Not Quite A Bride (5 page)
Authors: Kirsten Sawyer
“Actually, I can't. Claire's waiting for meâI told her I was going for a run.”
A rush of anger overwhelms me ... God, I hate Claire. My best friend has to sneak out to visit me?
“Okay, I don't want you to get busted.”
Brad smiles a pathetic half-smile.
“When do I get to meet this mystery man?”
“Actually, I was hoping to bring him to your engagement party. What do you think?”
“Definitely. Well, let me just check it with Claire, but I'm sure it won't be a problem.”
Let him just “check it with Claire”?!? What is she, his mother?
“Great, let me know.”
“I'll call you tomorrow to get the specifics. I've gotta go now.”
Brad pecks my forehead and runs off down the hall before I can respond.
As I watch my wonderful, smart, handsome friend run down the hall like a trained poodle, the overwhelming anger and hatred of Claire is replaced by deep sadness. I shut the door and return to my spot next to Tiffany, sad that it feels like the deterioration of my friendship with Brad is beginning. If he isn't allowed to visit me just weeks after their engagement, by the time they are married I'll never get to see him at all. I'm so glad my engagement to Justin won't be anything like that. It might be fake, but at least it will allow me freedom.
Needless to say, Brad does not call me the next day, or the day after that, or the day after that. I talk on the phone to him
once
between the night at my apartment and the night of his engagement party when he calls to tell me that Claire said it would be okay for me to bring Justin, but he couldn't even chat then because she had him so busy with all the party details.
once
between the night at my apartment and the night of his engagement party when he calls to tell me that Claire said it would be okay for me to bring Justin, but he couldn't even chat then because she had him so busy with all the party details.
8
Introducing Justin
T
heir engagement party is actually a huge deal for me and I'm bubbling over with nervous anticipation. Unlike Brad and me, Justin and I have seen each other very often and talked on the phone at least once a day. We have our story straighter than an arrow.
heir engagement party is actually a huge deal for me and I'm bubbling over with nervous anticipation. Unlike Brad and me, Justin and I have seen each other very often and talked on the phone at least once a day. We have our story straighter than an arrow.
Like we agreed in the beginning, we stick to as much truth as possible, and only shift things slightly to make our relationship a romance, not a business deal. Each time we had a “meeting,” we chose a different romantic restaurant so that if questioned about where we have gone on dates, we had good answers, experiences, and food comments on hand. The truth is, I'm having the best time!
Justin is a fantastic person. He is smart and funny and has led a really interesting life ... and having a gay man as a boyfriend is really ideal in every way except that you never get sex. He isn't at all distraught by the hours of shopping and was instrumental in helping me pick out the perfect dress for the party, plus he totally understands why I need to look better than Claire. It's like we are back in junior high school, creating our very own secret club ... we have deep, touching conversations and are so silly that I laugh until I cry talking about everything from Justin's “coming out” to the awfulness of Claire Reilly to the wedding (of course). And again, his flawless taste is going to be extremely helpful in planning the wedding. This fake relationship is better than any real one I've ever had!
The night of Brad and Claire's engagement party, Justin and I are dressed to the nines and ready to make our grand entrance. Most of the important people in my life will be there (except big-mouth Logan): Jamie and Bryan, my parents, Alex and Steve, Lauren and Rob, and, of course, Brad. Justin looks amazing in his black suit, and the black strapless dress he insisted was the one to steal Claire's spotlight really does look like it will be able to do the trick. Don't get me wrongâwe are both nervous (Justin calls it stage fright) but we're also excited.
The party is at a restaurant supposedly owned by a friend of Claire's family. Justin and I arrive just fashionably late and the party is beginning to get going. I take secret joy in how angry Claire must be that half an hour after the time on the invitation the room is only half full. Justin and I clasp our hands and enter the room, where we are almost washed over by the wave of my family and friends ready to pounce on him. Jamie reaches him first ... either she's fast for a pregnant lady or the others felt uncomfortable shoving a woman with child out of the way.
Justin looks at me and smiles his dazzling smile; under his breath he says, “Here we go.” Before I realize what hit me, I'm standing behind a mob of people crowded around poor Justin ... I can just see the top of his head. I figure I'm not needed and make my way to the bar in hopes of being able to say hello to Brad.
From the bar I have a good view of the party. About 95% of the guests are Claire's family friends. The few guests Brad was allowed to invite are our good friends from college, and my family. Brad really is an honorary Harrigan. Since his family is across the country and he's not that close to them (they didn't even come “all the way to New York for one weekend” for the party). Beginning back in college, he would always come home with me for holidays and long weekends, and to this day, he still shows up for these events. My mother thinks he is adorable, my father loves talking sports with him, and both Logan and Jamie treat him like a brother. I think in some ways, it means more to him to have them here than his own parents. Besides the hive of people I know who are buzzing around my poor hired beau, almost everyone else at the party is a stranger to me.
Claire looks stunning, but there is something icy about her bleached-teeth smile. Maybe I am starting to imagine her evilness being more obvious than it is, but I swear, it shows through. Far across the room, I finally see Brad, trapped in conversation with two older men in three-piece suits. He has his polite smile on and I watch him fake-laugh four times before I can catch his eye. I raise my glass of champagne to him, and he excuses himself from the group and makes his way over to me. Maybe I am imagining this the way I am imagining Claire's visible horns, but there seems to be a sadness to Brad tonight that I've never seen before. When he reaches me he smiles his normal, twinkling smile and hugs me.
“So, where's Mr. Wonderful?”
“See that group of women huddled over there?” I point in the direction of the mosh pit assembled around Justin. “He's somewhere in there.”
Brad laughs ... he knows my family well enough not to be surprised by their behavior, only amused.
“Well,” he says, “I'm the guest of honor here tonight and I want to meet him ... so let's break up the ladies.”
He extends his arm to me and I take it (keeping my glass of champagne in the other), and we make our way over to rescue Justin.
Brad is good with my family and good with rowdy crowds (the spectators at the extreme-sporting conventions he usually covers for
Extreme Outdoor
magazine have prepared him for anything), so he thinks nothing of arming his way to the middle of the circle and extending a hand toward Justin.
Extreme Outdoor
magazine have prepared him for anything), so he thinks nothing of arming his way to the middle of the circle and extending a hand toward Justin.
“Great to finally meet you.”
Justin is amazing; he doesn't miss a beat. “Brad Lawson. Molly swears I shouldn't be jealous, but she sure speaks highly of you.”
Brad beams at Justin and then at me for a moment. It's not hard to win him over ... he's truly such a softie.
“Let's go get you a drink. I want to hear all about you ... and in return, I'll tell you all about Molly's college days.”
“Sounds like a plan. Ladies, I will be back.”
The girls moan like teenagers at a rock concert, but hardly give the boys a chance to cross the room before they turn their attention on me. Oh jeez! I liked it better when Justin was in the firing line!
My mother jumps in first. “Molly, he's wonderful!”
Jamie seconds her emotion. “He really is, Molls. I'm thrilled for you!” And she actually squeals.
And then, before I can believe it, all my friends are saying how great he is. They actually all love him! I am beyond thrilled. Step one of the plan is going off without a hitch!!
I relay the story of how we met and all the wonderful dates we've had so far. It's so much fun ... and I even catch Claire throwing an extremely annoyed look at our somewhat noisy corner of the room, which only adds to my joy. After sharing every single detail (and even making up some new onesâI decided our song should be, “Just the Way You Look Tonight”), I excuse myself from the crowd to go find Justin and congratulate him on an exquisite performance.
I spot him at the bar, still with Brad, and make my way over. I walk up and slide my arm around Justin's waist. It feels slightly strange to do this, because in a lot of ways he's still a stranger, but I know it's little details like this that will prevent any doubt from forming in anyone's head. I notice Brad look at my arm around Justin's waist for a second before greeting me.
“Hey there, we were just getting to know each other a bit. Don't tell me you were having separation anxiety?”
I laugh at his joke, albeit a strange joke. “Nope ... just wanted to be certain you weren't divulging too many secrets.”
“Don't worry,” Justin assures me, “Brad has only had the nicest things to say about you.”
I beam at Justin for a moment, thrilled at how well this is going, and he beams back ... we're actually having fun. It's like performance-theater for him, and it's like a dream come true (again, minus the sex) for me.
“Justin, could you get my champagne refilled while I find out what Brad really thinks of you?” I say with a wink.
We all have a good chuckle and Justin turns toward the bar while Brad and I head onto the dance floor. Brad and I dance in silence for a few minutes; Brad is a fantastic dancer ... his mother forced him to attend cotillion as a kid and it really paid off. Finally I can't stand it anymore.
“So? He's awesome, right?”
“Shhh ... I love this song.”
I'm a little dumbfounded, but okay. I listen to the music andâwouldn't you know it?âit's “Just the Way You Look Tonight.” Crap. I look over at Justin and he's talking to my mother and sister again. Shoot ... please let nobody notice that this is the song I proclaimed to be “ours.” When the song finally ends and some other danceable tune begins to play, Brad finally starts talking.
“I think he seems fake, Molly.”
My heart skips a beat, “You do? Everyone else loves him.”
“I dunno. Something doesn't feel right about him. There is something I can't put my finger on.”
The sincerity and concern in his voice causes a moment of extreme guilt on my part that I am telling this lie, but it is quickly replaced with a feeling of panic because Brad really likes everybody. I mean, obviously he's not super picky about personalities if he's marrying Claire.
“Maybe you're just being overprotective because you've seen me get hurt before,” I say, trying to convince him.
“It could be. Just be careful. Really keep your eyes open and watch your back.”
“I will, I promise,” I say as I settle back in the comfortable rhythm of Brad's lead.
We dance the rest of the song and my mind is racing about what Justin could have said to tip Brad off. I'm thinking so hard I don't notice Claire come up and physically pull Brad's arm off my waist. When I look up and see her, she looks pissed and Brad looks like a deer caught in headlights.
“We were just dancing,” he explains lamely ... which, if you ask me, is clear to anyone with eyes.
“Do you have any idea how it looks for you to be dancing with
her
at our engagement party?” She motions at me.
her
at our engagement party?” She motions at me.
“Like he has friends?” I pipe in, trying to be helpful.
Claire gives me one of her death glares and I shrug and walk away as she scolds Brad. I have bigger things to worry about at this point. As I'm walking off the dance floor, I hear Claire reprimanding Brad. He's such a weenie when it comes to her ... he doesn't even try to defend himself. It's no surprise that he can't put his finger on something wrong with Justin ... he can't seem to see Claire's faults at all!
I walk up to where Justin is chatting with my mother and sister.
“Hey, sweetie,” he says as he hands me my champagne and kisses my head. Damn ... the guy is good. My mom and Jamie look at each other like they are about to melt.
“That Claire is a pistol, huh?” he asks, looking out onto the dance floor where Brad and Claire are now dancing. She's leading and still telling him off.
“She's the devil,” I whisper in his ear. Since her family is hosting the party, I can't be too open about my feelings.
He nods in understanding and Jamie nods, too.
“It's sad that all of us have found such wonderful people and he is with her.”
We all nod sadly and I feel a rush of warmth. I snuggle a little closer to Justin; I'm someone who has found a wonderful personâat last!
“Come on, Molly, let's dance.” Justin takes my hand and leads me out to the dance floor. I look back at my mother and sister, and I swear my mother wipes a tear from her eye!
“You are an amazing actor!” I whisper in his ear.
Justin laughs a little and smiles warmly at me. “It's not really actingâI do think you're great ... I'm just embellishing.”
We dance quietly for a few minutes and let me tell you, Justin makes Brad seem like he has two left feet. Forget attending cotillionâJustin must have been professionally trained.
“You're an amazing dancer, too.”
“Just another perk of having a gay boyfriend.”
We both chuckle, just a little.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you. âJust the Way You Look Tonight' is our song, 'kay?”
“When did we decide that? Your mom asked me why I was letting Brad steal you away for our song and I was so confused ... I thought I remembered all the details we decided on.”
“We didn't,” I admit. “I just got a little carried away and told everyone.”
“That's okay,” he laughs, “I did that, too. I told your sister I'm into yoga, which I am, but then I added that I've been giving you lessons and now she wants to join us. So, I'll have to show you some yoga moves this week.”
“Okay,” I agree. “I've always wanted to try yoga anyway.”
For the rest of the evening, Justin waits on me hand and foot. That is, when he's not dancing with my mother (since my father refuses) or my sister (since she complains too much about Bryan's dancing so he won't go near her on a dance floor). I dance with Bryan (he's no Justin ... he's not even a Brad, but we have fun), hang out at the bar in the restaurant's front area with my dad where he has managed to, as always, find a television playing sports, and get to wave at Brad from across the room twice. The dinner is good, and the wine is a bit too free-flowing.
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