My eyes travel the length of the mirror in the stall. Even barefoot, there is no doubt this dress looks amazing. I step closer, admiring the sweetheart construction. The dress is short sleeved and falls mid-thigh. It looks…
Damn. I’m afraid to really look at the price tag, because I have to get this dress. It’s flattering in all the right ways. Charlie’s never seen me in something like this. I can only imagine what he’d think.
I turn to the side, putting my hand on my stomach. My flat stomach. I imagine how it would look to be carrying a baby and watch my shoulders slump.
Shake it off, I warn myself. Shake off the negative thoughts!
It’s funny, I always thought that I would be a mom, with three or four kids hanging off me at all times. In the past, whenever I pictured my future self, I always saw children with me.
I did everything I was supposed to do. I concentrated on school, and once I earned my degree, I got a good job. But somewhere along the way I missed the step where I just magically find a partner to share it all with, and who celebrates with me when I find out I’m pregnant.
Now, as I look at myself in the mirror, and for all my accomplishments, all I can see is what I lack. I can’t look at myself and smile, because I know that there’s a very good chance I’ll end up childless. And if I eventually find Mr. Right, I can’t give him kids. Oh my God these hormones have come out of nowhere.
I try to talk myself down from the crazy ledge I’ve put myself up on, but it’s impossible. I turn just as Diane knocks at my door before trying to whip it open.
“What are you doing? Come look. I don’t know about this one…” Diane says from behind the door. “I think I’m going to just pass.”
Meanwhile, I’m trying to ignore the prick of tears at the back of my eyes, trying not to think of how cute baby shoes are, how I’ll never have a reason to assemble the antique crib that my mother gave me.
I’m silently freaking out, and totally ashamed of it. It’s only when Diane knocks on the fitting room door again that I’m able to pull myself together.
“Come look at this one,” she begs me. “I think this is the one.”
I wipe at my eyes and step out.
“That dress is gorgeous,” she immediately replies staring at it as I walk out. Deep breath in. I do love this dress and it would be perfect. “Do you think they have it in my size?”
I frown. “For the wedding?”
“Yeah, I freaking love that dress.”
“I think I’m going to get it,” I answer her in a tone that signifies, hey, this one is mine.
“Oh. Are you sure?” she questions.
Taking another look in the mirror in front of us, this one far larger than the one in the fitting room, I nod. “Yes.”
“Ugh. Okay. Well, what do you think of my outfit?”
She twirls in a circle. She’s wearing a two-piece dress that shows off her mid drift made of a deep read twill.
“Beautiful,” I answer honestly. “Not everyone can pull that off.
She blows out a breath. “Is it right for a wedding though?” she questions and I honestly wouldn’t think so but I only shake my head mildly. I’m not sure I’d wear something with my midriff showing but I do think it’s a laidback wedding and I really don’t ever show my midriff.
“This shop doesn’t have anything cute anyway.” Diane’s response shocks me as she walks off. She disappears back into her changing stall, and I do, too.
“Hey, are you ready? I think I want to stop at the food court before we go, get a sugar-free, fat-free froyo.” Diane’s voice is so full of happiness.
“Uh, just a second,” I call out. I unzip the dress. “I’ll be right there.”
“Okay. I’ll be looking at the jewelry.”
I put the dress back on the hanger, listening to her footsteps fade as she leaves the fitting room area, then take a deep breath. I stare at the dress for a long moment, knowing that I won’t find anything nearly as perfect anywhere else.
And I’ll match Charlie. I’ll look good next to him in this dress, like I belong with him. I’ll look like I could be his real girlfriend instead of a pretend one.
I shimmy back into my jeans and sweater, then consider the dress once more. It only takes one more look at the dress before I scoop it up and head for the register.
They did offer credit card applications after all. So the dress is mine along with a new shiny store credit card I’ll never use again.
Charlie
My eyes drift to the entrance of the bar like they’ve done all night. I’m waiting for her. I’m eager for that shy smile to greet me and to watch her walk those sweet curves through the doors. I’m ready for Grace to act like she’s not affected by me, as all the while that blush creeps up to her cheeks.
Checking the clock again and clearing my throat, the faint itch in my throat that’s nagging me does nothing but irritate me.
I’ve been waiting all night. She’s usually here by now. I’m not used to these nerves or waiting on anyone. Not like this.
The faint hum of the televisions behind me and the chatter in the bar keep me company as I go through paperwork, while sitting at a table. James is back on bartending duty. Occasionally, I peek over my shoulder, checking on him and propping my feet up on the chair across from me, trying to relax. Acting like this is any other night.
James has a charming smile as he talks with a few of the patrons. His uncle’s here, Frank, in his normal spot. I’m sure James isn’t going to act like a little shit with him here. This is his last chance after showing up late yesterday and forcing Mags to handle all those boxes herself. He’s on thin fucking ice.
My chair scrapes the floor as I shift in my seat, trying to get comfortable in the back right corner. I’ve got a perfect view of the front entrance. I’m right next to the end of the bar. It’s the closest I could be to Grace’s usual seat.
Shaking my head, I wonder what the hell’s come over me. Worked up over a woman. A woman I haven’t even kissed. Haven’t touched. A woman who isn’t my girlfriend… Yet.
The papers rustle in my hands as I go through all the bills again. We’re making a damn good profit and the return on investments are steadily on an increase when last year they were flatlined. I almost feel like I can breathe, like I can take a damn break, but I know it’ll only take one hiccup to have something get fucked up.
Sitting up straighter in my seat and moving the soles of my shoes from the chair to the floor, I try to get this weird feeling to leave me. I need a beer. I need to relax.
I need my sweetheart to get her ass in here.
My gaze drifts to my phone, face down on the tabletop. My foot taps relentlessly on the floor. It’s really not like her to be this late. It’s almost eight o'clock.
As if staring at my phone will will her to call, I spend a long moment doing just that, debating on shooting her a text. She hasn’t messaged me since the other morning.
I blow out a breath. It’s not like any of this is real anyhow. It’s just flirting.
Back to work, and letting go of all this tension, I lean back in my seat and grab my pen to tally up the bills in my record book. So far, so good. Everything’s looking on point and within budget as I scribble down the amounts.
“Charlie, are these seats taken?”
My hand stops mid-stroke as I hear my mother’s voice.
“He saved them for us,” I hear Ali say. Tension creeps up my back. What the heck are they doing here?
My notebook lowers to the table with a dull thud as I give them both a tight smile. I don’t know what it is about my family coming to my bar. Part of the reason I built this bar was to get them out of my mind. To get the whole damn town out of my head.
But I can never say no to Ma. Or to Ali. And the town fucking followed me here anyway. It’s not like my bank account complains.
“Pull up a chair,” I tell Ma. I lean over and let her kiss me on the cheek although my gaze darts to the entrance. Suddenly I’m gratefu
l Grace isn’t here.
I can feel her lipstick smudge on my cheek, and I wait for her to look back at the bar before I wipe it off.
“To what do I owe this pleasure?” I question them, not hiding the surprise and wariness. My eyes flicker to the entrance again, and this time it’s a different kind of anxiety running through me. They saw her picture. If she walks through that door, I’m fucked.
“We just wanted to see you,” my mother says in a sweet voice, but I don’t buy her southern charm for a second. Setting her purse in front of her, both palms on the bright floral fabric, she adds. “Can’t a mom just want to see her son?”
“You just saw me, Ma.”
My mom smacks my hand playfully, “You know what I mean.”
“Did you get your suit fitted?” my sister asks me, a real sense of urgency in her voice. Maybe this is just for the wedding. They aren’t trying to worm their way into whatever Grace and I have going on. It’s just the wedding, I convince myself and I would relax but… no, I did not get my suit fitted.
I nod my head once, but I can’t look her in the eye as my mouth opens. Fucking hell. I scratch the back of my head, looking toward the door again and letting out a sigh.
“Charles Theodore,” my mother scolds me, “you need to get your tux fitted!” She smacks me on the arm, yet again, but this time with the tall menu on the table. Her lips are pressed into a thin line, but luckily I don’t have to respond.
“It’s a suit,” Ali says as she yanks the menu from Ma’s hands. “I don’t want tuxes.” She says the last line as if she’s said it a million times to our mother before and I know she has.
“I don’t understand you, girl,” Ma shakes her head, but there’s a playfulness to her tone.
“Can I get y’all anything to drink?” I hear James over my shoulder, and I turn to take him in. He shouldn’t have left the bar, but a quick look shows that it’s just the regulars. And it’s not like Maggie is going to come over here. Everyone knows Ma and Ali… and the rest of my family.
“No, no thank you,” Ma says and pushes off the table, “we’re having a late dinner down at Iron Grill.” An immediate sense of relief comes over me as I realize they’re leaving. “I just wanted to stop in and say hi to my baby boy.”
I can’t help the flaming blush rising to my cheeks. I’ll be sixty years old and she’ll still be calling me her baby boy, I know it. Ma and Ali stand first, Ali lamenting how she’s starving with all this stress and that I need to get my suit fitted. Immediately.
Thank the good Lord they’re leaving; standing up to give them both a quick farewell hug I finally feel relieved. And that’s when I see Grace walk in from the corner of my eye.
Fuck.
My heart hammers in my chest, and it beats even faster when Ali follows my line of sight and squeals.
“No way! Grace!” A wide smile accompanies Ali as she practically runs to greet a wide-eyed and surprised Grace a few feet from the entrance. Every red alarm bell goes off in my head. Ali’s got her in a hug before Grace knows what hit her.
With Ma in tow, I scold Ali, “Let the woman breathe Ali?”
“So-” my sister lets a now-catching-on Grace go when I stop beside them, feeling caught in a trap. It was a coup. I know it and I stare at both of them, my mother and my sister, letting them know as much, but neither looks at me, all of their attention is on my poor sweetheart. Shit.
“Hi there, Grace,” Ma’s voice is lower than usual as she takes Grace in. Her eyes travel down the blush-colored blouse Grace is wearing, and a smile finally ticks up on Ma’s face.
Damn right. There’s not a single reason Ma shouldn’t like Grace. She’s smart and sweet from head to toe. And looking to really settle down.
Ma should like that, even if I don’t.
“Hi,” Grace looks between the two of them, visibly swallowing as she moves the clutch in her hands back and forth and then stares at me with a pleading look.
“Just go along with it, sweetheart,” I whisper in her ear as I give her a small peck on the cheek, followed by a hug. All for show for my family. Just go along with it. Please. That little peck though. It does something to me. Something that lights up every nerve ending in me.
“Ali,” I say, looking at my sister and then Ma, “Ma, this is Grace.”
“It’s lovely to meet you.” Ma and Ali say almost at the same time before Grace can get a word out. The nervousness is coming off her in waves.
“Same to you,” Grace says in a gentle tone as she smiles shyly and bites down on her lip. “You both look lovely.”
“So like I started to say,” Ali says quickly, “I know we have to go,” she looks at Ma, giving her a look that says, ‘we saw her, she’s real, now let’s go and not scare her off,’ and then back at Grace, “but I was wondering...” Her voice gets a little higher as she sways back and forth and looks like she’s holding her breath for a minute.
Is Ali nervous? What the hell does she have up her sleeve?
“Would you like to be my bridesmaid?” Ali says quickly, and I swear all the blood drains from my face. My sister has lost her damn mind. Grace’s pouty lips drop open slightly in surprise and before she can get an answer out, the words rush out of my sister’s mouth, “It’s a small, intimate wedding. Low commitment. Really not a huge deal in terms of setting things up or anything.” Her hands wave animatedly in the air as she continues, “You don’t have to even get a dress. The girls are all wearing their own thing. I just really would love it if you would be in it. You mean something to my brother and that means the world to me.”
Grace’s expression stays completely the same with the exception of her brows raising. I’d laugh if I wasn’t mortified.
“It’s less than two weeks away-” I try to cut in and give Grace an excuse.
“Nonsense,” Ali says with a hurt look. “There’s nothing to it.” She shakes her head and gives Grace those puppy dog eyes that let her get away with murder growing up.
“I don’t have time to really…” Grace swallows thickly and tries to say no, politely. I don’t know why that makes a tinge of hurt settle in my chest. Of course she should say no. That picture we sent them was a lie.
“It would mean the world to me,” Ali repeats and reaches out and grabs Grace’s hand, which Grace holds back. “I know this seems out of the blue, but it’s just that Charlie hasn’t had anyone serious in his life in so long and I really want to welcome you into the family. The numbers are uneven, too. Michael has an extra groomsman.”
I close my eyes, completely embarrassed and mortified.
It’s quiet for a moment, but as I slowly open my eyes I see Grace slowly nodding her head. “I am honored and would love to.”
“Yay!” Ali squeals with excitement again, jumping up and down while hanging on Grace’s shoulder. Shit, I feel like an asshole for dragging Grace into this. “I have a dress appointment next week if you want to come, you have to meet all my friends; they’re dying to meet you. It’s going to work out perfectly. This was meant to be. I just know it was.”
Before I can tell my sister how ridiculous she is, she’s dragging Ma out of the bar and as much as I want to tell them how crazy this is, I’d rather have them out of here as soon as possible. Grace stands in place, holding onto the clutch like it’s going to save her life.
“Lovely to meet you both,” Grace bids them farewell tucking a strand of loose hair from her bun behind her ear.
“It was nice to meet you too, Grace,” Ma responds.
“I’ll see you soon, Grace! Charlie give her my number,” and with that last demand, called out over her shoulder, they're gone and I’m left alone with Grace.
Her mouth hangs open a moment in complete shock.
“You alright?” I ask her warily.
“I just… did I really just agree to be your sister’s bridesmaid?” Blinking rapidly, Graces looks between me and the now closed doors to the bar.
A smile forces its way onto my face as I see Grace look aro
und her like she just got swindled.
“You did,” I tell her easily.
“Holy shit,” she says with a smile. “I need a drink… you’re buying this time.”
A chuckle leaves me, rough and low and I follow her over to the bar.
“You got it, sweetheart.”
Given how my family can be, my sweetheart handled herself pretty well, but I don’t know how we’re getting out of this one…
Grace
It’s late, definitely after five o'clock already. Darn it. Glancing into the cubicles in the office, I find them empty. I slide my headphones off and hit pause on the playlist that I listen to when I really need to focus.
I had a feeling it was getting late, but not this late. Flicking my gaze to the clock on my computer screen, I confirm it’s almost six. Yep, it’s past quitting time for most of my coworkers and now I’m here all alone. Physically separating myself from my work and letting out a long exhale, I push myself back from my desk.
I spent the day working up several new ads for a health food company who wanted the whole package. From billboards to Google ads and social media placements. I’m not going to lie; I think they’re going to love them all. Their branding and messaging is solid. Still, it’s always a good idea to sleep on it, and look at it with fresh eyes the next day. It’s already six anyway; I can email the files for approval tomorrow.
When I stand up I have to crack my neck and back I’m so sore. And then I try to down the rest of my coffee but I find it empty. Oh how I wish Tracey were here now with a hot cup to keep me from falling over. I probably need some water to balance out the crapload of caffeine I put in my body today.
I head to the small kitchen to the right of the elevators, where they keep a filtered water cooler and stumble on Diane, who’s talking with Elaine and Karan, two coworkers from a couple of floors up.
Love Me Like I Love You Page 8