The Marriage Intervention (23 page)

“I love shopping for wedding dresses and drinking the bubbly,” Josie said.
 

Summer stepped forward to open the door, and Josie gestured for Delaney to go in ahead of her. Debra greeted them with champagne flutes on a tray.
 

“Isn’t your mother coming?” she asked Delaney.
 

Delaney nodded. “She’ll be here soon. She and Dad just got back from Scotland. Jet lag. She wanted to sleep just a little longer, but she said she wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
 

Josie felt her eyes sting at that. Her own mother hadn’t been there for any of Josie’s wedding festivities. She blinked away the tears and took a sip from her flute.

This morning, when the girls met in the small parking lot Froth shared with The Barkery, Summer had casually asked Josie, “What’s Paul doing today?”
 

Josie knew it was the perfect opportunity to mention that he was staying at Terry Schmidt’s and was probably watching porn and drinking cheap beer. But she didn’t. Delaney’s wedding dress shopping day was hardly the backdrop for that particular piece of news.

Josie downed her drink on the short walk to Froth’s library, and although Debra raised her eyebrows, she refilled it without comment before pulling a stack of oversized books off a shelf and setting them on the table at the center of the room.
 

“So we have traditional here, and contemporary here,” she said. “Where would you like to begin, Delaney?”
 

They spent the next several hours looking through dresses, discussing what Debra called “important considerations,” like how difficult it would be to go to the bathroom in a full skirt, how much wedding cake Delaney would be able to eat in a tight dress and how challenging it would be at the end of the night for Jake to get Delaney out of a gown with a thousand buttons.

At some point, Camille came in, looking cozy in a wool sweater and boots, and giving each girl a kiss on the cheek before dabbing her eyes with one of Debra’s soft handkerchiefs.
 

Josie noticed with no little satisfaction that Camille downed the alcohol as quickly as she did, if not even faster, and she wondered whether she’d ever have a daughter to send off into wedded bliss.

Although Summer involved herself fully in each question of whether a waistline was too high or too dramatic or too plunge-y, her eyes remained shuttered and Josie knew the topic of that phone call during Happy Hour was still eating away at her.

They finally narrowed the choices down to a contemporary dress with slim straps, a scooped neckline, and a semi-full skirt.
 

“It’s the best of all worlds,” Delaney said. “It’s slimming and it should also show off the few curves I have.”

“I think I have a few similar styles in stock,” Debra said. “You’re welcome to try them on.”
 

Josie, Summer and Camille grinned at each other, and Delaney blushed.
 

“That’s exactly the reaction you had freshman year when Matty Donovan sent you a note at lunchtime asking to kiss you after school,” Josie said.
 

They laughed, Camille looked scandalized. They made their way to the fitting salon. Camille went into the changing suite with Delaney, and Summer and Josie sat on the plush leather couch at the back of the salon.
 

For once, they didn’t speak, and neither of them made a big deal of it.

The girls had come to Froth to find Josie a wedding dress six and a half years ago. Her memories of that day were slightly fuzzy, thanks to Debra’s champagne. To the girls’ mutual surprise, Josie had been a relatively easy-to-please bride. Considering her taste for fashion and her tendency toward bitchiness, it was astonishing that she chose her dress in a matter of minutes.

“I want to look like a princess,” she said when she sat down at Debra’s library table.
 

Debra answered, “I have just the thing.”
 

It was just the thing, too. With a silky satin bodice and lace from here to Texas, the dress suited her as if the designer had climbed right into the eight-year-old-Josie’s imagination and created the perfect princess bridal gown.
 

Everyone in the fitting salon gasped when she emerged from the changing area. Summer burst into tears.
 

Before her mother died, Josie always wondered whether her practical nature would take the fun out of finding an expensive and completely impractical wedding gown that she planned to wear for only half of a single day. But even Carla Garcia would have cried her eyes out when she saw Josie in that dress. She would have taken back everything she’d ever said about the benefits of a courthouse wedding.
 

When Josie and Summer heard the door to the changing suite begin to open, they both sat up a little straighter.
 

Delaney’s skirt came through the door first, and Josie noticed Summer inhale, holding her breath and ready to make some sort of exclamation. When the rest of Delaney followed, though, it was met with silence. On the couch, Summer gripped Josie’s hand.

The hopeful expression on Delaney’s face died away instantly, and when she turned around and stepped onto the pedestal to look into the three-way mirror, she let out a loud, barking laugh.
 

“Well, if that isn’t the worst fit for me I’ve ever seen, I don’t know what is,” she said.
 

Relieved, Summer and Josie laughed, too, and Camille nodded. “Back to the drawing board,” she said.
 

Was it as simple as that? Back to the drawing board? Trying on wedding dresses was a bit different from repairing a marriage, but Camille’s remark struck a chord with Josie. Back to the drawing board. No, it couldn’t be that simple. Josie refused to believe it.
 

***

Delaney cried mercy after trying on three dresses, each of which had a strength and a weakness. She claimed the third one lifted her cleavage to the moon but made her stomach look like a sausage.
 

“I didn’t realize how exhausting this process would be,” she said. “Besides, it gives us an excuse to come back and drink champagne.” At a dark look from Summer, she added, “Well, Josie and mom and me, anyway.”
 

They went to the Golden Lantern for lunch and had a good laugh telling Camille about the time Josie and Summer had stalked Delaney and the awful guy she was dating, Mitchell, when they went there for dinner one evening. The whole escapade had started a big fight between them.
 

“What can I say? I really was in need of that intervention,” Delaney said.
 

They ate their cashew chicken and Mongolian beef in silence for a few moments, Summer laughing every time Josie used her free hand to pick up pieces of broccoli and sneak them into her mouth instead of using her chopsticks.
 

“Speaking of interventions,” Delaney said, and Josie felt the weight of three pairs of eyes land on her face. “How’s the running going, Josie?”
 

Josie cringed.
 

“Well, to tell you the truth, it’s not going very well.”
 

She told them about her most recent fail, tripping on the sidewalk and scraping both knees and ripping her leggings. She ended the story with a somewhat feeble, “I’m thinking about taking a break from running.” Which was silly, since she hadn’t really gotten started yet.
 

“You were pissed about the leggings, weren’t you?” Summer said.
 

Josie nodded. “Yeah, I was! They were expensive, and they made my ass look really good.”
 

“That is disappointing,” Camille said.
 

“Anyway,” Delaney said. “We wanted you to have the support you need to continue working out and to train for the chocolate and wine race.”
 

Summer nodded, quite vigorously. Josie’s sixth sense started to wake up, and within a split second, it was shouting,
ding ding ding
!
 

“So we hired you a personal trainer! Isn’t that great?”
 

“Oh, that’s so nice of you girls,” Camille said. Josie was grateful for her interjection because it distracted Summer and Delaney from seeing the steam that was probably coming out of her ears.
 

“A personal trainer?” Josie said.
 

Crickets.
 

Summer’s nodding became less vigorous.
 

“We just got you a package,” Delaney said. “Like, a package of eight sessions. Eight weekly sessions? Two months? Don’t kill us, Josie! It’s for your own good. We know you don’t like working out. You only have to go eight times. We thought it would be good for you.”
 

The tiny, satisfying flame of anger began to burn, and she smiled.
 

“Uh oh,” Summer said to Delaney. “That is not a friendly, I-love-you-guys, you-guys-are-the-best smile.”
 

Delaney shook her head.
 

“I appreciate the sentiment,” Josie said. “But I’m not going to see a personal trainer. Why don’t you just tell Dr. Strasser to give me some exercises? Don’t you think one stranger working on my life is enough?”
 

She set her napkin down, placed a twenty-dollar bill on the table and stood up. This was her moment of truth.
 

“And, I’ve been meaning to tell you guys something else, too.”
 

Summer froze, her chopsticks halfway to her mouth. Delaney froze, too, but didn’t have as much poise as Summer did. She squeezed her chopsticks too hard and a cashew popped out of their grasp, zinging across the restaurant and hitting the wall. A few people turned to find the source of the sound. Camille wiped her mouth and put her napkin back on her lap.
 

They all blinked up at Josie, waiting.

Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit. Why did I even say that?
 

She could practically hear a clock ticking.

Well, they’d always considered her the irrational one.
 

“Never mind. I’m leaving.”
 

She stalked out of the restaurant and heard Delaney stage-whisper to Summer, “I think this place has bad juju for us.”
 

It’s not bad juju. It’s just that the three of us need to butt out of each other’s lives.
 

***

Josie should have known her friends would come after her. It was just the way they worked.
 

As she drove home from the Golden Lantern, she thought about why she didn’t want to tell them Paul moved out.
 

She could imagine the surprised looks on their faces: Summer’s eyes would go wide and her eyebrows would shoot up towards her hairline before she had the chance to get her expression under control. And Delaney, who was slightly worse at hiding her feelings, would open her mouth and then close it quickly, her nostrils flaring.
 

Then—and this was the worst part—the pity would set in.
 

Summer’s forehead would crinkle and her eyebrows would arch into little seagull shapes. Delaney’s eyes would get all squinty.

They would exclaim, “I’m so sorry, Josie,” and, “What happened?” and, worst of all, “Why didn’t you tell us?”
 

Just as she imagined herself screaming in exasperation and telling them she wanted to be left alone without them intruding on her life for five minutes, she spotted Summer’s van in her rearview mirror. She picked up her phone and pressed the voice-to-text button.
 

“You should have driven Delaney’s car. It’s much less conspicuous.”
 

Summer:
Delaney’s still tipsy from the champagne. You knew we’d come after you, anyway.
 

Delaney:
Yeah.
 

Josie shook her head, then answered, “I have things to do, guys.”
 

Like going home and wallowing in my misery
.
 

Summer:
We’re sure you do.
 

Delaney:
Like wallowing in your misery.
 

Summer pulled up next to Josie in the driveway. To her surprise, neither Summer nor Delaney spoke as they followed her into the house.
 

“Paul get called out?” Summer said after Josie shut the door behind them.
 

“I don’t know, why?”
 

“Because his car’s not here,” Summer said, her tone indicating Josie was an idiot.
 

“Oh, I didn’t even notice,” Josie said.
 

“You’re lying,” Delaney said, pointing at her. “You’re looking down and to the left, and you’re pulling on the ends of your hair.”
 

“Gives you away every time, Josie,” Summer said.

“Ugh! Why can’t I learn to control that stupid habit?” Josie said.
 

An idea flitted through her mind and she seized on it. “Listen,” she said. “I need to ask you guys a favor.”
 

Summer looked suspicious. Delaney said, “Of course. Anything.”
 

“So, Delaney, remember when Summer and I spied on you?”
 

“How could I forget?”
 

“That was so funny,” Summer said. “The look on your face when we coincidentally ended up at the Golden Lantern with you and that sleazy Mitchell guy was priceless. Seriously.”
 

It actually wasn’t.

“Well, I need you to use those spy skills again,” Josie said.

Summer narrowed her eyes. “I will not spy on Paul.”
 

Josie laughed. “No, it’s not him. It’s that Blair Upton creature who’s trying to sabotage my job for next year.”
 

“Yes!” Delaney said, quickly adding, “Sorry,” when Josie and Summer looked surprised at her fist pump. “It’s just that I’ve wanted revenge on her for months.”