Three Girls And A Wedding (10 page)

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Authors: Rachel Schurig

BOOK: Three Girls And A Wedding
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“I should keep circulating,” I
said, running a hand through my hair. “Lots of things to check on.”

“I’ll bet.”

I turned to go, but Matt caught my
arm. “Hey, I’ll be sure to tip my independent, local bartender like a
Rockefeller.”

A hint of amusement danced around
his eyes, and his mouth very nearly formed a smile—or, at least, the
closest I had ever seen it come to a smile.

I smiled back in spite of myself.
“Be sure that you do.”

 

***

 

By the time everyone sat down to
eat, I knew that the party was an unqualified success. Everywhere I went I
heard people exclaiming about the décor, the jazz band, the cocktails, the hors
d'oeuvres. Every time I walked by Kiki and Eric they were surrounded by
friends, looking happy and excited. The Barkers too seemed very satisfied, and
I saw them pointing me out to friends on more than one occasion.

I barely saw Jason. He checked in
with me a few times, but mostly he seemed to be out of the room or circulating
with Mr. Barker and his impressive guest list. I was fine with that
arrangement. I really did not want to deal with what I thought I detected from
him the previous night.

At exactly eight thirty, the band
leader directed everyone to please make their way to the dining area. Just as I
had orchestrated, a dozen waiters in black ties swept forward to pull the
trellises away, revealing the dining room beyond.

The dining area had a more classic,
formal feel. We had decided to seat everyone together at a few long tables,
rather than at many round tables scattered around the room. I thought it would
add an air of intimacy as well as formality. Along the center of the tables
were more bouquets of flowers, as well as lines of twinkle lights and black and
white photographs of the couple.

I circulated the room as everyone
found their seats, anxious that everything go off without a hitch. The waiters
appeared and began pouring wine and taking orders. I edged my way toward Mr.
Barker, signaling to him that it was time for his toast.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he called
out, in a loud and clear voice. “Your attention please. I’m so thrilled you
could all join us tonight to celebrate the engagement of our daughter and her
wonderful fiancé.”

It was a perfect speech. David was
funny, sentimental, gracious. Watching him it was clear to me how he had
managed to so thoroughly climb to the top of the corporate ladder—even
more, I was struck by his clear devotion to his wife and daughter.
 
It was obvious to anyone that he worshiped
them both. By the time he asked everyone to raise their glasses to Kiki and
Eric, he had the entire ballroom in the palm of his hand.

“Not bad, huh?” Jason asked, coming
to stand next to me against the wall.

“He’s pretty spectacular,” I
agreed.

“He’s my idol,” Jason said
seriously. “He’s the consummate businessman, the ultimate success story.”

“Hmm,” I responded, not knowing
what else to say. I knew Jason had a point, but I found myself more impressed
by Mr. Barker’s obvious devotion to his family. I didn’t tell Jason that,
though; I knew he would think I was sentimental and silly.

“We’re like him, Jen,” Jason
continued. “We have that focus, that drive. I can tell when I look at you. I
wasn’t sure at first, but working on this wedding, I know it’s true. We’re the
same, you and me.”

I didn’t like the sound of that one
bit. I didn’t want to be like Jason. Uncomfortable, I looked up and saw Matt’s
gaze on us. His expression was inscrutable, but it made me feel anxious. I
didn’t want him to see me standing next to Jason, didn’t want him associating
me with him.

“Um, I need to check in with the
wait staff,” I muttered, suddenly desperate to get away. “Talk to you later.”

I walked briskly away from Jason,
feeling confused. I should have been pleased with his comment. After all, that
was the image I had fought for since the day I had joined the firm, the image
my mother had tried to instill in me for years now. It shouldn’t fill me with
such dread that Jason had assigned those qualities to me.

And why did I care so much what
Matt thought of me? Sure he was gorgeous, but he clearly had no interest in the
world I was trying to fit in with. In fact, my mother would have been
absolutely horrified if she found out that I was concerning myself with the
opinion of a construction worker.

Get
a hold of yourself, Campbell
, I told myself firmly.
You’ve come too far to get off track now.

Setting my shoulders, I hurried off
to do my job.

 
 

Chapter Thirteen

 

“Do you have the root beer?” Ginny
asked me, rifling through a shopping bag on the kitchen counter.

“Yup,” I assured her. “And the rest
of the pop. And beer for the grown-ups.”

“And Josh has the cooler and the
hot dogs,” she murmured, standing up.

“And Annie’s picking up the cake,”
I said. “We’re good to go, hon. All we need is the birthday boy!”

It was Saturday afternoon and
Danny’s party was set to begin at the park down the street from our house in
twenty minutes. It was going to be a pretty simple, laid-back affair, but Ginny
was starting to get anxious. Probably because her parents would be there. They
had that effect on her. Come to think of it,
my
mother would be there too.
 
I guess I could see where her nervousness was coming from.

“I was hoping he’d wake up on his
own,” Ginny said, looking at the clock with a worried expression. “He gets so
whiney when I wake him.”

“He’ll be fine,” I assured her. “He
loves the park. He’ll have a blast.”

At that precise moment, a muffled
whimper came from the baby monitor on the counter. “See?” I told her. “It’s all
working out.”

Fifteen minutes later we had Danny
loaded up in his stroller and his wagon packed with the pop and paper products.
It was a perfect day for a party in the park and Ginny and Josh had reserved
the pavilion there.

“Ready?” I asked her.

“As I’ll ever be,” she sighed.

“You okay?” I asked her as we
started down the road.

“I’m nervous,” she admitted. “Josh
invited his parents…”

I gasped. “Why didn’t you say
anything?”

Ginny shrugged. “I knew you guys
would get all worked up about it and I’m not even sure they’ll be there.”

“Oh, they’ll be there,” I muttered
darkly. “If there’s a chance they’ll see their precious son, they’ll be there.”

Josh was barely on speaking terms
with his parents. Their involvement in keeping him from Ginny and Danny was
something he just couldn’t forgive. I was pretty sure they’d only met Danny two
or three times in his life.

“Why would Josh invite them, today
of all days?” I asked, feeling angry. Like Josh, I could not forgive them for
what they had done to Ginny. Just thinking about it made my blood pressure
rise.

“It was my idea, actually,” she
said.

“Ginny! Why on earth would you
suggest that?” I was shocked. Ginny had expressed to me, on numerous occasions,
her recurring dream of bashing Mrs. Stanley in the head with a blunt object. I
shared her desire.

“Look, we’ll probably never all be
one big, happy family,” she told me. “But they’re Danny’s grandparents. I want
him to have the option of knowing them. Besides, Josh and I are going to be
married. I have to put him first, at least sometimes. I don’t want him to never
see his parents. No matter what happened, they
are
his parents. They raised him, loved him, for years before he
even met me.”

I sighed. “That’s way too mature of
you, Gin,” I told her ruefully.

She laughed. “Being a grown-up
sucks,” she said. “You always have to think about other people besides
yourself.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any
better,” I said as we approached the park, “I’ll be fantasizing about ripping
that woman’s hair out.”

She put her arm around my shoulder.
“You know what, Jen? That
does
make
me feel better.”

 

***

 

Danny’s party was an unqualified
success. Just as I had predicted, he perked right up when he saw the park.
Ginny’s parents were polite enough, her mother keeping her criticism to the
bare minimum she seemed to require in order to survive. Josh’s parents did
come, and seemed beyond grateful for the invitation. They were over-the-top
nice to Danny, buying him not one but two lavish presents. A ride-along Jeep
for a one-year-old. Honestly. I couldn’t help but notice that both Josh and
Ginny cringed every time one of the
Stanleys
talked
to Danny.

Ginny, for her part, seemed
determined to prove to them how little effect they had on her happiness. She
barely spoke to them at all, instead socializing with all of her friends,
playing with the baby, laughing and kissing Josh like she didn’t have a care in
the world.

“That’s my girl,” Annie said to me
quietly as we watched Ginny in the midst of a large group of people, telling
some story about Danny that had them all laughing.

“Danny likes our present,” I pointed
out, gesturing toward where he was playing with Josh in the grass.

Danny’s grandparents could try to
win with his love with expensive presents, but they didn’t know him like his
aunties did. Danny was totally obsessed with the laundry basket in our house—he
was constantly trying to get into it, to push it around the living room. He
seemed to like nothing better than to put all of his toys in it, then climb in
himself. Weird, I know, but it made him happy. As a result, Annie and I had
bought him a basket of his very own. We had glued a cushion to the bottom to
make for a more comfortable seat, and painted the outside garish colors. He was
enthralled with it.

“Of course he does,” Annie said,
smiling. “It’s from his favorite people in the world.”

My cell phone rang in my purse, and
I swore. I’d told Kiki I had this party today and she’d assured me she wouldn’t
be bothering me. Grumbling, I pulled out the phone and was pleased, and very
surprised, to see my dad’s name flashing there.

“Hi, Dad!” I said.

“Hey, pumpkin,” came his gruff
voice down the line. I felt a pang in my chest. I missed my dad. “How’s it
going?”

“Good,” I told him. “Just at
Danny’s birthday party.”

“Danny’s birthday?” he said,
sounding surprised. “I can’t believe he’s old enough for a birthday.”

“Tell me about it,” I said. “It
seems like last week we were bringing him home from the hospital.”

“How’re the girls?” he asked, and I
smiled. This was the difference between conversations with him and
conversations with my mom. He always asked about Annie and Ginny before
bringing up my job. As I thought this, I caught sight of my mother across the
pavilion, watching me. I wondered if she could sense who I was talking to. I
waved at her and turned away, walking over to a bench where it was more quiet.

I talked to my dad for about ten
minutes. We eventually got around to work. I told him about the Barkers’
wedding and he told me he was very proud of me. I felt a rush of warmth at his
words.

“You’re not letting this distract
you from Ginny’s wedding, are you?” he asked. “I know the job’s important and
all, but don’t let it overwhelm you.”

“It’s fine,” I said, smiling. “But
enough about me, Dad. How are you?”

“Oh, same old,” he said. “Bit of a
rough week this week, but I got through it.”

I felt a flash of panic. “Is
everything okay now?” I asked him, my throat feeling dry all of a sudden.

“Of course, sweetie,” he said. “One
day at a time, right?”

“Have you been talking to Bill?”
Bill was my dad’s AA sponsor and best friend in the world. I owed my dad’s life
to Bill.

“Of course,” he laughed. “He’s been
around almost every day. I know what I’m doing, sweetie. It’s been six years.”

“I know, Dad,” I said, closing my
eyes. Six years of sober living. It seemed like only months sometimes. “I have
so much faith in you. I just wish you would call me when things get hard.”

“No need to bring you down with all
that,” he said, sounding impatient. “Not your job. That’s what my sponsor is
for.”

“It’s what your family is for too,
Dad.”

He chuckled again. “Okay, you got
me. I promise to call more when I’m having a rough time. Your voice should
cheer me up, if nothing else.”

“Thanks, Dad,” I said, feeling
slightly better.

“You should get back to your
party,” he said. “Tell the girls I say hi.”

“I will. And I’m
gonna
call you next week, okay?”

“Whenever you can, whenever you
can,” he said easily. “Love you, pumpkin.”

“I love you too, Dad. Bye.”

I hung up the phone, feeling that
sick knot in my stomach that I so often got when I talked to my dad. I knew I
shouldn’t worry; I knew he was doing okay. But I couldn’t bear the thought of
him being sick again. I had come so close to losing him so many times before.

“Jen,” Ginny called out to me from
the pavilion, pulling me from my dark thoughts. “We’re
gonna
sing happy birthday!”

I stood up, trying to get a hold on
my fear. Plastering a big smile on my face, I approached my friends.

 
 

Chapter Fourteen

 

‘Planning a wedding
can be seriously stressful stuff. Taking a mini-vacation during your planning
might seem counter-productive, but it could actually help you to better focus
and enjoy the process. If you can manage to get away for a weekend, I strongly
encourage you to do so! Remember, ladies, this is supposed to be FUN!’—
The Bride’s Guide to a Fabulous Wedding

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