Authors: Tara West
I join Violet as we help Grace and the salesladies put the dresses back on the rack. I hope the damage isn't irreparable. I cringe when I see a few of the white gowns marred by sticky candy. I follow a trail of pink splatter and discover an empty container of cotton candy beneath a mountain of white hoops. I quickly tuck the container underneath my jacket, thinking it best if I hide the incriminating evidence. Although I doubt it will matter. We were all witness to my brothers' trail of destruction. Who in the heck would give little kids cotton candy in a bridal shop?
It doesn't take long for us to get the store back to normal. I quickly slip outside and search out a trash can. When I can't find one, I throw the container in my car and go back to the store. My eyes bulge at Karri's familiar spiky pink hair as I see her get out of Violet's truck and wave me over.
Why did Violet bring my ex best friend here?
I pretend I don't see her, although that bright hair of hers shines like a beacon. I'm pretty sure satellites can pick it up from space.
I slip back into the store, grateful nobody threw any punches in my absence. Nora is piling Marie and Grace with dresses when she turns to me.
"Where are your other bridesmaids?" Nora asks impatiently, as if expecting my entourage of mythical best friends to arrive at any moment.
I shrug. "I don't have any other bridesmaids."
"This is it?" Nora sneers at Marie and Grace as if they've got a case of the plague. "Don't you have any other friends?"
"I wanted to keep the bridal party small." Speaking of small, I wish I was the size of my brothers, so I could disappear beneath a mountain of dresses for a while. I hate the way Nora and Tia are gaping at me, like I'm some friendless reject.
Tia clucks her tongue as she and Nora share a knowing look. "But Andrés will have all of his cousins standing up with him. You can't have an uneven number."
"How many groomsmen will he have?" Nora asks Tia, since obviously Andrés's aunt knows more about my wedding than I do.
"Four." Tia frowns at me. "But we were hoping for more."
"Can't you come up with two other bridesmaids?" Marie interjects in the same tone I use on my brothers whenever they get caught doing something naughty.
I look over my shoulder for Grace to come save me, but she and Violet are in the corner of the store, heads bowed toward each other. Grace's tone rises every so often, and I realize they must be arguing.
My shoulders fall. "No."
"Violet can do it." I gape at Grace, as she drags Violet toward us.
"Violet in a dress?" I blurt and then slap my hand over my mouth when Violet's cheeks flush a deep scarlet. I mouth "sorry" to Violet, but I don't think it helps. She casts her gaze to her scuffed boots as Grace tightens her hold on her arm.
Just then the front door chimes and I'm nearly blinded by Karri's hair.
"Hi, Christina." She smiles and waves, clearly oblivious to me rolling my eyes at her as she skips through the shop toward us, her heavy boots making a muffled thudding sound on the plush carpet. I'm surprised to see she's dressed much like Violet, in cowboy boots, worn jeans and a work shirt.
"Congratulations on your wedding," Karri says in a much too perky, and much too sober, tone. Before I can stop her, she pulls me in for a hug.
"Thanks," I say, baffled by this sudden change in my ex-BFF. I pull back and search her gaze for any signs that she's stoned out of her mind but her eyes are clear and vibrant.
Huh?
"Ahhh. We've found a fourth bridesmaid."
My heart stops beating for an eternal second when I see Nora's gaze fixed on Karri.
Karri takes a step back. "M-Me?" she stammers. "You want me to be a bridesmaid?" Despite Karri's incredulous tone, there's a wistfulness in her gaze. I don't like it one bit.
"I don't think so," I say as I square my shoulders and glare at Nora, then Karri.
"I remember you." Nora crosses over to Karri and settles her hand on her arm as if they're old friends. Then she flashes me a wide grin. "You two were practically joined at the hip when Christina was in high school."
Karri tilts up her chin. "We were besties."
"Things change," I groan as I cross my arms.
Nora's demeanor suddenly shifts, and I'm reminded of the way weather in Texas can go from sunny and calm to cloudy and stormy within the blink of an eye. "Beggars can't be choosers, Christina." Her mouth hardens as she points a finger at my chest. "You need a fourth bridesmaid."
***
"Are you coming out or what?" Grace is pounding on the fitting room door where Violet has barricaded herself.
I've got a wedding-induced migraine, so I'm nursing a ginger ale while I sink back in a cushy, oversized chair, wondering how the hell the day of my dreams is turning into my worst nightmare. Tia has just revealed to Marie the shocking news that she thinks Grace and Violet may be lesbians. Marie is sulking in a nearby chair. After she begrudgingly tried on the red dress we chose, Marie refuses to try on anything else, claiming the dresses Grace and I like are for
"putas."
I'm not sure what a "puta" is, and I get the feeling I don't want to know.
Grace has already changed back into her jeans and turtleneck, but she looked incredible in the shimmery red silk dress. It had a V neck, tapered waist, and just the right amount of swish when she twirled. Not to mention the fact that her long, lean legs looked absolutely stunning in it. The best part is I think this bridesmaid's dress will complement the red flowers on my gown. I can see why Marie doesn't like it. Like me, she's short, but she's got a much thicker build. When Grace twirled and the iridescent colors caught the light, she reminded me of a rose in full bloom. Marie looked more like a turnip that's been sprayed with a water hose.
Finally, the door to the dressing room creeks open, and Violet, or what was once Violet, hesitantly steps out. I jerk up and slosh ginger ale down my shirt, letting out a low whistle at the bombshell before me.
"I look stupid." Violet glares at Grace who looks as stunned as I feel.
The salesladies gave Violet a wig of straight goth-black hair with cropped bangs, hooped earrings, and someone even painted her face with mascara and cherry lipstick to match the dress. The red heels compliment Violet's mile-high legs.
She looks runway model perfect. If it wasn't for that pained, constipated look in her eyes, I'd say Violet makes a damn fine girl.
Grace's gaze travels the length of her girlfriend, and her bright eyes darken as she licks her lips. I know Grace is thinking about dressing room sex right about now.
"Babe." Grace stroke's Violet's slender arm. "You look good enough to eat."
I hear Tia whispering even louder to her niece. "I told you they're lesbians."
Violet's shoulders fall, and she hunches awkwardly while kicking the carpet with a spiked heel. "It's not me."
"But you're beautiful." Grace turns to the plump, thirty-something saleswoman, who's beaming from ear to ear as she hovers behind them. "Do you sell these wigs here?"
"We sure do," the woman says.
Violet tugs at the wig until it's sitting at an awkward angle on her head. "Can I take it off now?"
Grace gasps and swats Violet's hands while adjusting the wig. "Don't you want to look sexy for me?"
"Lesbians," Tia hisses again.
Oh, dear God!
I can only imagine Tia's panicking how to explain all of this to the family priest. First a "soiled" bride and then lesbian bridesmaids in "puta" dresses.
Violet jerks the wig off her head and storms back into the dressing room. Grace tries to stop her and nearly gets her hand caught in the door.
"I'm not wearing this damn wig," she hollers from behind the door.
"Stubborn jerk!" Grace punches the door and then storms toward me and flounces into a nearby chair. Groaning, she hangs her head in her hands.
I don't want to turn around, but I'm sure Tia and Marie are sharing disapproving glances.
Karri comes out of the adjacent dressing room. Sadly, the dress isn't doing much for her. The bright red only makes her pale complexion look more sallow and the circles around her sunken eye sockets more pronounced. And her cotton candy hair clashes with that bright apple dress in the worst way. She looks like a mutant circus snack.
I cringe when I hear Marie's raucous laughter behind me. I still can't believe I allowed Tia to bulldoze my wedding plans. That I allowed Marie to have any part at all in my wedding. The bitch should be lucky she's even invited, and now here she is making fun of my bridesmaid dresses, actually pretending she wants to be in my wedding? Now that Karri has been pulled into this, I feel like I'm about past my breaking point.
But what pisses me off the most is that I've allowed this wedding circus to continue. I didn't put my foot down from the start and demand to have
my
wedding
my
way. What the hell is wrong with me? Seven months ago, when I walked out on my domineering ex-fiancé and controlling mother, I vowed I'd never allow anyone to push me around again. Now here I am right back where I started, the wimpy pushover Christina. I don't know if it's the pregnancy hormones turning me back into the old Christina, but I don't like her one bit.
Karri flashes me a hesitant smile. "Isn't it pretty?" She says as she bunches the fabric in her hands and spins around. "I feel like we're back in high school, and we're prom dress shopping."
Those days are long gone,
I want to tell her, but I don't. Something about Karri's half smile looks so pathetic, I actually feel more pity than anger toward the girl who screwed my ex-fiancé and then ran out on her family.
Kari spins another slow circle and her face falls as she stops to stare at herself in the mirror. I'm thinking maybe she doesn't like the reflection of a washed up druggie staring back at her, but she reaches across her body and settles it on one pale shoulder. The shoulder with Tyler's name scrawled inside a heart tattoo.
I remember the day she got it. It was our first night clubbing after she'd had Tyler. We hadn't stayed out late, mostly because I insisted she needed to get a good night's sleep, so she would be alert for her baby the next day, but she'd insisted on stopping off in that tattoo shop. I remember how angry I was she'd spent a hundred bucks on a tattoo when she was always complaining about the cost of diapers. But anger turned to empathy when she emerged from the artist's chair with a tattoo dedicated to her baby boy.
Nora, whom I'm pretty sure had been napping just moments earlier, sets down her empty champagne glass and rises from the sofa on wobbly legs. She walks up to Karri and slowly circles her, looking sideways at her like she's an errant dog who's been caught humping the pillow cushions. "You'll have to tone down your hair."
Karris' eyes bulge as her hands fly to her scalp. "My hair?"
Nora's collagen enhanced lips twist into a puffy scowl. "It's too pink. It will detract from the bride." She waves at me with an impatient flick of the wrist. "This is
her
day, not yours."
Really, Nora? Because it seems more like everyone else's day.
Karri's bottom lip turns into a pout. "But it matches the dress."
I fight to keep from laughing out loud. Karri's never had great fashion sense, and I've always suspected she was color blind, too.
Karri looks at me with eyes as big as a little lost lamb's. "What do you think I should do, Christina?"
Her question catches me off guard, maybe because it's the first time anyone other than Grace actually cares what I want.
"What do I think?" I ask as I clench my hands and slowly rise. "Does anyone care what I think?" I do a visual sweep of the room, disheartened by the blank stares. Grace pops her head up and rises to stand beside me. Just as I thought. Other than Grace, nobody else cares.
"Of course we care, darling," Nora slurs as she sweeps her arm with drunken flourish toward everyone.
Tia swears something in Spanish and Marie snickers. Karri drops her gaze to the floor and then sulks away. A distinct ripping sound comes from Violet's dressing room.
I cock my hand on my hip and glare at Tia and Marie. "What I think is I need a drink. A big, strong one."
Tia gasps and shakes her head.
This time I don't repress the urge to hold back my feelings. I roll my eyes so hard, I imagine the whites are scraping the ceiling. "But I can't drink because I'm pregnant, so I'll have to settle for some chocolate." I grab my purse off the chair and turn to Grace. "Are you ready to go to lunch? I'm hungry."
"Yes, please." Grace doesn't bother saying good-bye to Violet as she grabs my hand and we head out the door.
"Where are you going?" Tia calls behind us, but neither of us look back as we jump into Grace's car and peel out of the lot.
***
Grace and I are sitting across from each other in a cozy booth at a posh little café. Country Christmas music filters in from speakers all around the café. I actually don't mind it so much. George Straight's Christmas Cookies song is one of my favorites. It brings back a fond memory of Karri's mom baking sugar cookies with us when we were kids.
I like how they've decorated the place with pinecone wreaths and mistletoe hanging from the ceiling. We've already gotten our drinks, and I'm anxiously awaiting my order. Grace has promised me "The World's Best Brownie." I so wanted a double latte with an extra heaping of whipped cream and shaved chocolate, but I've opted for an organic green tea with stevia instead. Andrés would be proud of me... well, except for the brownie part.
Marie has already texted me three times asking if I'm coming back to the bridal shop. I have no idea how Marie got my number. I'm assuming Tia gave it to her. I don't need the added stress right now, so I choose to power down my phone rather than answer her.
"I don't want Karri and Marie as my bridesmaids, and no offense, but Violet really doesn't look happy in a dress." I take a sip of my tea, and try to swallow it without tasting. I've never gotten used to the odd flavor, and I suspect the tea gets its green coloring from runny diaper doo. I swear this stuff leaves a pungent aftertaste that's almost as bad as kissing Jackson.