Ugly Girl Ties the Knot

by Alice Wasser

  I held up my left hand and noticed Maxine’s eyes were bugging out. In fact, the ring had attracted envious stares from several other women in the room.

  “You got yourself a winner right there,” Maxine told me, shaking her head in amazement. “He must really adore you.”

  I had no idea what to say. It was the first genuinely nice comment I had ever received from Maxine in my entire life. I was in shock.

  After that, the party seemed to be less about Rachel’s baby and more about Millie’s ring. Everybody in the room had to get a look at my ring—it was the talk of the night. I’ve never been into jewelry, but the women at this party definitely were. Plus the fact that I had a huge diamond meant that I had a fiancé who could support a plush lifestyle. I have to admit, Sam knew what he was doing when he bought that ring.

  A different kind of sister might have been angry about the way my ring hijacked her party. But Rachel seems to hate attention as much as I do, so I think she was happy to get the focus off her giant belly. Plus Rachel doesn’t have a jealous bone in her body.

  The diamond was big enough that even my mother felt compelled to comment. She avoided me for most of the night, but then came over to me just before Rachel was going to open her presents. “So let’s see the ring,” she said.

  I held up my left hand.

  Her eyes widened for a second but she tried to hide it. “I guess he feels like he has to impress you,” she said.

  “Can’t you say anything nice?” I said.

  The wrinkles on my mother’s face deepened. “Matilda, I really want you to think about the mistake you’re making.”

  “Ma…”

  “I heard you met Jacob Winston at work,” she said. “You know, he’s still single. And he’s Jewish! He’s very handsome, don’t you think so?”

  “I don’t know,” I mumbled.

  She caught my hesitation. “You like him!” she said triumphantly. “I knew it! Oh, Millie, he’s so nice. And he really likes you—I could tell.” She smiled. “Millie, just give Jacob a chance. He’s so wonderful.”

  “Ma, I’m engaged,” I said.

  “Right,” she said. “You’re not married! It’s not too late.”

  I sighed. “Ma, you can accept Sam and come to your oldest daughter’s wedding. Or you can stay home on the happiest day of my life.”

  One thing my mother and I have in common is that we can both be pretty stubborn. She gave me this knowing look, and said, “You’ll change your mind. I know it.”

  Then she got up and walked away from me.

  I didn’t want her to know how much her words had affected me. In a way, my mother knows me better than anyone else in the world. It disturbed me that she believed so strongly that I was going to change my mind.

  But I did my best to maintain my composure. If nothing else, I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing she was getting to me.

  May 12:

  I was arriving at work this morning when I happened to run into Jake right outside the building. He was dressed in a T-shirt and jogging shorts, and had a large V of sweat on the collar of the T-shirt, which was clinging to his skin.

  The time I had lunch with Jake, I had only imagined how sexy he would look under his dress shirt. Well, this time I didn’t need to use my imagination. Jake was built. My God. I don’t know if he had been running or at the gym or what, but he obviously took really good care of himself. It was hard not to stare.

  “Matilda!” he called out, waving to me.

  I slowed down, waiting for him to jog over me to me. Up close, he smelled all sweaty and manly. I promise you, I don’t think the smell of sweat is sexy, but right now, it was really sexy. I’ve seen Sam get sweaty like that, but only from, you know, bedroom activities. He doesn’t work out. At all.

  “Coming from the gym?” I asked him.

  He raised up the gym bag he was holding. “There’s one about five minutes away.”

  Five minutes away. That’s close enough for me to actually use it. Maybe I should join...

  (Oh, who am I kidding?)

  “The showers are disgusting though,” he added. “We’ve got a shower upstairs. I don’t plan to go through the day all sweaty like this, obviously.”

  The executives get a shower? Man, life really isn’t fair for the little people.

  “I was thinking about joining a gym,” I admitted. “But I’m not really into exercise. Especially at the beginning of the day. Doesn’t it knock you out?”

  “No way,” Jake said. “It’s just the opposite. It energizes you. You should try it.” He grinned at me. “We could go together. It would be fun.”

  “Actually, it was more to lose weight,” I admitted.

  And then I felt my face go red. Why did I tell Jake I was trying to lose weight? It’s like I have no control over the things that come out of my mouth sometimes, especially around a hot guy.

  “You don’t need to lose weight,” Jake said. “You look fantastic.”

  I was sure he felt like he had to say that. Any time a woman says she’s fat, everyone feels obligated to reassure her that she’s not. No, no, you’re just big-boned! “Uh huh,” I muttered.

  “You do,” Jake insisted. “Honestly, I think it’s crazy that all these women with these beautiful, sexy, curvy figures think they need to lose weight just because of the fake-looking women they see in magazines and in the movies.” He added (quite passionately), “It’s criminal.”

  “You should write your congressman,” I told him.

  Jake laughed. “Maybe I will.” He cleared his throat. “Dear Congressman…” He frowned. “What’s the name of our Congressman?”

  “I don’t know. Arnold Schwarzenegger?”

  “No, he’s the governor.”

  “I don’t think he’s the governor anymore.”

  “My bad.” Jake scratched his chin in a way that was completely adorable. “You know what? I can’t keep up with politics. I’ll have to just start a petition.”

  Now it was my turn to laugh. “Okay, you can let me know how that turns out.”

  Jake waggled his eyebrows at me. “Maybe you could help me? Like, over dinner this week.”

  I felt like I had entered a bizarro universe, where this incredibly sexy, handsome man wanted to take me to dinner. It was hard to even take it seriously.

  “I can’t do that,” I said. “You know, Sam…”

  I didn’t really need to complete the thought. Obviously my fiancé did not want me going to dinner with an incredibly sexy, handsome man.

  (Unless that incredibly sexy, handsome man was him. Because Sam is definitely all those things. But not so much with the perfect athletic body.)

  “So Sam doesn’t let you out to have dinner?” Jake asked, his eyebrows raised. “Even a completely platonic dinner with an old friend?”

  Platonic. Right. Except 32% of women who cheat do it with an old boyfriend or crush.

  “I really shouldn’t,” I mumbled.

  Jake was quiet for minute, then he nodded. “Okay. I don’t want to make trouble for you, Matilda. I just thought it would be fun to hang out. But maybe some other time.”

  Jake and I chatted about less serious things on the way up in the elevator, but I couldn’t help thinking about what he said. Maybe I was making too much out of the whole thing. It actually would’ve been pretty fun to have a dinner out with Jake. And it would’ve been completely innocent. Sam couldn’t say no to that.

  After all, I’m engaged, not in jail.

  May 13:

  Sam had to be at work early this morning for a meeting. He set his alarm for six a.m. and got out of our warm bed while I snuggled in my cocoon of blankets. “Lucky,” he murmured in my ear.

  Even though I was pretty tired, I had trouble getting back to sleep after the alarm went off. The sound of water running in the bathroom kept rousing me from almost-sleep. Finally, Sam came out of the bathroom, freshly shaved, but still in boxers and an undershirt.

  “Is Eva coming?
” I asked him.

  “Why don’t you let me worry about that?” he said. I took that to mean that she wasn’t coming and he was either going to change the dressing himself, or worse, not change it at all. But I was too tired to hassle him.

  My eyes were still cracked open as he pulled his undershirt off to get dressed. I feel so guilty saying this, but as I watched him, I couldn’t help thinking about the bulging muscles under Jake’s shirt. When Sam is sitting in his wheelchair with his shirt off, that’s probably the least flattering position he could be in. It’s not so bad while he’s lying in bed, but when he’s in his chair, the way he slumps a bit makes the lack of muscles really noticeable.

  Sam is incredibly handsome. There’s no arguing that. But not so much that part of him. If he were just overweight or something like that, it wouldn’t be such a big deal. I mean, I’m overweight (okay, obese) so it’s not like I can throw stones.

  The thing is, when he’s half-naked and sitting in his wheelchair, he looks so disabled. There’s no hiding it or sugarcoating it. And people are not trained to be sexually turned on by severe disability. Evolutionary-wise, we’re probably ingrained to be repelled by disability, since it’s a sign of weakness.

  (Yes, I am trying to justify my feelings based on evolution.)

  Obviously, I’ve never mentioned this to Sam. I would never say that to him. And honestly, 99% of the time, it’s really not that big a deal. But I’d be lying if I said I don’t think about it sometimes. Maybe 1% of the time. Or 2% of the time, at most. And especially when I see someone like Jake, who has such a perfect body.

  If Sam knew what I was thinking about Jake, he would be beyond hurt. I feel like the worst person in the world just for thinking it.

  I strongly suspect Sam knows that I prefer him with a shirt on though. Or maybe he just knows he doesn’t look good with his shirt off while sitting in his chair, which is why he almost never lets me see him that way.

  And anyway, he looks incredibly good with his shirt on, especially blue shirts that bring out the color in his eyes.

  May 16:

  Sam’s brother Eric and his wife Alicia came to visit this weekend. They brought their kids and all stayed at a hotel in the area. I know they were having some marital problems in the past, but they seemed okay now.

  Eric has always been incredibly nice to me, so I’m excited about having him as a brother-in-law. He reminds me a lot of Sam. Basically, he’s Sam with a few extra gray hairs and a few more wrinkles around his eyes, and obviously minus the wheelchair. I’m pretty sure he’s Sam’s best friend and they make an effort to get together at least once a month, despite the fact that Eric lives in Oregon.

  Alicia, on the other hand, is nothing like me. She’s several inches taller, and always wears her hair in some sort of elaborate French bun without one strand out of place. I assume she must be Eric’s age, but there’s something completely ageless about her face. When she looks at you, it’s like she has X-ray vision into your soul. It’s very unnerving.

  The second Alicia walked into our apartment, she said to me, “So you guys got engaged, huh? Finally.” She picked up my hand and looked at my ring. “Jesus Christ, Sam. You could have used a little restraint.”

  “I know, it’s big,” I said, blushing.

  “She’s totally worth it,” Sam said.

  Alicia rolled her eyes.

  Eric looked a little embarrassed by his wife’s response. He hugged me and kissed me on the cheek. “Congratulations, Millie. We’re so happy for you two.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  Sam’s two nephews raced in and he was ready with presents for both of them. Sam loves kids—he’s going to be such an amazing dad. In two minutes, the boys were running around the apartment and he was chasing them. I went into the kitchen to put some chips in a bowl, and to my dismay, Alicia followed me.

  “So when are you guys having kids?” Alicia asked me.

  “Oh, um, I don’t know,” I said.

  “I’m thinking Sam wants them right away,” she said. She squinted at me. “You okay with that, Millie?”

  “Um, yeah.”

  (That’s an understatement.)

  “Just don’t get knocked up before the wedding,” Alicia said. “It’s tacky.”

  I don’t think she realizes that Sam can’t ejaculate without medical assistance and I felt it was beyond the scope of our relationship to clue her in. I didn’t really want to talk about my sex life with Sam at all, except Alicia then said to me, “So how’s my brother-in-law in bed?”

  I nearly choked. I stammered something that wasn’t really an answer.

  “I bet he’s really good,” Alicia said.

  I didn’t want to elaborate on the fact that Sam was the absolute master of oral sex, that he practically made me levitate. So I just said, “Yeah, he is.”

  “I’m not surprised,” she said. “He’s very unselfish. Unlike Eric.”

  I was taken aback by her words. Alicia has an opinion about everyone, but I’d never heard her say a negative word about her husband.

  “Um, he’s…”

  “Eric and I are getting separated,” Alicia said.

  I stared at her. “You are? But I thought things were okay now.”

  “Not really,” she said.

  I didn’t know what to say.

  “Eric is moving here,” she said. “That’s why we drove down here with the SUV, so we could bring some of his boxes. This isn’t a recreational trip. Eric got offered a job out here that he really wanted, and the fact that I have a job in Portland and we have a beautiful house and our entire life is there didn’t seem to matter to him.”

  “I’m sorry,” I finally said.

  Alicia shrugged. “I’ll manage just fine on my own. I don’t need him or anyone.”

  “Does Sam know?”

  “Of course he knows,” Alicia said. “He helped Eric find an apartment out here.”

  “He, um, he never said anything to me.” I remembered last month when Eric was visiting, he didn’t ask me to come out with them like he usually does.

  “Maybe he thought it was none of your business,” Alicia said. She added, “No offense.”

  I love it when someone says something really offensive, then says, “No offense.” But then again, almost everything Alicia said was mildly offensive. She should just hold a sign with the words printed on it.

  “Don’t worry,” Alicia said to me. “Just because Eric and Sam seem alike, it doesn’t mean you’re going to get a divorce too. They’re actually pretty different.”

  I hated to admit it, but that was exactly what I was thinking. I think she was wrong—Sam and Eric are really similar. But like I said, Alicia and I are very different. I wondered what I would do if Sam were offered a job somewhere far away.

  (Who am I kidding? I’d have my bags packed in 24 hours.)

  Eric and Alicia stayed for another hour, then left together, but not necessarily to the same place. I guessed Eric was going to his new apartment and Alicia and the kids were going to her hotel. It was weird because they weren’t fighting, but they also weren’t talking. I noticed Sam and Eric spent a lot of time talking alone and they hugged when Eric left.

  “You didn’t tell me Eric and Alicia were getting divorced,” I said to Sam when they were gone.

  “They’re not getting divorced,” he said, almost defensively. “They’re just… separating for a little while.”

  “Well, you didn’t tell me they were separating for a little while.”

  “I know. Sorry.” Sam looked troubled. “Eric told me not to mention it to you. They’re trying to keep things quiet until they can break the news to our parents.”

  Sam seemed incredibly broken up about the whole thing. “It’s awful,” I said. “Eric is so nice.”

  “He is,” Sam said. “Alicia is being so unreasonable. He’s been looking for a job for a long time and there’s nothing out there. What was he supposed to do?”

  “I guess it’s a tough sit
uation.”

  “He’s hoping she’ll come to her senses,” he said. “But I’m not so sure…”

  “Why not?”

  “Alicia is used to getting what she wants,” Sam said. “I mean, I like her, but she’s not the kind of woman who would follow her husband around. She just expects him to fall into line.”

  I nodded. “I can see that.”

  “If I’m being entirely honest,” he said, “I don’t think they should have gotten married in the first place. Nothing he ever did was good enough for her. And he’s a great guy. Classic example of how nice guys always finish last.”

  “Do you finish last?” I asked. I was teasing a bit, but not entirely.

  “Well, it’s not a rule,” he said, smiling at me. He wheeled closer to me and pulled me into his lap. He buried his face in my hair. “I’m so lucky I have you, Millie. Truly.”

  I have to say, it makes me feel good that Sam can look at his brother’s beautiful wife and still declare that he’s the lucky one. But I know it’s really me who’s the lucky one.

  May 20:

  All right, I have a confession to make and it’s going to sound weird after my last entry:

  Lately, Jake and I have been texting a lot.

  Like, a lot. The average person age 25 to 34 sends about 75 text messages per day. Sam and I probably exchanged at least that many when we were first dating, but it’s leveled off a bit. But now, roughly every ten minutes or less, my phone chirps with a text message from Jake. I’d guess at least 75 messages are exchanged on an average day.

  (But to be fair, some large percentage of those text messages are just “yes” or “no” or something along those lines.)

  There is absolutely nothing going on. Nothing. But he texted me a couple of times about work-related stuff and I texted him to help me open a few Snapple bottles, and then we got to sort of joking around and it’s escalated. But it’s all just in good fun.

  Okay, I would be lying if I said that Jake’s tone wasn’t a bit flirty. I can’t even say what we really text about, mostly just joking around about work. Let me check my phone and give you an example of a recent exchange: