I
tell him, as they bring out the first course. “I thought he was
about to pull out an instrument and start serenading me!”
“No problem.” Luke seems restless. He looks around and
sighs. “Any idea how long this thing is going to take?”
“It depends how many times we have to replay things for the
cameras. Longer than it should, I’m guessing. Why, are you not
having fun?”
Luke shrugs. “It’s just a lot, isn’t it? All this
big spectacle, when they shouldn’t even be getting hitched at
all.”
“Shh!” I hush him, and look anxiously around in case
anyone heard. “You can’t say that!”
“It’s the truth, isn’t it?” Luke looks at me,
challenging.
I pause. The thought has crossed my mind, but the rehearsal dinner
seems like the wrong place to bring it up. What if we jinx
everything? “They seem happy enough right now, don’t you
think?” I dodge the question and nod to where Clyde and Pixie
are chatting together.
“Sure, if you count putting on a show for the cameras. But it’s
all bullshit, isn’t it? It doesn’t mean a thing.”
His expression is unreadable. I’m thrown. “Well, it’s
too late to take it back,” I say, wanting to change the
subject.
“Not if she leaves. That’s what you said, isn’t it?
She can quit any time she likes. There’s nothing easier in the
world than walking away.”
Luke’s face twists with a deeper meaning, and suddenly, I
realize what’s really going on. He heard what I said to her the
other day, but he thinks I was talking about me.
Us.
“No, Luke, that’s not what I meant—” I start
to explain, but there’s a ringing noise at the head of the
table. It’s Marcie, tapping a glass.
“Luke,” I whisper, desperate to set the record straight,
but Marcie sends me a glare. He turns his back to me, facing her.
“Welcome, everyone!” Marcie says brightly. “We’re
so excited you could all be here to celebrate our happy couple!”
Applause. “Just a couple of ground rules to keep in mind.
Remember our team are circulating with the cameras, so just relax and
act natural—”
“Yeah, baby!” One of Clyde’s band whoops.
“But not too natural,” Marcie finishes. “We have to
bleep all foul language, so let’s try and keep it to a minimum?
OK! Now, without further ado, it’s time for the maid of honor
and best man to make their toasts!”
Everyone turns to look at us. “Wait, what?” I gasp.
“Nobody said anything about a toast!”
“Psst, boss!” There’s a hiss, and then Theo ducks
in beside me. “I’ve got you covered,” he says,
passing me a folded sheet of paper.
Thank God. I exhale a massive breath of relief. “Remind me to
give you a raise,” I whisper back, grateful.
“Ginny?” Marcie beckons me. I get up and make my way to
the top of the table. I’ve watched this moment a hundred times
over, the good speeches and the bad. From sobbing endearments, to
bitchy backhanded sniping about all the many men the bride loved
before, I’ve seen it all. It should be a breeze, but when I
look up the lights and cameras are blinding. A roomful of people is
staring back at me expectantly.
I take a deep breath, and open the page. “As you all know, I’m
Pixie’s maid-of-honor, but what you might not know, is that
Pixie and I share a lot in common.”
I stop reading. We do?
There’s silence in the room, so I clear my throat, and press
on. “We’re both Pisces, we love animals, and we both love
sneaking off for a cheat day of double chocolate milkshakes with
extra fries!”
“But only on cheat day!” Pixie pipes up. Everyone laughs.
Phew, OK.
“The thing about Pixie is that she’s a woman of hidden
depths,” I keep reading. “Sure, she’s the
fun-loving life of the party, always ready to down some shots and try
a little skinny-dipping, but the Pixie I know is more than that. She
cares deeply about the people in her life, and doesn’t want to
let them down. She always has time for a friend, and puts everyone’s
happiness above her own. Her sweetness and her generosity make her
one of the most incredible people I’ve ever met, and any man
would be blessed to have her at his side. You deserve the best,
Pixie, and I wish you a lifetime of happiness--”
‘
even if you’re marrying the wrong man.’
I catch the words a split-second before I read them, and manage to
stop in time. “To Pixie,” I say, when I’ve
recovered. “And Clyde!”
There’s toasting and cheers. I search out Theo in the room,
ready to send my most furious death glare, but when I see him, he’s
staring at Pixie with such hopeless adoration on his face. My anger
fades.
He’s totally in love with her. And she’s getting married
tomorrow afternoon – to somebody else.
“Thank you for that touching speech, Ginny.” Marcie
moves in. “Did we get all the reaction shots?” She checks
with the crew. “Great, perfect, let’s move on! Luke?”
I make my way back to my seat, passing Luke as I go. “Good
luck,” I whisper.
He doesn’t reply, just slouches to the head of the table. “So,
I didn’t prepare a speech,” he begins, before the crowd
has settled down.
“Hold up!” Marcie calls. “Quiet, everyone!”
There’s silence. “OK, roll tape!” Marcie announces,
then gives Luke a nod.
“Marriage.” He says abruptly, and shakes his head.
“That’s the goal, right? One person, to have and to hold,
‘til death do us part.” He pauses, and takes another
swallow of beer from the bottle still in his hand.
I worry. What is he playing at?
“What they don’t tell you is what happens when it doesn’t
work out. Because, let’s be serious, even when you think you’ve
found the love of your life, the odds are, it’s all going to
end in tears. And then what? Are you just supposed to try again, go
ahead and make believe it’s not all going to end the same way?”
There are whispers around me. People don’t know what the hell
is going on. But I do. This is my fault: Luke is still worked up over
what he thinks I was saying to Pixie. But he’s got it all
wrong; I wasn’t talking about us!
“So, good luck to you both, I guess. You’re going to need
it.” Luke raises his bottle, and after a beat, there’s a
smattering of applause.
“Yeah!” Clyde calls, enthusiastically embracing Luke in a
big hug. “Let’s hear it for my boy. Thanks man, you’re
a true friend. The best.”
Marcie clears her throat. “Yes. Thank you for that…
touching speech. Now, are my bride and groom ready for their special
surprise?”
“We get a surprise?” Pixie asks.
“Yes you do! It’s time for the next part of your evening…
the bachelor and bachelorette parties!”
Suddenly, the bridesmaids all produce silly string and party poppers,
and shower Pixie in a cascade of glitter. She squeals. “Oh my
god! You guys!”
They all begin to hustle her to the exit, but I’m more worried
about Luke. As everyone leaves the tables, I grab his arm. “Listen,
we need to talk.”
“Not right now.” He looks closed off, and my heart aches
to see the shutters over those gorgeous blue eyes.
“But you have to listen,” I say quietly, “You’ve
got it all wrong. What you thought you heard—”
“Ginny!” Marcie yells, beckoning.