Bad Bridesmaid

by Portia MacIntosh

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I tell her again. ‘I’m really really sorry. I’m going to be honest, when I first arrived I thought you were being a crazy wedding bitch – the superstitions, demanding attention, falling to pieces over the slightest thing–’

  ‘OK, I get it,’ Belle interrupts.

  ‘Sorry. Again. But, yeah, I take full responsibility for recent events. I am fucking up from all angles, but I’m doing my best to put things right.’

  I should tell Belle that I’m going back to the States, she will probably feel relieved that I’m not going to be here to mess up her big day.

  ‘Mia, I haven’t really said so yet, but thank you,’ she starts before I get the chance to tell her anything. ‘I am grateful for everything you’ve done. Babysitting, helping me sort the flower crisis, making endless coffees because no one else can use the machine.’ She laughs, and as she does she smiles warmly. ‘You have caused a few problems,’ she continues. ‘You forgot to plan my hen party, but you gave me an amazing one! And you ruined my cake, but you put it right.’

  With every word Belle says, this incredible feeling washes over me. To be putting things right and to be forgiven feels amazing.

  ‘Anyway, Dan probably shouldn’t have left the cake just sitting there, on the worktop, uncovered, on a warm night, in the pitch black. He can be so dumb sometimes,’ she chuckles.

  I laugh, but only a little. Dan can be a little on the dim side, but he can’t be blamed for this.

  ‘Dan is a lovely guy, and he loves you so much,’ I tell her, but of course she already knew that.

  ‘I know,’ she smiles, ‘and I love him too. That’s the thing, when you love someone you can look past the little things like them being a bit dumb.’

  I smile and nod my head.

  ‘Or like them wanting to be with you so much but going about it all wrong because they don’t know how you’ll react if they tell you.’

  I nod, even though that one seemed a lot more specific, then I realise she’s talking about Leo and me.

  ‘Wait, what?’

  ‘Leo loves you so much,’ she tells me. ‘I think he has since the second he laid eyes on you. And…’ she pauses, ‘… I think you love him too.’

  With everything such a mess and with nothing left to lose, I pause to consider my feelings for Leo. I knew there was something between us the moment we met, but I thought that was just sexual chemistry because I heard the word ‘fireman’. When I heard that Nancy was into him, I was jealous. When I’ve needed him, he’s been there for me. When Belle put an end to our sexcapades it forced me to do something I hadn’t in a long time, to build a proper relationship with someone, and when I was so drunk that my defences were completely down, I fell asleep in his arms. Normally people get drunk and have meaningless sex; when I get drunk I let my meaningful feelings get the better of me. That’s why I feel so bad about everything I’ve done, because I love the people I am hurting and that includes Leo.

  ‘Oh fuck,’ I say, hiding my face with my hands. ‘Why did this have to happen to me?’

  My sister laughs.

  ‘I think you’re the last person to realise you’re in love,’ she tells me, highly amused. ‘And stop freaking out and treating it like it’s something awful that has happened to you – just feel lucky that it did.’

  I don’t feel lucky though, I feel a billion times worse. Leo and I live very different lives, very far apart. I have written one movie about a long distance relationship, and as we penned our usual happy ending, this one felt particularly bullshit to me because everyone knows that no relationship can survive distance, especially when there’s no goal to work towards.

  ‘So this is love,’ I laugh. ‘I thought if I ever experienced it, it might feel better than this. I needed it to happen with someone who lives in the same country as me, then I might have gone through with it.’

  ‘You don’t get to choose who you love,’ my sister reminds me. ‘Like you, you’re my sister and I’m stuck with you. You’re every bit as dramatic as the movies you write, you might not have had sex on my cake but I’m pretty sure you had sex with the cake – my wedding cake… but I love you.’

  ‘I love you too,’ I tell her, grabbing her from her chair and hugging her tightly.

  ‘And I love you both,’ I hear my mum say. I release my sister to turn around and look at my mum who is standing in the doorway in her dressing gown, her hair up as perfectly as it appears during the day.

  ‘Wait.’ I grab my phone. ‘Can you say that again, I need to film it.’

  My mum laughs, but I’d be lying if I said I was kidding.

  ‘You’re good girls,’ she tells us. ‘Both of you.’

  She takes a bottle of water from the fridge before heading back upstairs.

  From my usually frosty mother, that means the world.

  ‘The next time she’s driving me crazy, will you remind me that happened, please,’ I laugh to my sister.

  ‘I will,’ she giggles. ‘Mia, I’m so glad you’re here. It wouldn’t be right without you.’

  As my sister holds my hands and swings them gently, I remember the promise I made my boss, and how I had already decided I would skip the wedding to go home. Well, when I said that, I thought no one wanted me around.

  ‘Why did you pick on me when we were teens?’ I ask my sister. I’ve always wondered.

  ‘I suppose I was jealous,’ she admits.

  ‘You were jealous of me?’ I ask. ‘You’re remembering that the wrong way round. I was jealous of you.’

  ‘Nope. You were smart and funny – I’ve never been either of those things. School was so hard for me and you sailed through.’

  ‘I didn’t sail through, I was bullied for being different. And things like PE were a living hell for me – and you were awesome at that. You were friends with the cool kids,’ I remind her.

  ‘Yeah, but you had proper friends who liked you for you, not just because you were cool,’ she replies.

  ‘So we were jealous of each other,’ I laugh. ‘I wish we’d had this conversation sooner, we could’ve been friends.’

  ‘We are friends,’ she replies, hugging me again, and for a moment we stay like that.

  ‘We should get to bed,’ my sister sings, finally releasing me. ‘I’m getting married tomorrow!’

  ‘Yey,’ I squeak, but it’s hard to muster up the same enthusiasm when I know I’m supposed to be working. If I don’t go back, I’m in big trouble, but how can I leave when things are finally getting better with my family?

  Chapter 44

  It might be late here, but it’s still evening back at home. That’s why I’m going to call Dalia and try and sort this out sooner rather than later. The longer I leave it, the more trouble I will be in for not going back when I said I would.

  ‘Hey Mia, yikes, it must be really late there,’ she squeaks as she answers the phone.

  ‘It is,’ I laugh nervously.

  ‘Is everything cool with your flight?’

  ‘About that,’ I start, searching my brain for the right words. It turns out I don’t need to, because Dalia speaks first.

  ‘Mia, listen, Mr Skinner told me that if you called me with any excuses, I had to let him know straight away. Is it an excuse?’

  I can tell from Dalia’s voice that she isn’t entirely happy about having to do this, but Mr Skinner is the boss, I don’t suppose she has much choice.

  ‘It is,’ I sigh.

  ‘Hang tight and I’ll get him to buzz you now, cool?’

  ‘Cool,’ I reply, although it absolutely isn’t cool, I’m going to get one hell of a telling off.

  I sit and twirl a piece of my hair between my fingers as I wait for my phone to ring. It’s hard to know how to play this because, somehow, I don’t think explaining to my boss that I’m not coming back because I am finally patching things up with my family will work for him.

  My phone rings, and Mr Skinner’s name flashes up. It’s his home number, and I know how much he hates havin
g to deal with work when he is home. I wouldn’t have called now if I’d known this was going to happen.

  ‘Hello, Mr Skinner,’ I say as brightly as I can considering it’s the middle of the night here, I’m terrified, I’m going to have to tell him the opposite of what he wants to hear and I’ve just found out I have this terrible disease called ‘love’. ‘How are you?’

  ‘I was fine until someone disturbed me as I was about to have sex with my wife – do you know how rare that is?’ he replies grumpily.

  ‘Wow, over-share, OK. Sorry about that, I had no idea Dalia was going to call you,’ I explain.

  ‘Well, I asked her to call me if we were going to have a problem getting you back here to do your job – do we have a problem?’

  ‘Well, the thing is, my sister’s wedding is tomorrow, and that’s why I took this time off. But if I can just getting the wedding out of the way, I’ll hop on a plane the next day – maybe even the same evening. So I’ll definitely be at work on time – no, early – the next day.’

  ‘Yeah, OK, sure.’

  ‘Really?’ I squeak, amazed at his generosity.

  ‘In fact, why don’t you take an extra week?’ he continues.

  ‘Really?’ I ask, although I’m suspicious now. That’s too much.

  ‘Yeah, and I’ll have my wage for this month sent directly to you. In fact, when you come back, you can have my office.’

  Ah, he’s being sarcastic.

  ‘Look, I know I promised I’d be there tomorrow but come on, it’s my sister’s wedding.’

  ‘Mia, what this tells me is that you have no respect for your job,’ Mr Skinner starts. ‘You promise you will be here, and you go back on it. You have inappropriate inter-office relationships. You show up late for work almost every day. You are great at your job, but you are not irreplaceable, do you understand?’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘So will you forget the silly wedding business and come back to do your job? We both know the family time shit isn’t you, you make movies!’

  He bellows that last part, like everything is supposed to fall into place for me when I hear it, and it does, but not in the way he’s expecting. He thinks that instead of living my life, I should be writing about people who are, to make him far more money than I will get for doing much more work.

  ‘No.’

  ‘No, you won’t be returning to work on time?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘What do you think is going to happen now?’ he asks, unable to hide the amazement in his voice.

  ‘I suspect you’ll fire me,’ I reply casually. I always thought that if my dream job was ever on the line, I would do whatever it took to save it, but if whatever it takes is ruining my sister’s big day then I suppose that’s that.

  ‘Correctamundo,’ he replies, and even though he is confirming it, his little nod to Pulp Fiction only reminds me of the fun times I’ve had with my family – even if they were few and far between.

  ‘Well, you go enjoy having sex with your wife, Mr Skinner.’

  ‘You enjoy your wedding,’ he replies.

  And with that, the call is over. I am officially unemployed.

  ***

  I always thought I was a free spirit. One who is not restrained, as by convention or obligation; a nonconformist. Freedom is a wonderful thing. You can do what you want, when you want to. Take the internet, for example. You can watch Miley Cyrus twerking her butt off on YouTube, you can Facebook stalk your old school boyfriend and sob at how handsome he is/dance with joy because he’s going bald (delete where applicable), and you can even see exactly what two girls can do with just one cup (but let’s not and say we did).

  Like Miley sings in her song ‘Can’t Be Tamed’, I thought that if you tried to put me in a cage, I would explode. Hell, if you put me in that hideous feather dress that she wears in the video I’d probably have a panic attack.

  It’s a cliché, I know, but until I lost my job I took pride in the fact that I was a free spirit. I could do what I wanted, wear what I wanted, sleep with whomever I wanted. I didn’t have to answer to a boyfriend, I didn’t have kids to look after; the world was my oyster.

  I thought I was free. I thought I was spreading my wings, looking down on everyone – flying onwards and upwards. But now I realise I was just disconnected, I just kept doing the same old empty routine of work and gym whilst everyone else moved on with their lives. I thought I was flying onwards and upwards, turns out I’m the one who’s been left behind.

  I know it may seem like I think life is one big movie reference, but I think Norman Bates was onto something in Psycho. I know I probably shouldn’t read too much into the ramblings of a serial killer with a split personality, but he thought that we were all caught in our private traps, unable to ever get out. Of course Norman was bothered about this, but he said that he wasn’t. Well I am bothered, but unlike Norman I’m not about to give in to it by throwing on a wig and getting stabby in the shower. My job was a huge part of my personal private trap. I thought it was the only thing that mattered – and I was surrounded by people who encouraged that mindset. However, instead of losing my mind after getting fired, I feel weirdly liberated.

  It is the morning of the wedding, and as I stand on my balcony and look out over the beach I take in a deep breath of sea air and it feels amazing. This is what free feels like – I might even eat a cupcake after dinner, and I know exactly how terrible they are for you because I made them. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not about to eat myself stupid until I’m overweight again, but I shouldn’t be so hard on myself. Plus, I won’t be hanging around as many skinny actresses now – there’s the silver lining. I will have to find another job though, because even with my savings, I won’t last long in LA.

  I am snapped from my thoughts by a knock on my door.

  ‘Come in,’ I call out.

  ‘Good God, you’re naked,’ my auntie comments as she spots me standing undressed on the balcony.

  I look down at the pretty vest and pants I slept in, which cover far more skin than the bikini she has seen me in previously.

  ‘Hello, Auntie June,’ I say brightly. Nothing can quash this good mood.

  ‘I need to talk to you,’ she starts. ‘Well, actually, I need you to talk to Hannah. She won’t speak to me.’

  ‘Oh,’ is the only reply I can manage.

  ‘I mean, you must have had a trip or two to a clinic in your time,’ she starts, but then she softens a little. ‘I know you and I have never seen eye to eye, but she looks up to you. And I know you’re a sensible girl, and I know that you’ve been looking out for her.’

  ‘Auntie, I will happily speak to her. She’s a tough little thing, try not to worry, OK?’

  My auntie nods, and for a brief moment she gives me a sincere smile.

  ‘Look, I’m trying this new thing where I sort my shit out with everyone,’ I start, although probably not as eloquently as I could. ‘So what’s your problem with me?’

  ‘I don’t have a problem with you,’ my auntie replies coolly. I give her a look and she sighs.

  ‘Do you really think there’s something going on with Steve?’ I ask, not ready to give up on our heart-to-heart just yet.

  ‘No, but I see the way he looks at you. I’m not getting any younger, I wouldn’t be surprised if he left me for a younger model.’

  I am shocked by her moment of honesty. I don’t point out to my auntie that there’s no way a younger model would want boring old Uncle Steve, instead I try a different approach.

  ‘Auntie, I’ve spent a lot of time on the beach these past few days, and men just stare at women, it’s what they do. And the women don’t stare back, they don’t even notice. It’s just men being men. Steve loves you.’

  My auntie nods her head. That’s probably the best I can hope for.

  ‘So, Hannah,’ I remind her.

  ‘Well, she’s alone in her room if you want to try now. I’ll wait outside.’

  ‘OK.’

  I head for
the door.

  ‘Mia,’ my auntie calls after me.

  I stop and turn around, preparing myself for a heartfelt thank you.

  ‘Put some clothes on first, will you.’

  I laugh to myself as I grab something to throw on. Perhaps that was too much to hope for.

  ‘Hey, Teen Mom,’ I say I walk in Hannah’s room. I hear the click of my auntie’s tongue as I close the door behind me.

  Hannah, who is sitting on her bed, hugging her knees, gives me a half-hearted laugh.

  ‘First up, I am so sorry for the way your mum found out about this, that was not my intention. It’s just Leo was going on and on about it–’

  ‘It’s OK,’ she interrupts. ‘I’m fifteen and pregnant and your life is messier than mine.’

  ‘Thanks for that,’ I reply when I realise she’s serious.

  ‘I was too scared to tell my mum anyway, so you sort of did me a favour, but now she’s being a total freak about it.’

  ‘I don’t think she knows what to say or do,’ I tell her honestly. ‘The important thing to remember is that you have so many options. No matter what you decide, your life isn’t over. Do you know how many familiar faces returned to sit their GCSEs with baby bumps in my year? Three. And if you don’t think you’re ready to be a mum, then there are so many options for that too.’

  Hannah nods, listening attentively.

  ‘The important thing is to make an appointment with your doctor when you get back home, get it confirmed and then she’ll let you know what’s next.’

  ‘How do you know so much about so much?’ Hannah asks.

  ‘I watch a lot of movies,’ I laugh. ‘Shall I call your mum back in here? If she’s being a freak, I’ll tell her to chill. She does want to be there for you.’

  ‘OK, yeah.’

  ‘Oh, Grandma June,’ I call out, shortly before my unimpressed auntie walks in.

  ‘I think she thinks she’s funny,’ June tells her daughter with a slight snigger as she sits down next to her.

  ‘I’m sorry for not telling you sooner,’ Hannah tells her mum.

  ‘And I’m sorry for reacting the way I did,’ she replies. ‘Let’s just enjoy the wedding, go home and then we’ll discuss what to do.’