by Kelly Myers
If they turn out to be cool and nice people, I’ll just feel guilty.
I wonder if that guy Vince will be there with his girlfriend. He was a genuinely nice person. I feel a pang in my stomach. I got along with Vince. There was no faking there. If all the other guests are like Vince, I’m going to feel major shame.
I snap my suitcase shut. I still need to pack a few things, but that can wait until after my shift tomorrow.
“Alright, I’m starving.” I grin at my friends, as if this were any old girls night. “Let’s order in?”
They all agree, and everyone is cheerful. They only stop to remind me that I can call them anytime this weekend for help about five times.
All in all, it’s a pleasant evening. Yet somehow after they’ve all gone home, and I’m alone again, I start to wonder if I’m making a terrible mistake.
I drove all the way to that nudist colony junior year. I was convinced that maybe college wasn’t for me, and I needed to live free to delve into my art. I was only at the colony for fifteen minutes before I realized it was super strange and basically a cult. No judgment to nudists out there, but it was not for me.
So, I got in my car and drove back to campus and turned the whole thing into a hilarious story. Just another crazy adventure for Marianne.
But underneath my jokes and stories, there was always a bit of embarrassment. I had tried something new and bold, and it hadn’t worked out, so I just quit. I just covered my pain by putting on a performance of levity.
At what point will the adventures not be funny anymore? At what point does the pain outweigh the unique story?
16
The day is bright and sunny, and it promises perfect weather for the wedding.
I’m standing on the sidewalk, with my suitcase by my feet. In my striped sundress and jaunty straw hat, I look like a carefree girl, about to enjoy a weekend away with her boyfriend.
I’m anything but that. Leo is due to arrive in five minutes, and I’m having major stage fright.
No, stage fright isn’t the right term. I feel fine about my ability to perform. I know once we arrive at the wedding, I’ll get a burst of adrenaline, just like at the bridal shower.
I’m nervous about everything in between the performances. This car ride, for example. What will we talk about? The ride to the bridal shower was quick, and we needed the time to nail down details and prepare.
This inn is a good two hours away. That’s a lot of time alone in a car with someone.
And what about when Leo and I are alone in the hotel room together? My stomach does a nervous flip at the idea.
At ten on the dot, a car pulls up. Leo mentioned driving in his car, and I assumed it would be something flashy like a convertible, but it’s just a regular subaru. Practical. A wise investment.
Leo rolls down the window and waves. I head to the trunk to toss my suitcase in, but he leaps out of the driver’s seat and grabs it for me.
Ever the gentleman, he even opens the passenger door for me, and I slide in, enjoying the rush of air conditioning that envelopes my legs.
“Alright, you got everything?” Leo asks.
“Yup,” I say.
“You sure you don’t want to double check? Make sure you didn’t forget your dress?”
I roll my eyes. Leo can be so patronizing. Just because I’m a barista doesn’t mean I have the memory of a goldfish. “I’m sure.”
Leo presses his lips together but doesn’t say anything. He turns to the GPS and types in the address, then we hit the road.
“So.” I drum my fingers on the dashboard. Awkward situations make me fidgety. “Do you feel prepared?”
Leo shrugs. “More or less.”
I think about what my friends said and just blurt out the first question that pops to my head. “Are you going to feel weird in twenty years when you see the pictures from this wedding and I’m in them?”
“I didn’t even think of that.” To my surprises, Leo chuckles. “I think it’ll be fine, I doubt I’ll be making any photo albums.”
I look over at him. His eyes are fixed on the road, and he’s got both hands on the steering wheel, at 10 and 2, just like driving instructors teach. It’s so like him to have such perfect form, even in something like driving. He’s methodical. Thorough. Everything I’m not.
The sunlight dances through the windshield and illuminates his clear skin. There’s tints of chestnut in his hair, which I’ve never noticed before.
“Well, I’ll still try and avoid cameras,” I say.
Leo gives me a sideways glance. “Are you sure you can do that? I feel like you thrive off being in the spotlight?”
He’s not saying it in a cruel way, he’s just gently teasing, so I can’t help but smile. “True, but I can reign it in if I need to.”
“You need to be in some photos,” Leo says. “I’m trying to show you off, after all.”
I look down and bite my lip to hide my smile. Just a hint of flirtation from him, and I want to grin like an idiot. What’s wrong with me?
“So it’s no longer about just proving to your friends that you’re not a total commitment-phobe with zero game?” I ask. “Now you want to rub it in their faces.”
Leo cocks his head. “Pretty much. And also, the shower was fun.”
“It was.”
I turn to look out the window. We’re already on the highway exiting the city. I don’t leave Chicago much. Everything I love – restaurants, parties, different people all chasing a dream – is in the city. I know Elena loves to go hiking, and over the years, we’ve occasionally gone on weekend girls’ trips, but it’s been awhile since I left Chicago.
I feel a strange sort of peace as the crowded sidewalks turn to rolling green fields. In a new place, it will be even easier to pretend to be someone else. The physical distance from my friends and all their concerns will put me at ease.
Leo turns some music on, and I turn towards him in surprise.
“Bruce Springsteen?” I ask.
“You’re not a fan?”
“No, I love him,” I say. “Seriously, when I first started writing music, he was a big inspiration.”
“You write songs?” Leo asks.
“Yeah, it’s actually mostly what I do,” I sya. “Sing and write. The acting is just side stuff.”
“You didn’t mention that before,” Leo says.
“Well, I was trying to play up my acting cred to land the job,” I joke. “But yes, mostly I’m a singer/songwriter.”
It must sound absurd to him, with his investment banking job and his big office and his expensive suits. He probably doesn’t get why anyone would make the irresponsible and fiscally dire decisions that I’ve made. I straighten my spine. I don’t want to feel ashamed. I shouldn’t be ashamed. I’m doing what makes me happy.
“So what’s your best song?” Leo asks. “Come on, I want to hear it.”
“No way,” I say. “Not in your car.”
“Don’t play coy,” Leo teases. “I know you’re not shy.”
“Yeah, but I don’t sing for free,” I say. “You’ll have to come to one of my real gigs and pay the cover charge.”
Leo laughs again, and I watch as every muscle on his face relaxes. “Of course, I should have known.”
I lean back against the car seat. It was silly to be nervous for this drive. Being around Leo is always easier than I expect.
We pass the next hour talking about music (Leo doesn’t have a wide range, but he likes what he likes) and other random topics.
At last, we pull up at the cutest most idyllic inn, right near a big lake surrounded by rolling hills and a forest.
The inn has a wide porch with rocking chairs, and the clapboard shutters make it look like it was built a long time ago. However, I can tell from the fresh coat of paint that it probably has the highest quality amenities inside. I would expect nothing less from a woman like Melanie.
We step out of the car, and Leo grabs our luggage from the trunk.
; “Not everyone is here yet, but there might be some people in the lobby,” he murmurs to me.
I smile up at him and nod. If anyone is looking out a window, they would see an adorable couple. Leo in his navy shorts and tennis shoes, me in my baby blue sundress. Then he takes my hand as we walk towards the entrance, and the perfect image is complete.
The lobby is cute and cozy. There are pretty paintings hanging on the wall, and the couches are pastel colors. Leo and I walk up to the check-in desk. While he’s talking to the concierge, I turn and spot a familiar face near the stairs.
Vince. This time, there’s no Dora. Gossip that I am, I immediately get curious. Is he single? Or is Dora just up in their room at the moment?
Vince catches my eye from across the lobby and waves. I smile back, as he crosses over to us.
“Hey, Marianne, nice to see you again!” Vince says. “You too, Leo.”
Leo turns and smiles at his friend.
Vince leans in close to me and whispers in a conspiratorial tone. “To be honest, we all were hoping Leo could hold on to you, you’re by far the best date he’s brought anywhere. Not that he has ever had many dates.”
It’s a little snarky, but at least Vince is mostly paying a compliment.
“I heard that.” Leo is shaking his head and smiling, so I smile too. This is just the way Leo’s friends talk to him, I guess.
“I heard about Dora,” Leo says. “I’m sorry.”
“Eh, it’s ok.” Vince shrugs and shoves his hands in his pockets. “I’ve resigned myself to being the only single person at this wedding. Besides Abby, of course, but then everyone knows she could date whoever she wanted.”
“Abby is another good friend from college,” Leo says. “Is she here already?”
I’m instantly on high alert. Who is this perfect Abby? An image of a super-thin woman with perfectly-applied makeup and shiny hair pops into my head.
“Yeah, I ran into her about an hour ago when I was checking in,” Vince says. “A bunch of us are actually planning on going on a little hike to a spot to swim later.”
Leo looks right at me. To Vince, it looks like he’s gauging my interest as any attentive boyfriend would, but I know he wants to know if I’m up to start the performance. I’m a little overwhelmed at how quickly we were spotted, but this was what we knew it was going to look like. Lots of smaller interactions with friends.
“That sounds fun,” I say.
“Alright, we’ll just get settled in our room,” Leo says. “When are we meeting for the hike?”
I allow myself a small smile. Even when it’s something social and casual, Leo is so fastidious.
“Down here in about an hour,” Vince says. “See you guys soon.”
Vince gives me one last broad smile before walking away.
Leo and I head up to our room on the second floor. It’s just as nice and rustic as I imagined. The bed duvet is sky blue, and big windows look out over the sparkling lake.
I drift over to the window and gaze out. “It really is perfect weather for a wedding weekend.”
“Yeah, there’s a small chance of rain later tonight though,” Leo says. “I checked.”
“Of course, you did.” I smirk and turn around.
Leo is standing awkwardly by the bed.
Of course. Sleeping arrangements within the room.
Leo clears his throat. “So this couch pulls out, so that’s what I’ll do, and I can just take the duvet and pillow from the bed.”
He could request sheets from downstairs, but I know why he won’t do it. At a wedding like this, with friends like his, that kind of gossip would spread like wildfire.
“Sounds good,” I say.
I reach for my suitcase and kneel on the floor to open it up.
“We should probably get into our bathing suits for this hike, right?” I ask.
“Yeah,” Leo says.
“You can use the bathroom first,” I say. “I need to hang up a few things.”
Leo nods and walks into the bathroom. That wasn’t too bad. And I’m sure by the time it’s time for actual sleeping, we will be tired enough that it won’t have to be a whole tense situation where we’re in the same room but not the same bed.
Although the bed is big. Plenty of room for the both of us. I almost want to suggest that we just share, what’s the big deal?
But I know better than that. Leo will think I’m coming onto him or something. It’s best to just let him call the shots with the sleeping arrangements.
I pull my dresses out of my bag and hang them up in the closet. I put my shoes in there as well. Then I grab my swim suit from the suitcase as well as a pair of jean shorts and a mint green cotton T-shirt. For a hike and a swim, Leo can’t expect me to be all dolled up, right? He is very much not a jeans shorts and t-shirts type of guy, but I’m not going to wear a sundress on a hike. That’s where I draw the line.
Leo emerges from the bathroom in a pair of sky-blue swim trunks and a T-shirt. So he does own a T-shirt. It’s white and has the name of what I assume is his high school on it.
I smile and take my turn in the bathroom.
When we’re both ready, we head down to the lobby. We explore the inn a bit, but soon we see a group gathering in the lobby.
Leo leans down and whispers in my ear. “You got this.”
“I know.”
Then, without hesitating, we walk towards the group, hand in hand.
17
Abby does not have perfect shiny hair, and she is not supermodel thin. But she is pretty. She has dark hair that is thick and pulled back into a ponytail.
She shakes my hand and gives me a bright smile. “It’s nice to meet you, I was out of town for the shower, but I heard all about you.”
“Nice to meet you as well.” I force my lips into a smile just as cheerful as hers. “You know Leo and Jacob from college, right?”
“Yes.” Abby turns to Leo. “It’s been awhile, how’s work?”
Leo launches into a description of some complex investment banking detail, while Abby nods along as if she knows exactly what he’s talking about. Meanwhile, I try and remember any mention of Abby in any of the emails Leo sent. To be honest, it’s not like I studied those emails very hard, but I did scan the lists of people. I think she was there, nestled in between a bunch of others, with very little detail by her name.
Now that I see her and Leo, I’m wondering why he didn’t say more. They seem awfully chummy.
But, why am I so bothered by it? It’s not jealousy, I decide. I’m playing the part of Leo’s girlfriend and it’s natural for any girlfriend, no matter how cool and relaxed, to wonder about other women who seem close, even if just in friendship, with her boyfriend.
“Those two will get going about the most boring stuff for hours.”
I turn to see Vince, right behind me. His murmur was conspiratorial, but he’s smiling. He means it in good fun. Light ribbing towards his friend.
“What does Abby do?” I ask.
“She’s an attorney,” Vince says.
“Ah, that makes sense.” I shrug and smile as if it doesn’t bother me at all. Because it doesn’t. I’m playing the role of a great girlfriend who is in a happy and healthy relationship. That means I won’t say anything snarky about boring old Abby, even if she is standing really close to Leo as she talks about her latest case.
“It’s funny,” Vince says. “I never thought Leo would end up with a creative type.”
“Oh, I’m not that creative,” I quickly say. “I’m in marketing.”
“But don’t you do community theater too?”
My heart stops. I feel Leo stiffen behind me, but he doesn’t swoop in. He continues his conversation with Abby, leaving me to figure out how much Vince knows.
“Huh?” It’s not my most intelligent moment, but I can’t form real words.
“I thought I recognized you at the shower, and then it came to me later,” Vince says. “Last summer I went to a musical in Boystown, you were in i
t! You were so good.”
“Oh, right,” I say. “Yeah, I always loved theater and singing so I sometimes do community theater. On the side, it’s hard with my work schedule.”
My heart finally settles back into my chest. It’s still shocking that Vince saw a production I was in and remembers it, but it’s also a stroke of good luck that he’s assumed it was my hobby, not my actual passion. It’s the first rule of performance actually. People see what they expect to see. All you have to do is make a suggestion, and often they’ll supply the rest. Leo and I told everyone I was his girlfriend who worked in marketing, and they’ve all believed it.
“You should do it more,” Vince says. “Seriously, you were really good.”
I blink up at him. Every performer loves to hear praise. “Really?”
“Yeah,” Vince says. “And now is the time when we should pursue our passions. That’s what youth is for. At least, that’s what I told myself when I left banking to start the restaurant.”
“Yes,” I say. “You’re probably right.”
“You sang that one song.” Vince snaps his fingers in excitement as he remembers. “In Act 2, you totally stole the show.”
“What song?” Leo appears at my side. Apparently he still thinks the situation with Vince is dicey, so he’s abandoned his catch-up session with Abby.
“Oh, it was this original musical for community theater I did last summer,” I say. “I was a supporting character but I had this one good song.”
“You’ve heard her sing, right?” Vince asks. “She’s, like, super good.”
“Really?” Abby joins the conversation as well. She doesn’t sound doubtful about my abilities, just curious, but even so I want to punch her in the face.
“I’m alright,” I say.
“Of course I’ve heard her sing,” Leo says.
We all pause as if we’re waiting for him to say more, but he doesn’t elaborate, which is probably for the best since he has never heard so much as two notes out of me.