Glamour (9 page)

Mom and Jon are dancing again, and Paige is cheek to cheek with Dylan. Even my grandma and her boyfriend are cutting the rug. Yes, I feel a little left out, but since this is my mom’s big day, I am determined not to give in to self-pity. That’s when I remember Mollie. It’s not like she has a date today either. I look around the room until I spot her sitting along the sidelines with an older woman that I don’t recognize.

“How’s it going?” I ask her.

She points to her plate. “The food’s good.” Then she introduces me to Jon’s Aunt Betty from Utah. But after a few minutes of small talk, Aunt Betty excuses herself to go to “the little girls’ room.”

“Guess it’s just you and me,” I say to Mollie. I laugh and start singing, “Just Mollie and me, and baby makes three, so happy are we—”

“Yeah, yeah,” she interrupts. “Real funny, Erin.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

“You look really pretty.” She points to my dress. “That color looks good on you.”

“Thanks.”

“And the wedding was really beautiful.” She sighs and rubs her tummy. “If I ever get married, I want to do it in a rose garden too.”

“I know. The light was so gorgeous, I was actually wishing for my camera during the ceremony.”

“So what’s up with Blake?” Mollie looks around the room. “Is he still here?”

“I think he left.” I let out an exasperated sigh.

“What happened?”

I tell her the short story and she just shakes her head. “I guess that proves you don’t love him after all.”

“What do you mean?” I demand. “How would that short conversation prove anything?”

“I mean, why do you think Blake asked if you wanted him to leave?”

I shrug.

“That was his way of asking you to beg him to stay.”

“I don’t think so, Mollie.”

“You are so dense.”

“Thanks.”

Mollie pushes herself to her feet.

“Are you going to dance?” I ask.

She laughs sarcastically. “Yeah, I’m going to waltz all the way to the restroom.”

“Maybe you can tango with Aunt Betty in there,” I tease. After she’s gone, I start to feel conspicuous sitting here by myself. Something about being a bridesmaid alone on the sidelines feels a little embarrassing. I look around for someone else to talk to and spot Fran on the other side of the room. Like me, she is alone.

I go over and sit down by her. “How’s it going?”

She sighs. “I was actually thinking about making a getaway, but I came with Helen and Frank and they’re out there doing the boogie-woogie.”

I laugh. “The boogie-woogie?”

She makes a weary smile.

“So why don’t you grab a taxi and go home?” I suggest. “I can make up some excuse to Helen for you.”

She looks relieved. “Would you mind?”

“Not at all.”

“I actually have a date.”

I blink. “A date tonight?”

“It’s tomorrow. But it’s a morning date so I need to get up early.”

“A breakfast date?” I frown at her. “Who with?”

“Chemo.” She reaches for her purse.

“Oh … does anyone go with you?” I ask.

“You mean to hold my hand?” She’s standing now, unsteadily. For a moment she teeters and I worry she might fall over.

“Yeah.” I nod as I stand and link arms with her.

“No …”

I give her a cheesy smile, in case anyone is watching us, then walk her out of the ballroom and to the elevators.

“I wish I could go with you,” I say as I walk her through the lobby. “I really think you should have someone there.”

“It’s okay. I’m fine. I’m used to being on my own.”

“Don’t you have any family around?”

“No. They’re all back East.”

“Any good friends?”

She turns and looks at me with sad eyes. “When you marry your job, you tend to lose your friends.”

We’re outside now, and I ask the doorman to call her a taxi. “Well, I’m your friend,” I tell her as the taxi whips up. “And if it wasn’t my mom’s wedding, I’d go with you right now to make sure you got home safely.”

“Thanks, Erin. I appreciate it. But, really, I’m fine.”

I watch as the taxi leaves. And, as bad as I feel about Blake, it’s hard to feel sorry for myself in comparison to Fran.

I return to the reception wearing my happy face. I mix with the crowd, visit with old friends and family, meet some of Jon’s relatives, dance with Mollie, and finally make an excuse for Fran to Helen. “She forgot she had a date at five,” I tell Helen.

“A date?” Helen looks interested. “With whom?”

“Someone with a Hawaiian name,” I say. “Like Kimo or Nimo, I think.”

Helen chuckles. “Who knew?”

Finally the reception crowd starts to thin and it’s just close family and friends, visiting and finishing off the champagne. Then it’s time for the happy couple to leave for the airport.

We all go down and, instead of throwing the bouquet, which seems silly since there are only a few of us left, Mom hands it to Paige. Then she kisses us, and she and Jon get into the limo and take off.

“Wow.” Paige shakes her head. “It’s over.”

Dylan puts his arm around her waist, pulling her close and pointing to the bouquet in her hands. “That one’s over, but this one is just beginning.”

She giggles then turns to me. “Hey, where’s Blake? Dylan and I wanted to take you guys to dinner. I already made reservations.”

“Blake had to go check on something,” I say offhandedly. “Why don’t just the two of you go out tonight?”

Paige smiles at Dylan. “I guess we could do that.”

He grins back and I can tell there will be no argument.

“Do you have a way home?” she asks me.

I nod. As they go their way, I ask the doorman to call me a taxi. The older man smiles as he waves a car over. “Such a pretty young woman riding alone on a Saturday night.” He makes a
tsk-tsk
sound. “It’s like that old line.”

“What line?” I venture.

“Youth. It’s wasted on the young.”

I laugh and thank him. As I get into the taxi I consider his words. I also wonder if perhaps I am fated to be alone. Perhaps there’s some personality flaw that I’m unaware of that is unraveling my relationships. Not that I’ve had so many relationships, but it seems that whenever a guy gets even slightly serious about me, I push him away. I’ve heard about people, usually guys, who are afraid of commitment. I wonder if I might have that problem myself.

But as I pay the driver for my ride, I think that I’m being
ridiculous. Good grief, I’m barely nineteen and here I am worried about being single for the rest of my life. Seriously, that is so messed.

As I go into the condo, very aware that Mom is gone—really gone—and that Paige is out with her fiancée, I feel very alone. I’m tempted to call Blake and apologize. But for what? I’m not even sure.

Instead I take off my dress and put on comfy sweats and tell myself to just enjoy this—I have the condo to myself. I can turn up the music loud, or watch any movie I like. I could even take off my clothes and dance naked. Okay, I wouldn’t want to do that. But all I can think about is how lonely I feel.

I look at the clock and see that it’s just a little past seven. I imagine everyone else is out having a great time. Yes, I know that’s not true, but it’s how it feels. I remind myself that Mollie went home from the reception with swollen feet and a plan to take a bath and go to bed early. And then there’s Fran …

I grab my phone and call her number. As it rings, I get ready to leave a message, but then she answers. “Fran?” I say eagerly. “How are you?”

“I … uh … I’m okay.”

“Really? No ill effects from your chemo?”

“Just the usual stuff.”

“Do you want any company?”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. The truth is, I’m feeling lonely. Paige and Dylan went out. Mom and Jon are on their way to Paris.”

“You know I’m not good company …”

“I know.”

“You’re welcome to come over.”

“Are you hungry for anything? Like frozen yogurt? Or whatever?”

“You know what sounds good, Erin? Pad Thai.”

“Pad Thai? Like the noodles?”

“Yes. For some reason, that sounds good.”

“Pad Thai is on the way.” I call in an order to a nearby Thai restaurant, gather up some overnight things, write Paige a note, and head out.

It’s not that I’m helping Fran just to make myself feel better, although I’ll admit that in some twisted way her health challenges make my problematic personal life seem trifling. I’m helping Fran because I know she needs it. And because it’s the right thing to do.

When I come home from fran’s place the
following afternoon, I know I’ve made a big mistake. Not in helping Fran, because she was so sick I have no idea what she would’ve done without me. No, my mistake has to do with Paige.
And Dylan.
Somehow, it seems they’ve gotten the idea that it’s okay for Dylan to stay in the condo this week.

“It’s no big deal,” Paige assures me when I notice the signs that Dylan did indeed spend the night last night.

“It’s a big deal to me,” I tell her. “This is my home too. You can’t go moving your boyfriend in — ”

“He’s my fiancée, Erin. We are going to be married.”

“But you are not married now.” I glance toward the bathroom where Dylan is showering. “And Mom would not approve.”

“Mom doesn’t live here anymore. Remember?”

“Paige, this is just unfair.”

“Erin.” She’s using her big-sister voice now. “I know you’re very conservative about these things and I respect that. But we are not the same and — ”

“That’s for sure!”

“And I would appreciate it if you would respect that we’re different.”

I press my lips together. “This is just wrong, Paige.”

She nods. “Yes, it would be wrong for you. But it’s right for me.”

I want to scream now. I want to pull out my hair and scream. Why does she not get this? This is my home. She is bringing in a guy without even caring how I feel about it. This is so wrong! Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

“By the way, Erin …” She looks at me curiously. “Where did
you
spend the night last night?”

“Huh?”

She holds up the note I left her yesterday, informing her that I was
visiting a friend.
“Who did
you
spend the night with?” She gives me a very suspicious look.

Now I feel trapped. How can I possibly explain that I spent the night at Fran’s without giving Fran’s secret away?

“And I know you weren’t at Mollie’s, because she called this morning, wanting to know if you were picking her up for church or not.”

“Oh … church.” I nod, remembering now that it’s Sunday, and while I was cleaning up vomit from Fran’s hallway carpet, church was in session.

“So my guess is you were with Blake.” She makes a catty smile. “I have no idea what you and Blakey-Boy were up to all night, but I have to say I’m surprised. I thought you didn’t approve of that sort of thing.”

“For your information, Blake and I broke up.”

She blinks. “Seriously?”

And now, whether it’s fatigue or stress or real sadness, I begin to cry.

“I’m sorry, Erin.” She hugs me. “I didn’t realize you guys broke up.”

“I didn’t want Mom to know,” I sob out. “I didn’t want to worry her just as she was going on her honeymoon.”

“Was it a mutual breakup?” she asks as she goes to the kitchen and gestures for me to come along.

“I’m not even sure,” I confess, following her. “I mean, it happened so quickly.”

“Was it at the wedding reception?” She fills a glass of water. “I saw you two dancing and then I didn’t see Blake again.” She hands the water to me with a sympathetic expression.

I can only nod as I take a sip.

“Do you still care about him?”

“I—uh—I don’t really know. I’m trying to figure it all out.”

“Hey there,” Dylan calls as he comes into the kitchen wearing only a bath towel. Then he sees me and looks embarrassed.

“I gotta go,” I tell them, running to my room. I close the door, but I can hear their voices. I’m sure Paige is telling him that I’m upset and brokenhearted and who knows what else. And, while all that’s true, most of my angst revolves around two things: one, I hate that Paige thinks it’s okay for Dylan to stay here, and two, I’m worried that I almost blew Fran’s cover just now.

I hurriedly pack some bags. There is no way I’m going to be comfortable staying in the condo with Paige and Dylan as they play house. I am so outta here.

“Where are you going now?” Paige asks as I emerge from my room with my bags.

“To Mollie’s,” I tell her.

She simply shrugs and I suspect she’s relieved to be rid of me. And to show her how I feel about the situation, I slam
the door on my way out. Real mature, I know. But I can’t help myself. Then I drive to Mollie’s and am received almost as warmly there as at home.

“You could’ve called me,” Mollie tells me as we go down to her basement bedroom, which I helped her paint and redecorate several weeks ago. I’m surprised that it still looks cheerful and sweet. Not a bad place to live, really. “I was all ready to go to church and then you never came.”

“I’m sorry.”

“My mom even offered to drive me, but by then I knew I’d be late and have to sit alone, and I just figured, why bother?”

“I’m really sorry, Mollie.” And for the second time today, I start to cry.

Mollie’s eyes get wide.
“Erin?”

“Sorry—I’m just having a—really hard day.”

“What’s wrong?”

I tell her about Paige and Dylan playing honeymooners at the condo and how I just don’t feel comfortable staying there.

“You can stay here with me.”

“Thanks.”

“That’s why you’re so upset?”

I sit down on her sofa and wonder … how much can I tell her?

“It’s something more, isn’t it?” She sits in the rocker and waits.

I sigh then nod.

“What?” she asks eagerly. “Tell me.”

“It’s supposed to be a secret.”

“You can trust me, Erin. I’m your best friend, right?”

I nod again. “But I promised not to tell.”

“Who did you promise? Blake?
Paige?”

I lock eyes with her. “Do you promise, if I tell you, you won’t tell anyone?” I think about this. Who would she tell? Although she does enjoy the whole social network scene.