THE JUNIOR BRIDESMAID (4 page)

“Whatchadoin’?”
she asked innocently.

I stood abruptly
and answered awkwardly, “Nothing. Why do you ask?” I couldn’t have presented a
more suspicious front if I had tried.

The little girl gave a shoulder
shrug and kept at it. “What’s in there?” She pointed to my bag.

“Nothing,” I
reiterated. “Why do you ask?” I scratched my lower lip with my front teeth
unsure why I was repeating myself.

The little girl
shrugged again and then bent over to look in my bag. “I like make up and my
mommy won’t let me wear any. So if you have some lip gloss she won’t know where
I got it,” she explained as she began to dig. At that point I wanted to pull
her head out of my bag by the ridiculous ponytail that her mommy had arranged
way too high on the top of her head. “Here’s some!” she straightened from my
bag. “And it’s pink. My favorite.” She opened the cap and smeared it all over
her face. At least I knew why her mother didn’t want her wearing make-up.

“Hey now. Don’t go
in my bag,” I scolded a little late in her scavenger hunt. “That’s private.”

Of course the
little monster was undeterred and as if a honing device was bleeping on my lamb
chops she dove back in head first with her hands going straight for them. “What
are these?” she asked pulling them from the zipper.

Naturally that was
the moment that the little beast’s sister decided it was time to come see what
sort of havoc she was wreaking. She had been terrorizing the world since the
wedding was announced but of course as soon as she found my falsies her sister
had to come investigate. “Kelsey? What are you doing?” Shocked by what her
little sister held in her hands she gasped so loudly that I thought an ax
murderer had entered the room swinging. “Kelsey! Put those down!” she screamed.

That was when the
entire bridal party turned to see what all the fuss was about. Little Kelsey
held the chops high in the air and announced that she just figured out who had
stolen the chicken from the rehearsal dinner the night before and she found it
in my duffel bag. All this to create a diversion so no one would notice the
little demon had lip-gloss smeared from ear to ear.

First I heard what
I was hoping was a cough. But then I realized that it was laughter. Then came
the jokes. Then came the looks. And then came Darcy Strong slowly sauntering
across the room to me. “Good Lord, Delilah. What were you thinking? Everyone
will know those are fake. You are as flat as a chalkboard,” she announced to
the room once again. I sighed heavily grabbing my chops from the little traitor
that invaded my privacy. I threw them back in my bag, tossed my bag over my
shoulder and walked out of the room. It was either that or burst into tears and
there was no way I would ever allow Darcy Strong to see me crying.

I finished getting
ready in the bathroom where there was no little pain in the ass going through
my things and no bridesmaids criticizing the way I looked. I did my own hair
twisting the long brown locks this way and that so it fell in haphazard
tendrils and placed my sparkly clip just where it should go. Then I shimmied
closer to the mirror to check my face. I put on some more lip-gloss, luckily
not as carelessly as the little monster that ravaged my bag. I brushed on a
little more blush because Julia told me that a girl needed more color for
pictures. And I doubled up on the mascara lengthening the lashes that framed my
big green eyes. I pulled back from the mirror to take a better look. I nodded
one time because even I thought I did a great job. I took another step back to
see the entire picture. Not bad, I thought to myself. More importantly my chops
were perfectly placed. Angela would be proud. Delilah Welling was showing up to
Darcy Strong’s wedding looking her finest.

I cracked the door
to the ladies room to peek outside into the hall. It was bustling. The
bridesmaids were all checking each other, for what I was not sure. The
groomsmen were wrangling stray wedding guests. The little monster also known as
the flower girl was picking her nose. I decided to make my move praying that I
would just blend into the scenery.

No such luck.

“Hey you! What did
you do with all of that chicken you stole?” It was just my luck that the
friggin’ hallway had not one carpet or sound absorbing object in it. The little
beast’s voice was bouncing off every surface like we were in the middle of the
Grand Canyon.

“Beat it, Brat,
you look like the Joker,” I bent and whisper-yelled in her face.

“You’re not nice!”
she yelled back pointing a finger at my nose.

So I did what any
mature teenager would do. I stuck my tongue out at her.

“You’ll pay for
that!” she threatened.

“Oh yeah, what are
going to do? Call your best friend Elmo to come beat me up?” I straightened
crossing my arms under my new lamb chops. I saw the little brats eyes lower to
my chest and then back to my face. That’s when her lip-gloss smeared lips
formed a smirk on her face. She turned on her heel without another word. For
some reason her non-response made me really anxious.

Pachelbel’s Canon
filled the wedding chapel. The Bridesmaids were peeling off one by one to walk
down the aisle escorted by a Groomsman. Hugh’s brother was the last Groomsman
waiting his turn to escort the Flower Girl’s sister, Hannah. But he was
otherwise distracted. He didn’t know that I was watching him because his full
attention was on Darcy. He pushed off the wall with a flex of the muscles in
his shoulder and pressed his fingers to his forehead rubbing back and forth.
Then I heard him sigh angrily. Darcy was totally consumed with her appearance
to notice his demeanor. I watched as he approached her gaining her attention
when he filled her space.

“Don’t start,
Ryan. It’s over,” she warned.

His hands went to her hips walking
her backwards to the rear wall. “Please, Darc,” he murmured. “I still want
you.”

“No. You had your
chance. You blew it.” She pushed him back and walked past him. When she reached
me, Hannah and the little monster, she turned to look back at him. She stared
at him clenching her jaw in anger and giving him the death stare. His response
was to walk straight to Hannah with his eyes locked on Darcy. He attached
Hannah’s gloved hand to the crook of his arm without ever tearing his gaze from
Darcy.

“Let’s go,” he
said to her.

Hannah looked a little confused but
went with Ryan willingly. Darcy shrugged off the confrontation and jerked her
chin at me to tell me to get going. She really was the consummate bitch.

Just as I turned
to start my descent down the aisle, Kelsey, the little mother-fucking flower
girl, threw her basket of rose petals in front of my feet. The tips of my shoes
tangled in the ribbons that adorned the basket and I went down like ton of
bricks. My gloved hands released the bouquet I’d been clutching a little too
late in the game and were therefore unsuccessful at breaking my fall. The rest
of me followed with a loud thud and a very unflattering bounce. The entire
chapel gasped simultaneously. As my body impacted the ground my lamb chops
sprung free from their low security prison and bounced down the aisle without
me. I heard a bunch of ‘Oh my heavens’ and a few ‘What the heck were those?’ I
peeked up from the floor hoping my chops were within reach but they had flown
really far. My eyes continued up the aisle to find Hugh Rowen on the move in my
direction.

Still sprawled out
on my belly, I held my arm straight out trying to halt his progression while I
yelled for him to stop.

“Nooooooooo,” I
splayed my fingers to demonstrate the universal sign for ‘stop’ but he kept
coming. He picked up one falsie and then took another step to get the other. As
he bent to help me up I heard Darcy approach from behind. The orchestra made up
of a violinist, harpist and pianist came to an audibly offensive stop and
everyone stared at us in the deafening silence.

“You did that on
purpose, didn’t you, Delilah? You have been jealous of me for as long as I can
remember and you would do anything to show me up at my own wedding,” her
ridiculous accusation was heard by the entire congregation. She couldn’t have
said it louder or clearer. Seriously. Even the crickets could be heard gasping
for air at her horrifying proclamation.

“Darcy!” I heard
Hugh warn but it was too late.

Unable to believe
that she actually thought that I would mortify myself by tossing my lamb chops
in the middle of her wedding, I turned on her abruptly. I don’t know what came
over me but something enormous must have taken possession of my soul because my
response was less than my usual angelic. Needless to say, Mama’s advice of
remaining ‘pliable’ flew straight out the window.

“How could I show
up a bride who’s pregnant with her fiancé’s brother’s baby?” As soon as the
words breached my lips my hands went over my mouth. “Oh no,” I whispered.

I’m not sure how
loud I said it. Maybe I didn’t. Maybe I just thought I said it. I turned to see
if anyone had heard hoping I had only said the words in my own mind. But I
quickly realized that I used my voice because there were too many jaws agape. I
winced accepting that I had in fact said it aloud. I turned to get my chops
from Hugh and I could see by the look in his eyes that he had definitely heard
me. He looked like he had been punched in the stomach and couldn’t breathe. His
beautiful lips were parted and he looked like he was in shock.

“I’m so sorry,
Hugh. I never meant to hurt you,” I breathed. I witnessed his shock quickly
morph into anger at the sheer betrayal of his brother and fiancé. His fists constricted
around my falsies so tight they began to bulge at both ends. My eyebrows shot
up at the sight fearing they were going to burst. Hugh turned to look back at
his brother who was staring guiltily at his shoelaces with his hands joined
together in front of his privates. The entire chapel was silent except for one
demonic voice.

“I told you she
stole the chicken, Mama!” My eyes slowly closed in response.

How could something so cute be so
evil?

I ran out of the
chapel making my hasty getaway. I felt awful about what I’d done and hurting
Hugh in the process made my stomach clench. He had always been so wonderful to
me and I just gutted him in front of everyone he had ever known. It didn’t take
long for the tears to start to flow and I swore that I would never publicly
humiliate another soul for the rest of my life. But, sadly, it was too late to
take back what I’d done to Hugh. He would probably hate me forever. And,
really, who could blame him?

Chapter 3

(12 years later)

“Hey, Delilah,” my
doorman greeted as I entered my apartment building. As the glass door began to
slowly swing closed behind me, the noise from the New York City traffic was
drifting toward a muffled whirr.

I walked toward
Davis with my hand extended. He reached out to take the hot cappuccino I had
thoughtfully purchased for him. I loved my doorman. So including a hot beverage
for him when I placed an order for myself was far from an inconvenience. “Hey,
Davis. Any packages while I was out?” I asked hoping that the dress that I had
ordered online had arrived as expected.

“Aw, I needed
that, Dee.” He lifted the coffee to express his thanks and brought the cup to
his lips for a sip. “Mmm. No, Dee. No packages,” he assured.

I pressed my lips
together illustrating my disappointment and nodded at him so he knew that I had
heard him. Truth be told I was a little pissed off. I had paid extra for
express delivery knowing if I chose regular shipping I might not receive the
dress in time.

“Thanks, Davis,” I
nodded as I headed for the elevator.

“Oh!” He pointed a
finger to the imaginary light bulb above his head as something dawned on him. “But
there is a message.”

“A message?” I
questioned as I brought the straw of my iced caramel latte to my lips.

He went behind the
desk of the reception area to rest his coffee on the counter and retrieve the
message. As he walked back around with the note in his hand he began to read it
aloud as if I would be unable to read it myself. Fairly inappropriate in a
normal doorman/resident relationship but Davis and I were more. We were
friendly. He would ask me advice about women and I would ask him to please stop
asking for my advice about women. It was all in good fun. Until of course he
started reading my note. “Hello, Junior….”

Davis quickly
stopped reading so he could step closer to begin a series of slaps on my back.
I was unable to stop the choking episode that had begun as soon as the word
Junior breached his lips. “Delilah, are you okay?” he asked with concern.

I couldn’t speak
clearly but I had to ask the question. “Did you...” Cough, cough, “say…” Cough,
cough, cough, cough. “Junior?” Cough, cough, cough, cough.

Davis looked back
at the note in order to confirm that it was in fact addressed to Junior. He
looked concerned that he might set another coughing jag in motion and all for
no good reason if he had been mistaken.

“That’s what it
says,” he stated insecurely with a complimentary shoulder shrug.

“Oh my God,
Davis.” I ripped the note from his hands and tried to focus my eyes which had
started to spiral like those cartoon characters I used to watch when I was
little. I pulled the paper closer and farther from my face trying to find a
comfortable distance where I could read it
conclusively
.

I read the note
aloud. “Hello, Junior. It’s been twelve long years. I’m in town for a meeting
but I wanted to stop by to see you. Hope all is well.” I turned the paper over
hoping that there was some sort of hidden message written on the other side.
But there was nothing. Davis looked at the note and then at me and then back to
the note and again back to me.