Wrong: A Spoiled Stepbrother Romance (10 page)

*****

Madelyn

“Maddie, come help me with this zipper,” Mom called out from her position in front of the mirror. I was enjoying some sparkling cider as my mother was preparing to walk down the aisle. I had foolishly believed that since she had neglected to put me in her wedding party, I wouldn't have to do any work. That turned out to be a naive assumption; her actual wedding party was anything but helpful. While I can't say I knew she'd do it for me, she was still my mother and this was her wedding day.

She twisted and turned to attend to other areas of her dress while I slowly worked the zipper at her side.

“Who are you texting so much on that phone?” she asked after catching me again buried deep inside of my phone.

“No one. I'm not texting anyone,” I lied to her before realizing I was being too defensive, it wasn't like she actually cared. “I'm sorry. I'll put the phone down and focus on you. I'm sorry.”

“Don't lie, I saw you. Now who was it? Gossip with me.”

Well, earlier Rorke had sent me a rather inappropriate text (him in his tight, tight boxers getting ready for the wedding) so I wouldn't be telling her about that. That left me with only one truthful option.

“Ugh, nobody really. My ex Derek keeps sending messages.”

All of the times in my life that I had asked my mother for advice, she reliably always failed to deliver. In this circumstance where I hadn't asked, she's more than happy to provide. Her heavily made-up face turned to mine and she gave me a knowing smirk.

“It's ok to forgive, Maddie” she told me. “He made a mistake, it happens. And think of how many of your problems would be solved if you could just look past one simple accident that he clearly regrets.”

“Problems?” I asked, unsure of what she was getting at.

Mother turned to me with a more serious expression, “Maddie, you guys need to understand, Carmine's serious about the both of you leaving that carriage house at the end of the month. He sold the property and there won't be room in our new place. You need to find somewhere to live, fast. Talk to your old boyfriend, put up with him until you get back on your feet. You need to convince him to let you live with him, am I wrong that he’s your only option right now?”

What's the proper response to that? The directness was appreciated but she punched a little too hard. I was in a daze that she properly misdiagnosed.

“What? Are you angry with me because I didn't ask you to be in the wedding? Carmine and I agreed to keep the wedding party small and you've been so busy with college...”

It wasn't worth pointing out to Mom that her shifting the conversation back to herself didn't solve my problem. It was a double snub, it was hard not to notice that I was doing the work while the actual, chosen wedding party was nowhere to be found. I had let myself be walked on again. Not wanting to make a scene and needing to change the subject, I just quickly assured her that it was “fine” and ruminated on her suggestion of me getting back together with Derek. I had been questioning my instincts and decision making a lot lately; maybe she was right, maybe that was what I had to do. Maybe she had actually given me useful advice for the first time ever.

Mother simply smiled and returned to pulling up the front of her dress, the front which her boobs kept pushing down. “Speaking of which, I should probably go find my maid of honor. Knowing her, she's probably off trying to get a drink somewhere. Help me get this other zipper and then we're done.”

Wanting to do the 'right' thing, I dutifully attended to my mother's needs. After pulling the zipper up as high as I could, Mother sent me off to go find me seat as she located her boozy bridal party.

Not thinking too much of it, I chose a seat on the right side, amongst people I didn't know. It was impossible for me to decipher which was the bride's side and which the groom's, I didn't recognize anybody. Scanning the crowd, I finally saw a face I knew. Standing up from his seat way over on the other side, Rorke searched the seated guests frantically, looking for someone in particular. When our eyes locked, I think we both realized that we had been looking for each other. The seat next to him was open and he motioned for me to come over. In a panic, I pretended to be with the elderly couple next to me, the elderly couple who gave very confused looks when they saw me pointing to them. Rorke didn't even give me a chance to see any disappointment in his face, shrinking down dejectedly below the crowd quickly.

The ceremony wasn't nearly as extravagant and lavish as they could afford. Outdoors was a cute choice that I had recently learned was pretty much a necessity. Since my mother had previously been party to divorce (my long lost father managed to grant her that before falling off the face of the Earth), a proper church ceremony wouldn't be allowed. There was great discussion as to whether Carmine could just help change that decision with a little financial influence but he wanted to do it right, to play by the rules as a good Catholic. Almost daily it became clear where Rorke had inherited his stubbornness from.

Something about a wedding ceremony makes people go out of their way to be overly polite. After the ceremony had ended and it was time for the crowd to disperse, each and every person stood and insisted on allowing someone else to go before them. While the politeness was a welcome change of pace from the normal rudeness one comes to expect, it was also a little infuriating to be stuck in the row without anywhere to go. Though I easily could've squirmed and maneuvered my way around, I didn't want to be "that girl" and but my tongue as I waited. Everyone waited patiently as the elderly blocked the ends of the rows with their slow moving but I was fidgeting, not enjoying being trapped there, exposed and vulnerable to whoever wanted to my attention. It was only a matter of time before the quick moving Rorke slithered through the chairs and shuffling old timers to come bother me. He didn't see a problem with pushing your way to where you wanted to go.

"Dry those tears sis, let's go get a drink," he said loud enough to get through to all of the hearing aids around. This boy didn't pay attention to anything.

“How could you not know that this is a dry wedding?”

“Even with all of your Mom's lush friends?”

“Go make nice with them, I guarantee at least one of them has a flask somewhere hidden in their dress.”

He visibly considered what I told him and appeared to like the idea. “Well, I'd rather go searching under your dress,” he continued with lecherous eyes. I wasn't going to take the bait.

“Aren't you not allowed to drink? Because of your fight?”

He bounced back real quick, “Cheat day. My father's only gonna get married one, maybe two more times, I should get to enjoy myself tonight. All restrictions are off.”

His rationalization for breaking the rules seemed to cause us both to remember his most famous restriction, the one he's been parading around for a month.

“All restrictions? Even the one week one?” I asked and am ashamed to admit that it came out like, super flirty.

He picked up on that quickly, his bedroom eyes trying to hypnotize me.

“All restrictions,” he said with a slimy grin that made me feel a whole bunch of conflicting emotions.

When we both finally arrived at the table-tag location, the two of us searched for our names, certainly believing we'd be sitting together.

“Ten,” he told me while peering at the one in my hand. At the same time we both said what table I had been assigned to: "Two”. As we left to go find our respective tables, we soon learned that our seats were at the opposite ends of the room, separated by the expansive dance floor.

Over at my end, I found myself joining a table of the uber-rich and famous. Couples that were far older than me and definitely more wealthy than I'd ever know. There had to be over a billion dollars spoken for at just my table alone. I'm sure they'd be proud of the five hundred dollars that I could contribute to our status.

“Are you Carol's daughter?” I was asked several times by each of the people seated there. Once I confirmed that I was, each time that just ended the conversation with a polite nod before they'd turn away. It didn't seem as though my mother was in high regard with Carmine's associates. While I tried to maintain a conversation for the sake of keeping myself entertained, they didn't seem to want much to do with me. Their conversations continued and I was able to pick up snippets about summer homes, winter homes and what they gave my parents for a gift. All fascinating but I did wish I had someone to talk to.

The first courses were soon dropped in front of us, at least something to occupy me for the time being. It was quite a bit of a surprise to look down and see a bowl of lentils with what I think was part of a fish head. Of course it was a mistake, looking at the rest of the table, I saw beautiful lush, green salads delivered to each person.

“Um?!” I said loudly, not wanting to cause a scene but putting feelers out to see if anybody else had been served the same gross concoction. Each person at the table took a turn peering into my bowl and instead of showing sympathy, I was surprised when each one of them let out a laugh. Seeing that I was distressed, one of the women kindly suggested that I speak with the waitstaff. Confrontation wasn't my thing but I could feel the whole table looking at me, wanting to see what I was going to do next.

“Miss? Miss?” I asked several of the catering staff as they buzzed around. Finally one of the girls made eye contact with me and she had no choice but to come over. “I think I got this as a mistake, a joke maybe?”

The girl pulled out a paper and assured me that I had specifically requested the dish because of “dietary needs”. It took me only one second to Perry Mason my way to the bottom of the case. From across the room, I saw an amused Rorke, standing and pointing at me while his face reddened from laughter and his mouth openly chewed the delicious salad.

“I'm sorry,” the catering girl continued, “I'm not sure I can change it now. I don't think...”

I was just about to give up and figure that I was going to go hungry when one of the men, a salt-and-pepper suave type, motioned the waitress over to him. He very clearly gave her a folded up green bill and she nodded before turning to me.

“I'll be right back with a fresh salad, Miss” she told me while whisking away the lentil and fish catastrophe.

“Sometimes, you just gotta ask right,” the man told me with a wink before returning to his own food.

Though he surely meant it as a kind gesture, I couldn't help but feel at least a little embarrassed. I rudely occupied myself with my phone, keeping my head down as I prayed the moment would end.

“You and that phone,” my mother's shrill voice darted into my ears before I even had the chance to see her coming.

“Sorry, it's just...”

“It's fine, Maddie dear. She's getting back together with her ex-boyfriend, you know," Mother explained to everyone at the table I was seated at. They couldn't have cared less but she continued anyway. "Isn't love great?"

While I wished I could've corrected her, I was in fact trading messages with stupid Derek. For some reason he was full of questions about the wedding, mostly repeatedly asking me to confirm that I went solo. I get it, he was lonely and using me for attention but it did feel nice to finally have him obsessed with what I was doing, who I was seeing.

My mother apparently wasn't done talking about this. "Maybe we'll be at their wedding next!"

What I hadn't managed to notice in time was that Rorke was standing just off to the edge of my mother and Carmine and heard all my mom had to say about me and Derek. He looked a little stung.

“Let's all get these pictures over with so you kids can go back to your free meals,” Carmine loudly proclaimed while opening his arms wide for all of us freeloaders to come rest under. My mother was off to Carmine's left and Rorke and I next to each other on the right. We were in plenty close but soon crammed together when Carmine's strong arm squeezed Rorke in tight, pressing me firmly against father and son.

“Little tighter?” the photographer asked and Carmine obliged. It was as if he was trying to make his son and I merge together and become one, that's how hard he was pressing. I could feel my stepbrother's firm, hard muscles against my body, not an inch of distance between us. My stepfather must have done the same on the other end as I soon heard mom give a playful squeal.

“Ready...smile!” was all I heard before a blinding white flash exploded in front of us.

“One more?” Carmine's voice bellowed.

“Smile,” before another big flash. Once my sight finally returned, I saw that my parents had already moved on to the next table and the only one who had stayed by my side was Rorke. We slowly and awkwardly removed our bodies from being so pressed together, each letting out a tiny, amused chuckle.

“Guess, I'll go back to my table,” Rorke said while gesturing his thumb towards the other end of the room. “Enjoy your dinner. You're gonna love what I picked out for you.” With that he headed back, confident in believing he had managed to get under my skin yet again.

After preparing for the worst, the meal Rorke selected actually wasn't all that bad. Stuffed tomato that had a ton of other vegetables and some quinoa. Of course I wouldn't have picked it if I had a choice but there was no way I was going to cause a scene again, needing assistance from some rich dude I didn't even know. I happily ate the tomato dish and made a point to give Rorke a thumbs up from across the room, letting him know his prank had failed.