“How does my butt look?”
My best friend since forever—and if I were to be honest, lifeline to sanity—looked me up and down, the ‘eleven’ lines between her eyebrows more pronounced than usual thanks to her worry.
But it was all good. That’s how a BFF does it. No beating around the bush. If my ass were the size of the Titanic, I’d expect her to tell me. I’d do the same.
Fortunately, my backside was not of Titanic proportions. But it was hefty, still. And today, the day I was wearing white, which I never did because it makes you look big, my butt was going to be stared at by two hundred people as they watched me walk down the aisle of a church.
To get married.
“It looks good, Esme,” Charli confirmed, shaking her head. “Very bootylicious. Girls kill for an ass like yours. In fact, did you hear that women in Brazil or someplace are crazy for butt implants? I can’t imagine doing that—your ass would be sore and you couldn’t sit or go to the bathroom for days—”
“Charli,” I interrupted, continuing to smooth my hands over my ass as if that would somehow shrink it. “I’ve been thinking about some things.”
Her eyes widened. Guess she didn’t expect a serious conversation fifteen minutes before my wedding ceremony.
“Yeah? Whatcha been thinking about, Es?” she asked, all attention, leaning against the wall of the church’s dingy storage closet, which they called the ‘bride’s room’ when they needed one.
I looked longingly at a folding chair, but we’d agreed not to sit in our dresses, at least not until we got to the reception. I’d been standing for a solid hour and was getting tired. But at least I had my shoes off.
“You know, Char… well, Eddie’s really not… that into sex.” I said the last words really fast and avoided her expression by studying the manicure her mother had treated me to.
She was silent. Which forced me to look up at her widened eyes.
“Oh? Really?” she croaked.
I knew that voice. It was the one she used before she broke into a panic.
“Do you… well, do you think that’s a problem?” My voice was loaded with forced breeziness.
I wasn’t fooling Charli, and I wasn’t fooling myself.
She pressed her lips together, deliberating her words. It was not something she usually did, but considering what was about to take place, I could see she wanted to at least try to be diplomatic.
“Well, you know…” She giggled nervously. “I… um… has he been that way… all along?”
She smiled hopefully.
“Pretty much. Yeah. I told myself it wasn’t a big deal. He was so nice and successful, and well, we bought the house and all, so maybe the sex thing doesn’t really matter.”
But for some reason it mattered right now, eight minutes before I was to walk down the aisle and commit myself in front of all our friends and relatives.
Damn, damn, damn.
Charli lowered her voice. “Are you getting cold feet, Esme?”
I dropped my head back and laughed hard, just to show I had my shit under control. “No, no, no,” I said cheerily.
And then my bottom lip began to quiver, and the lump I’d been swallowing away for the last few days returned to my throat. My eyes filled with tears, which was disastrous, considering I’d just had my makeup done professionally for the first time in my life.
Charli rushed to me, grabbing my hands. “Oh sweetie. If you’re not sure, don’t do it.”
“But all the people…” I said, trying to hold back a sob.
“Fuck them,” she said. “This is about you. And if you don’t want to do it, you don’t have to.”
I shook my head like that would chase away the doubts. “No. I love him. He’s a good guy. I’m fine. Really. Just getting the jitters. It happens to everyone.”
On any other day, Charli would call me on my shit without hesitation. But this time her mouth opened like she was about to say something, and closed just as fast. “You sure?” she asked quietly.
“Yup. I’m good.”
I dug through my things for a mirror to make sure my mascara was still intact.
There was a knock on the door, and my dad poked his head in. Charli immediately stood up straight and stuck her chest out.
Yeah, she had the hots for my dad. All my friends did. He was a good-looking guy, and still pretty young since he and my mom had me when they were barely twenty.
“Mr. Rutherford. Hi,” she said, batting her eyelashes.
“Charli, please call me Ben. You’re all grown up now. No formalities needed.”
Charli beamed.
He turned his attention to me. “Eddie’s running a little late. Just wanted to give you the head’s up.”
I nodded. “Oh. Okay.”
“You need anything?” he asked.
I looked around the room. “Maybe some water?”
He smiled, and Charli put her hand on the wall, trying to look casual.
That’s how good-looking Dad was.
“I’m on it, honey. Be right back.”
“It’s funny that he’s late. I’m usually the late one,” I said once Dad had closed the door.
Charli shook her head. “Seriously. I mean, how are people late on their damn wedding day? I’ve never understood that. You know the date ages in advance, and you have your clothes and all that stuff picked out, so what’s the holdup…”
While she ranted, I peeked out the door at the church vestibule. The arrival of guests had slowed to a trickle since it was officially past starting time.
I could call him. Maybe that’s what I should do.
But that would be whiny and needy. No, he’d be here when he got here. I just had to chill.
So when ten minutes turned into fifteen, I began to get pissed. Didn’t Eddie know all these people were waiting for him? And if we didn’t get started soon, that would throw the reception out of whack, including the salmon, which had to be served as soon as it was ready. Fish wasn’t the kind of thing that waited around. You accommodated fish. Not the other way.
“Hey, Es,” Dad said, poking his head back in the room and handing me some water.
He looked serious. This was not good. Not at all.
“I think it’s time we start making some phone calls.” He glanced at his watch. “You know, to find out where Eddie is.”
“What does his mom say?” I asked.
Dad shook his head. “I don’t know. She’s already seated, and I didn’t want to speak to her in front of everyone.”
Just then, as though she’d been summoned, Eddie’s mom came flying into the room, running straight for me.
She took my hands, and her eyes were watery.
Very watery.
“Honey, I just talked to Eddie.”
A single tear dribbled down her cheek.
“He’s not coming.”
I looked around at Charli and then Dad and laughed. “This is a joke, right? You’re just pulling my leg. Eddie is so funny with his pranks.”
His mom sighed. “It’s not a joke, Esme. I just got a text from him. He said he sent you a text too but that you hadn’t responded.”
I looked at my pile of street clothes and other crap. My phone was somewhere in that mess. That’s why I hadn’t gotten any text message. I ran across the room as fast as my narrow dress would let me and threw things aside until I found my phone.
His mom was right. There was a text from him.
Sorry. Can’t do it.
“What the fucking fuck?” I screamed. “That’s all I get? Four lame-ass words to call off a wedding.”
My dad rushed into the room and grabbed me by the arms. “Honey, don’t shout. Look, we’ll take care of it.”
I slipped my two-hundred-dollar high heels back on and shook Dad off. “No. You won’t take care of it. And neither will you,” I said, glaring at Eddie’s mom.
“I will take care of it.”
I pushed past everyone and stormed through the vestibule. I yanked open the double doors leading to the church, and walked up the aisle on the stupid white fabric thing that had been laid out for me to walk down. When I got to the front, I ignored the minister, and turned to face the congregation.
I held my phone up. “Sorry, folks. There’s no wedding today. My motherfucking fiancé just broke things off OVER A TEXT MESSAGE,” I shrieked.
Gasps rolled through the crowd, and people started looking at each other in disbelief. But before they turned their attention back to me, I stormed back down the aisle and to the waiting limo.
I knew that the minute the news sank in, the next thing on everyone’s face would be pity. Directed toward me.
And I was so not down with that.
