by Mia Kayla
“Okay, there.” Kendy finally finished with the top button and patted my shoulders.
Finally, I let out the breath that I’d been holding in, filling out the gown. By the end of this night, I swore, I’d have button marks etched into my skin. The bodice was squeezing the life out of my stomach, and the top was pressing tightly against my chest. One wrong turn, and I was convinced that one of my boobs would fall out.
“Wow, cleavage.” Kendy giggled as she stepped around me to take me in.
I would have hit her, but I could barely move, let alone raise my hand. “Shut up.”
Kendy looked cute in her bridesmaid dress, the style complementing her petite figure. When I’d told her the bridesmaid dress would be peach, she’d almost vomited in her mouth. When I’d shown her the ugly peach dress, she cried, and when she’d tried it on, she’d nearly died.
I’d nearly died, too—of laughter.
We’d both decided that we would make them into curtains for Aunt Diane. She loved the color peach, but of course she did because that color had been in during her time.
Kendy twirled her finger, signaling me to turn, and I sighed as I cooperated.
When I pivoted to face her, her eyes were shining. “Beth Boo, you look amazing,” she squealed.
“Please, Kendy, this is not my real day. Don’t make it feel like it is,” I begged. “Okay, Miss Peach?”
We both laughed.
Tugging me toward her, she gave me the biggest Kendy hug. It was the type of hug where I couldn’t breathe because she’d wrap her arms around me to the point of suffocation.
“Okay, nothing is going to fall out there,” she said, patting my backside. “I’m just telling you the truth. You make one gorgeous bride.” She gave me one last squeeze and pinched my butt cheek. “Are you ready?” she asked. “It will be over before you know it.”
The knock on the door broke us from our embrace.
Aunt Diane peered in. “Bethany, you look darling.” The crinkle in her eyes showed her delight. “Honey, everyone is waiting on you. Come here, and let me give you some lovin’.”
I nodded, smiled and hugged Aunt Diane as asked. It was a fake smile that I knew would be plastered on my face the whole day, so I’d better get used to it.
When Aunt Diane released me, Kendy linked her arm through mine and led me through the door. “Come on, let’s go.”
I walked out to a sea of paparazzi. The flashes of light, the oohs and aahs, the tightness of my dress, and the hunger in my stomach had me seeing double. The forced smile remained on my face as the photographers started positioning me back and forth and forth and back while shooting away with their cameras. They had me posing in every direction with my flowers, without my flowers, with Kendy, without Kendy, with Aunt Diane, and with them both.
My breathing accelerated as the seconds progressed, and I wobbled when the photographer continued to position me. I heard the thumping of my racing heart in my ears, and all of a sudden, I felt a dizziness that left me unsteady. Before I knew it, I jolted to the bathroom, locked the door and dropped to the floor before I started dry-heaving over the toilet.
“Beth? Open the door, honey. Are you okay?” Kendy asked, her voice laced with anxiety as she jiggled the knob.
“Give me a minute.” I stood and gripped the sink with both hands, using it as support, as I stared at the wide-eyed girl in the mirror. Flipping on the faucet, I cupped my hands and rinsed water in my mouth.
“I just need a minute.” I patted my mouth with the white hand towel that had been hanging on the wall and slid against the wall, sitting next to the toilet. My dress pooled at the bottom of my feet, and the train trailed along the white marble tile. My eyes focused on the tile on the floor noticing the specs of cream against the white marble.
As the minutes dragged on, I ignored the knocking and the yelling outside.
I didn’t even know how long I’d been sitting there, staring at my hand and the gigantic rock on my ring finger. I didn’t think I could go through with this. The day had just begun, and given how it was going thus far, I knew I wouldn’t make it down the aisle without another round of dry-heaving or full-on panic attacks.
I ignored the violent attempts Kendy was making to get me to open the door.
“Did you hear me, Bethany Marie Casse? I’m going to break down this door. Do you understand? Open this door now!”
I even ignored her desperate pleas of concern.
“Beth Boo, are you okay? Open the door, hon. How do I know if you are okay if you don’t open the door or even talk to me?”
Even her empty threats did not break me from my trance.
“Bethany Marie Casse, damn you. I swear, I’m going to tell the world about you-know-what. You know, that tiny little secret you’re hiding. I’m going to tell them all.”
His voice was what broke me.
“Beth?” Kent’s voice was filled with concern. “Beth, open the door.” He knocked lightly. “Let me in.”
I picked up my train, opened the door, and peered at him through my lashes. He was so beautiful that I wanted to cry. It was his face that I’d wanted to see—because only he knew what I was going through, because we were the only two that were living this lie together.
When I moved to let him in, he pushed the door open and shut it behind him.
Instantly, I threw my arms around him, and almost started to cry. “I hate this,” I whispered against his neck.
His arms wrapped around my lower back. “The fact that you hate it makes me think I hate it more.”
We held each other in silence. He buried his head into the crook of my neck, taking in my scent, as his breath tickled my skin.
He spoke first, “Don’t do that again. You scared me.” He squeezed me tighter, pulling me closer against him and took a deep breath. “Kendy didn’t know why you wouldn’t answer the door. I ran here as fast as I could.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, closing my eyes. “Seriously, why are we doing this again? Because I don’t think I can pull this off.”
For once, the reassurance he had always given me about why we were doing this was not there. “It seemed like a good idea at the time,” he said. He sounded nervous, which made me feel slightly better.
Releasing me, he took a step back. His eyes slowly raked over my face and then my dress, taking me all in, which warmed me all over.
He met my eyes, unwavering. “God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered as he took hold of my hand.
I felt my cheeks flush as his look of intensity consumed me and drew me in. That pull, that electricity buzzed between us as our eyes locked, his chestnut brown to my emerald green and all I could hear was the sound of our breathing.
I pushed my boobs together, breaking the awkwardness. “Look.”
It worked as his eyes widened in amusement. “Interesting,” he said, a dimple peeking out from his cheek.
“I mean, I always knew I had them, but in this dress…yeah…interesting.”
He shook his head once, and then he pulled me into a soft embrace again. “I couldn’t do this…I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else,” he said. “Let’s eat, have fun, and get drunk, okay?”
Releasing me, he pulled something that was wrapped in a paper towel out of his pocket. “Fries? I know you haven’t eaten.”
“Oh God. Mr. Plack, I love you,” I said, snatching the paper towel out of his hand. Greasy, old fries never tasted better.
He observed me in silence, and I smiled at him as I chewed every single fry. My stomach grumbled as if it were showing gratitude for feeding it.
“I’m ready,” I said, breaking the silence after devouring the last of the fries. I wiped my greasy hands on the expensive designer dress and reached for his hand.
He took it and kissed the top of my hand “You’re truly the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen,” he said, his eyes never leaving mine.
I bet the flush on my cheeks was brighter than the pink blush I was wearing. “Let’s go.
” I pulled him toward the door.
As we exited the bathroom, the paparazzis started again, blinding me with their flashes. I turned and buried my face in Kent’s shoulder, shielding my eyes from the lights of the cameras. His arms wrapped around me in protection.
“Okay, enough pictures for the moment,” Kent commanded.
Cheering and clapping erupted, and I glanced up, noticing everyone in the room.
Mr. Plack had Mrs. Plack in an embrace. Kendy stood next to Aunt Diane. Kendy motioned at Kent’s arm wrapped around me with her eyes and an all-knowing I-know-what-happened-in-that-bathroom look even though the only thing that had happened was I’d eaten fries.
“Nervous jitters, but she’s fine now,” Kent said, breaking the applause.
One by one, they came to greet us.
“I thought you had smartened up and changed your mind,” Mr. Plack said while winking at his son.
Mrs. Plack held my hands, taking in the sight of me. Her lips slowly quivered, and she covered one hand over her mouth. As her tears threatened to overflow, she stepped in to give me the biggest bear hug. “You’re so beautiful, Beth.”
“Mother, you said you’d try to control yourself,” Kent said.
She reached up and touched his face. “I’m just happy and so very proud of you.” Her tears pooled in the corner of her eyes.
“Okay, everybody, let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!” Mary clapped her hands, catching everyone’s attention and breaking the moment. “We are already fifteen minutes behind schedule. I’m glad I allotted time for mishaps such as this.” She moved Mrs. Plack out of my arms and pushed Mr. Plack in the direction of the door. “Kent, let’s go. You’ve already broken one of the most important rules. You’ve seen the bride,” she said, a look of disgust on her face.
“No!” I gripped Kent’s hand in both of mine. Immediately, the sound of my heart beating in my ears started to accelerate again. I didn’t want to let go of my lifeline.
Mary glowered in my direction, giving me a subtle evil eye. “Honey, you’ll see him in a minute,” she blurted out.
I wanted to honey her right in the face. I shot her the evil eye right back, but mine wasn’t as subtle.
Kent coughed to cover his laugh. “Give us a few seconds, please. Everyone out.”
Mary shot me a look before turning to stomp out the door, and the rest followed.
“The best thing about this day being over is that I’ll never have to see that lady again,” I muttered. “I swear, for the amount of money your mom is paying her, she should at least be nice, right?”
Kent placed both hands on my shoulders and moved me to face him. “Forget her. I’ll meet you down the aisle, okay? Don’t worry about anyone else. I’ll be down at the end of that aisle, waiting for you.” He grabbed my chin to meet my eyes in the most intimate stare. “Okay?”
My breath caught.
I could see speckles of gold in his chestnut irises. “Fine,” I said, pivoting toward the door. “I can’t believe you stuck greasy fries in your tuxedo.”
He shook his head and laughed as he followed me out. “I can’t believe you wiped your greasy hands on your fifteen-thousand-dollar dress.”
“Canon in D” played in the background. The nervous, jittery feeling that had caused my dry-heaving over the toilet rushed back, but I tried to concentrate on my pointed Christian Louboutin shoes. Mary allowed Kendy to walk down the aisle first.
Now, I stood alone, left behind the closed doors, waiting for my cue.
Of course, I had no father to walk me down the aisle. When Mr. Plack had offered to walk me, I had been touched by his sentiment, but I’d declined. In the end, I’d wanted to walk down the aisle alone because I was the only one responsible for myself, and that was how it had been for some time.
The only person who would have had the privilege to walk me down the aisle was Nana, but even if she were alive, she wouldn’t have shown up here today. She had always been proud of me, but I was sure that today would have been the first time she’d be disappointed. The thought of disappointing my Nana had the first tear falling down my face.
“You’re up,” Mary said, pushing the door open. “Ready?” she asked.
I nodded once even though my insides were saying no.
Flickering candles lit the room, and peach flowers sat atop pedestals lining the aisle. Over two hundred people occupied both sides of the room, standing in front of chairs draped in white and accented with peach sashes. I felt claustrophobic as I looked at the crowd to the left and right of me. I didn’t want to faint, so I focused on my pointy shoes and concentrated on placing one foot in front of the other.
My mind drifted to Nana and how I wished she were still here. In my mind, I told her that I was sorry. I was sorry for doing this, for choosing the easy way out, for not living up to the woman she’d brought me up to be. That even if I wanted to, it was too late to back out now. I told her that I wished she were here even though she would be disappointed. I just wanted her near me. I was sad that she would never see me really walking down the aisle toward the man I would truly marry. I told her I missed her so very much. I missed her every day, every single minute.
One by one, the tears flowed down my face, and I could taste the salt on my lips. A few women in attendance, whom I didn’t know, were crying also, but the reason they thought I was crying was not the reason at all.
Finally at the altar, I saw Kent and felt comfort.
He had a look of reverence and of awe on his face, and when he pulled my veil over my head, his brow furrowed with concern. He cradled my face in his hands and wiped the tears under my eyes with his thumbs, forgetting about the people around us. My eyes drifted to the crowd and I placed my hands on top of his and pulled them down, tugging him to face forward toward the officiant.
As the officiant started to speak, Kent turned in my direction.
Why are you crying? he mouthed silently.
“Later,” I whispered, facing forward.
I didn’t hear a thing the officiant was saying. It was as if someone had pressed the mute button and the whole time, all I heard was mumbling. I wasn’t paying attention, and when it was time to repeat my vows, I missed my cue—twice. Kent had to squeeze my hands to break me from my trance.
When the officiant said, “You may kiss the bride,” I knew the worst was over. It was done.
As Kent leaned in for a kiss, I wrapped my arms around him, and his eyes widened in surprise right before I kissed him full on the lips. He smiled as I did it. It wasn’t a kiss of passion. It was a kiss of celebration. It was a kiss that was thankful because this whole ceremony and hoopla was almost over. Now, I could dance and get crazy drunk.
The applause roared to a deafening volume, and Kent had to be the one to disentangle me from his arms. His dimple emerged as he looked at me and linked my arm through his before we walked down the aisle. At the end of the aisle, chaos erupted. Everyone was hugging him and hugging me, congratulating us, but I didn’t know a single soul.
Kent pulled me close. “Let’s get drunk,” he whispered in my ear, sending tingles down my spine.
“Let’s,” I agreed, smiling along with him.
We went straight to the bar and bypassed the line as we rocked the we-just-got-married card. The first shot we took was Crown. Having nothing in my stomach, except for old fries, I already knew this was going to be a short night. Kent shook his head after taking the shot, and when I raised my hand for another, he grabbed it and entwined it with his. With my free hand, I reached for the cranberry and vodka beside me.
“You have to pace yourself. I want our first dance before you pass out on me.” He led us to the sweetheart table where we sat while staff in white jackets served us dinner.
“Do you even know half these people?” I asked, taking everything in.
“No, they’re all business associates of Dad,” he said, scanning the room of two hundred.
Tall, extravagant candelabras overflowing with white cymbidiu
m orchids sat atop circular tables draped with peach linen and lined with bone china plates rimmed with gold. I watched as people mingled among the tables with their drinks in hand.
I lifted my glass of cranberry and vodka to my lips as Kent observed me. “I’m glad you don’t know any of these people. Just a fair warning, I might embarrass you,” I said.
He looked upon the crowd and shrugged. “Don’t worry, these are Mom and Dad’s friends.”
I inwardly cringed, glanced at my glass, and contemplated if I should sip instead of gulp my drink down. “I don’t want to embarrass them either.”
Kent nudged me and pointed to the outer rim of the dance floor. “Look at her. She’s having a good time. I doubt she’ll even remember what happened in the morning.” He chuckled.
Mrs. Plack was animated as she used one hand to tell a story to a crowd of older women while the other held a glass of liquor. Kent and I cast each other a look, and we both laughed.
“Funny how the last time I saw her like this was five years ago at our Christmas party,” he said before lifting the wine glass to his lips.
One by one, colleagues of Kent’s father approached our table to congratulate Kent and meet me. I smiled at each introduction, feeling my ears warm from the liquor.
The food had come and gone, and I made sure the drinks kept on coming. Kent smiled and nodded as he pretended to be interested in people he hardly knew. It was a large contrast to the Kent I’d first met, who would have had no problem blatantly telling them he wasn’t interested in conversation.
I giggled at him trying so hard.
When he moved to face me, his smile turned genuine. “What?”
“Nothing.” I giggled again.
“Mrs. Plack, you are drunk, or at the very least, you’re getting there.”
“I am not drunk,” I said, blinking and smiling like a crazy person. I could feel my whole body warm, and I had to admit the liquor was making me feel pretty good.
I swayed to the sweet melodies played by the twelve-piece band as the woman singing at the microphone enthralled me, pulling me in with her sultry tones. When she announced it was time for speeches, I guzzled the cranberry and vodka in one gulp.