The Bridesmaid (7 page)

Oh, God!
Noah
thinks I’m a baby?
Abby was mortified.
This day just keeps getting worse and worse.

“So? So what if I love my sister?” Abby said. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing. It’s great!” Noah said. “But it’s also the point. This is your sister, Abby. It’s
Carol.
Can’t you just be happy for her?”

Christopher stood up next to Abby, squaring his shoulders like he was her personal security detail. “Look, man, Abby thinks the guy is fake,” Christopher said. “And besides, Carol’s freakin’ twenty-two years old. Who gets married when they’re twenty-two?”

“Come on, Ab, be honest,” Noah said, looking Abby in the eye. “Did you even take the time to get to know the guy?”

Abby looked down at her feet. What was it with Noah today? It was like he’d developed psychic powers or something.

“Ever hear of gut instinct, yo?” Christopher asked.

“I’m trying to have a conversation with Abby,” Noah said firmly.

“Well, from where I’m standing you’re not even listening to her,” Christopher replied.

“I don’t really care how it sounds from where you’re standing.”

“Dude, you want to step off or what?” Christopher made a move toward Noah.

Noah didn’t flinch and Abby suddenly realized things were about to get bad. What was wrong with boys anyway?

“You guys, chill out,” Abby said, stepping up next to them. “God, you want me to lose my job?”

Christopher stared right past her at Noah. Abby gave Noah a pleading look, hoping to appeal to his more mature, less testosteroney nature.

“Fine, I’m going,” Noah said. He looked at Abby and sighed. “Just think about what I said and try being happy for her. Hopefully this only happens once in a lifetime, right? You don’t want to wake up one day and realize you screwed up your sister’s wedding.”

And without even looking at Christopher, Noah turned and walked out, leaving Abby with a fresh ball of guilt in her chest. She hadn’t thought about it that way—that this was a once-in-a-lifetime deal. Maybe Noah was right. Maybe it was time for her to jump on the bandwagon. The problem was, her heart was much too heavy for her to feel like jumping.

“That guy’s a jerk,” Christopher said. “He’s always had it in for me for some reason, yo.” He blinked and looked at Abby, tipping his head to the side. “Hey. Maybe he likes you.”

“What?” Abby blurted out, blushing. “Please. I don’t think so.”

“No no no. I’m serious. Think about it. I bet money he’s jealous of me,” Christopher said. “I speak for all guys when I say the whole best guy friend thing throws us off when it comes to girls. Seriously. Why else would he always be such a jerk to me?”

“Um, maybe because you’re polar opposites?” Noah dated girls like Courtney Elefnate and Diana Waters—the two most beautiful girls at Watertown High. Girls with mystique and presence and two-hundred-dollar highlights. He would never like Abby—the girl whom he had called Ab
normal
for most of her formative years. The girl who, he’d said himself many times, was like the sister he’d never had.

“I’m gonna go put these in the back,” Abby said, grabbing up the rejected cleats.

“Fine, don’t believe me!” Christopher called after her. “But I’m right, yo! I have a sixth sense about this stuff!”

Abby ducked into the stockroom and leaned back against the wall to catch her breath, clutching the cleats to her chest. But that wasn’t possible.
Was it?

That evening Abby came home to the familiar sights of a wedding in progress. There were dozens of cars parked around the house and twinkling lights in the ballroom windows. Mike and Stephano, the valet guys, were sneaking cigarettes near the bushes by the kitchen. She nodded hello to them and headed in the side door. All she wanted was to get upstairs, take a long shower and call Delila. She had to talk to her friend about Christopher’s theory. On something as crucial as this, Abby needed a second opinion.

As soon as Abby opened the door, she paused. Her parents’ voices, tense and hushed, were coming from the residence kitchen. This was odd on two levels. First, her parents were never in the residence while there was a wedding going on. Second, her parents’ voices were never tense, especially not when talking to each other. Abby approached the kitchen with caution. Her parents stopped talking the moment they saw her in the doorway. They were both dressed up in their wedding-night digs, and they both looked harried.

“Hey,” Abby said, putting her bag down on a chair. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” her father said quickly. “How was work?”

“It was fine,” Abby said. “What’s the matter?”

Her mother exhaled loudly and smiled, running her hand over her forehead. “It’s silly, really. Your father and I were just discussing themes for Carol’s wedding. I want to do an English garden theme—”

“Which is overdone and completely passé,” her father said.

Abby blinked. Okay, had he just interrupted her?

“And your father wants to do a candy store theme, which I think is far too cutesy and unsophisticated for Carol,” her mother finished.

They both looked at Abby expectantly and Abby stared back until she realized they were expecting her to break the stalemate. This was too weird. “Why don’t you just throw some flowers on the table and be done with it?” she suggested. “There’s no reason to get all stressed about it. I mean, I’m sure Carol doesn’t care.”

From the looks on her parents’ faces she may as well have just told them Carol was dead.

“What?” Abby said.

“How can you say that?” her mother asked. “Abigail Lynn, this is your sister’s
wedding.
”

“Abby, your mother and I have been doing this for years, just looking forward to the days when we could use our expertise to plan your and your sister’s weddings,” her father said. “We are not going to just throw some flowers on the table and be done with it.”

“I’d think you’d want better for your only sister,” her mother put in.

Well, at least they’re agreeing now,
Abby thought.
Agreeing that I’m the party pooper.

Abby heard Carol’s quick and light steps on the stairs. She practically skipped into the room and over to the refrigerator.

“Hey, everyone!” she said, smiling as she popped open a Snapple. She whirled and looked at her family. “Whoa. Who died?”

Just then the door to the residence opened and closed and Tucker shuffled into the kitchen, looking down at a piece of lined paper. He stopped at the threshold, his brow furrowed, having yet to notice he had company.

“Good evening, Tucker,” Abby’s father said.

Tucker visibly started, folded the paper up and shoved it in his back pocket. The color rose in his cheeks and he smiled nervously. Abby felt her internal radar go off. Something was up.

“Baby!” Carol exclaimed, rushing over and planting a quick kiss on his lips. “How was the mall?”

“Uh . . . fine,” Tucker said, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“You let him brave the Plaza alone?” Abby’s mother joked. “I’m surprised he found his way back.” The Plaza mall was sprawling and crowded and notoriously void of parking.

“I know. I should’ve gone,” Carol said, wrapping her arm around Tucker’s waist. “But I wanted to get a jump on the Colorado job hunt. I spent half the day on the Internet.”

Abby swallowed hard.

“What were you shopping for?” Abby’s dad asked.

“I needed some . . . socks.” Abby glanced at his hands. No sign of any bags. “They didn’t have any,” he added quickly.

“They didn’t have any socks? At the mall?” Abby asked.

Tucker let out a laugh and backed out of the doorway. “Not the kind I wanted. Guess they only have them back home.”

“Tucker’s all OCD about certain things,” Carol explained, grinning. “Socks being one of them.” She reached out and grabbed his hand. “Are we still going to the wharf?”

“Yeah! Yes!” Tucker said quickly. “I’m gonna just go . . . change.” He turned and jogged up the stairs.

Abby looked at Carol and her parents. They hadn’t seemed to notice a thing.

“What’s with him?” Abby asked.

“I think he’s adjusting to the idea of being here,” Carol said. “It can’t be easy living with the future in-laws. Especially if they’re giving you the third degree about socks,” she added pointedly to Abby.

“What’d
I
do?” Abby asked.

“Nothing. Forget it,” Carol said. “Do you have any plans tonight?”

“Well, I—”

“Because I thought you might want to come with us,” Carol interjected. “You know, get to know him a little?”

Oh jeez. How am I gonna get out of this one?
Abby thought. But one look at her sister’s hopeful face, and she knew she wasn’t going to say no. Clearly this meant a lot to Carol. Maybe Noah was right. Maybe it was about time Abby tried jumping on the bandwagon. And she could start by being nice to her future brother-in-law. Or trying to, anyway.

The thought of Noah made Abby remember how desperately she needed to call Delila to go over everything. But apparently that was going to have to wait.

“Okay,” she heard herself say. “I’m in.”

“Wow,” Tucker said. “This is really beautiful.” He, Abby and Carol were drinking lattes from Starbucks and walking the boardwalk down by the water. Though she didn’t want to admit it, Abby had to agree with Tucker.

One side of the walk was lined with stores, everything from an old-fashioned cheese shop to a wooden toy maker to a Häagen-Dazs and a Gap. On the other side, small-craft docks jutted out into the water. There were lanterns strung from poles to light the way for nighttime boaters. The water lapped up against the pylons, making a soothing, sloshing sound. Abby took a deep breath of the evening air. She loved coming down here at night.

“It must have been so cool growing up here,” Tucker added.

He reached out and entwined the fingers of his free hand with Carol’s. They exchanged a private look. Abby turned her head.

“Yeah, we loved it,” Abby said. “Carol especially. She used to visit every day to throw bread into the water and watch the fish come up for it. And then, of course, yell at all the fishermen.”

Carol laughed as a breeze blew her hair back from her face. “Oh, God. I was so obnoxious.”

“You
yelled
at the fishermen?” Tucker asked, grinning.

“I figured someone had to tell them what they were doing was murder,” Carol replied with a shrug. “Might as well be me.”

“What would your twelve-year-old self think if she knew you were marrying a
rancher
?” Abby joked.

The smiles slowly fell from their faces. Abby looked away again and sipped at her cardboard cup of coffee. He
was
a rancher, right? And Carol
was
a vegetarian and animal rights activist. She was just stating the obvious. And if stating the obvious made Carol wake up and realize she was making a mistake, then she was doing her sister a favor, right?

“Oh, hey,” Carol said suddenly. “I’m gonna run into the bookshop and see if Raina’s around. I haven’t seen her since I’ve been home.”

“Okay. We’ll be out here,” Tucker said.

Abby resisted the urge to chase after her sister shouting, “I know what you’re up to!” It couldn’t have been more obvious that she was leaving her and Tucker alone on purpose. She and Raina Burton, whose family owned Burton Books, were only casual friends in high school. Carol normally wouldn’t have gone out of her way to see the girl. Abby had been set up.

“So,” Tucker said.

“So,” Abby replied.

“Can we walk out to the end of one of the docks?”

“Sure.”

Together they clomped along the nearest dock, an uncomfortable silence hovering between them. When they got to the end, Tucker sat down and dangled his legs over the edge. Feeling awkward standing alone, Abby sat too.

“Listen, Abby, I know this whole thing’s gotta be tough on you,” Tucker began.

Oh, I so don’t want to have this conversation,
Abby thought.

“I mean, it’s gotta be weird. Carol and I just met and maybe I’m not exactly the person you envisioned for her,” he added. At that moment Abby realized she never had envisioned the guy Carol would end up with. Up until recently she’d never really thought past next week.

“We know what our obstacles are and we’re working them out,” Tucker continued. He looked Abby in the eye for the first time and hazarded a smile. “I guess I just hoped that you wouldn’t be one of them.”

Abby’s stomach felt hot. There was nothing worse than being put on the spot.

“Carol loves you. You’re pretty much the most important person in her life,” Tucker continued. “I know it would mean a lot to her if we got along and it would mean a lot to me, too.”

Abby looked down at the water, her eyes threatening tears. She had no idea what to say. If there was one thing Abby was bad at it was one-on-one, loaded conversations. She usually avoided them at all costs. But he did sound sincere.

Abby thought of Carol. She thought of how
she
might feel if Carol treated Noah like dirt. Then she just wanted to throw herself off the dock and drown. The last thing she wanted was to cause Carol pain. She loved her sister, and she knew Tucker was right— that Carol loved her, too.

“So? Whaddaya say?” Tucker asked.

“Well, if it really means that much to you. . . ,” she said jokingly.

“Thanks.” Tucker’s face brightened. “I’m really not a bad guy. I swear.”

“I guess you couldn’t be,” Abby said. “I mean, if Carol likes you. She has very discerning taste.”

“That she does,” Tucker said. “She thinks I’m OCD about socks? Would you believe it took her two hours to buy a pair of jeans the other day?”

“It usually takes me three,” Abby confessed.

They both laughed and Abby looked down again, the unpleasant warmth fading and leaving a sort of reluctant tingle in its place. Maybe she could do this. Maybe Tucker wasn’t so bad after all.

“It’ll be nice to have an ally,” Tucker said, lifting his coffee to his lips. “You’re aware that your parents are one hen short of a henhouse, right?”