Always the Bridesmaid
Page 8
When she returned to Saint Mary’s, the funeral was still in progress. She glanced at her watch. It had been over an hour. There were probably nuns that were less religious than her mother.
Cate often felt that her mother was disappointed with the way she had turned out. The only thing she had in common with her mother was the color of their hair. Cate had inherited her father’s square nose, chiseled jawline, and hair that turned curly and unruly in certain temperatures. It was Cate’s sister who had come from the Connie cookie cutter. Emily had grown up hearing, “You look exactly like your mother!” They shared the same cute nose that turned up like little jewels between their rosy cheeks. Their fine blonde hair was the kind that remained soft and straight, even in the most severe weather conditions.
Cate had always figured that her mother would’ve been smitten if Cate had been more like Emily. While Cate threatened to run away if forced to attend private Catholic schools, her sister had willingly filled out her applications to Saint Michael’s and Our Lady of Peace. Even though they were two years apart, the girls grew up with a distance between them. Emily at Our Lady of Peace and Cate at La Jolla High. They couldn’t complain about the same teachers or gossip about boys they thought were cute.
Emily had actually looked forward to attending catechism classes, and going to Mass was like going to an Oscar-nominated movie every week. She’d been actively involved in organizing the youth retreats for the teenagers that were nearing confirmation, while Cate had been actively involved in getting the other kids to form a coup d’état at youth retreats.
Then Emily had attended Thomas Aquinas College, a university that Cate thought was closely related to a convent. Cate remembered the way her mother had glowed with pride when they moved Emily into the dorms at TAC.
“Cate, how would you like to go to school here?” her mother had asked.
No alcohol. A dress code. Nuns as teachers. It sounded like Hell.
It wasn’t that Cate didn’t believe in God. She just didn’t see things the way her mother and sister did. She didn’t believe she was going to Hell for missing Mass or that confessing to a priest that, yes, she was indeed human, and yes, she made mistakes was going to assure her a seat in Heaven.
She believed it was the kindness people showed one another that was more powerful than all the rituals and codes her mother and sister were drawn to. She suspected her father felt the same way but never said a word, going along with his wife’s religious convictions for fear that he, too, might end up losing his cassette tapes.
Cate’s thoughts were interrupted when her mother appeared in the passenger side window.
“So how was it?” Cate asked as Connie slid into the car.
“Fine.”
“Who was it?”
“It was Henry Fordson. I never really knew him, but I knew who he was. He was very active in the parish.”
“How did he die?”
“Cancer.” She reached for some Chap Stick in her purse. Two things that Cate could always count on her mother having: lip balm and Kleenex. “Oh, you’ll never believe who I just saw,” she said before rubbing Chap Stick across her lips.
“Ethan Blakely?”
“Yes! You saw him, too?” She smacked her lips together.
“Yes, I saw him on the way to the car, and I ran into him at Sarah’s wedding a couple of weeks ago.”
“He was always such a nice kid. Poor thing—being raised by those parents.” She put her lip balm back in her purse. “They practically neglected him. And I think they were atheists, too.”
“Atheists? Why do you say that?”
“I don’t know. They just seemed like it.”
Ethan’s parents were both doctors and worked odd hours. Cate and Ethan had viewed Connie’s notion of neglect as the best thing that could’ve ever happened to Treemont Drive. Ethan’s house used to be the epicenter of experimentation. Pot. Cigarettes. Chewing tobacco. Driving without a license.
Ethan had an older brother who was supposed to be watching him, but the reality of it was that Chuck had a fake ID and used to buy them beer and cigarettes whenever they wanted.
Acqua was busy for a Friday afternoon. Cate hoped they would be seated on the upper patio. The two-story restaurant was nestled atop the steep cliffs that overlooked the La Jolla shores. It was a nice restaurant but also comfortable. If Cate came with Paul, they would get dressed up and order a bottle of wine. With Connie she could wear jeans and eat salmon and bacon sandwiches. Besides the good food, the view of the ocean was superb. Cate and Connie were pleased when they managed to score a table on the upper patio.
“Ethan wants me to take some pictures for his business,” Cate said after they were seated.
“Oh, well that will be neat. Is he going to pay you?”
“I think so.”
“Maybe he has some nice friends that he can introduce you to.”
“I have a boyfriend—Paul.”
“I know, but do you have a ring on your finger?” Her mother set her menu aside. She dipped a piece of bread in the complimentary hummus.
“Why don’t you like Paul?”
“It’s not that I don’t like Paul. I just think that you’re getting to an age where you should really start thinking about settling down. You know, the main reason your father and I sent you and your sister to college was so that you could find a husband.”
Cate nearly dropped her bread on the ground. “What? You sent me to college so I could find a husband?”
“Well, yeah.” She said it as if she were stating the obvious.
Cate wanted to scream but felt a presence at the table. “Are you guys ready to order?” the waiter asked in a chipper tone.
Cate hoped that the mortification she felt hadn’t been directed toward the waiter when she peered up at him. She tried to clear the grimace from her face while her mother ordered a chicken sandwich.
“I’ll have the salmon sandwich,” Cate said. “And can you bring me a gin martini—large. Thanks.”
“You’re having a drink?” Her mother asked disgustedly before the waiter had left.
“Yes. I need a drink.”
When Cate returned home, she listened to her messages. “Catearita! I’m just calling from Boston to say hi. I hope everything is going well. Oh . . . uh, by the way . . . I won’t be able to make it to the rehearsal dinner on Friday night, but I’ll be at the wedding. Talk to you later. Adios.”
Irritation burned her nerves. She had already RSVPed for him.
7 • Rock Off
“Where’s Paul?” Val asked, loud enough for the valet parkers outside Bernini’s to hear. “I thought you said Paul was coming.”
No one had seemed to notice his absence at the rehearsal, but now at the restaurant it was headline news.
Cate’s mother chimed in. “You didn’t tell them he wasn’t coming? I thought you were going to call Jim’s parents and cancel for him.”
Everyone was watching. Her father, her sister Emily, brother-in-law Bradley, Val’s fiancé, and five people she had never seen in her life all waited for an explanation.
“I did call. I talked to Jim’s mom and explained that he was tied up in Boston and wouldn’t be able to make it tonight.”
“Well, is he coming to the wedding?” Val asked.
“Yes. He’ll definitely be here tomorrow.”
Val pulled Cate aside. “I’m so stressed right now,” she whispered. “The bridesmaids’ gifts came today, and they didn’t turn out right.”
“Is there anything I can do?” Cate asked.
“No.”
“Hey, I’m so sorry about Paul. I hope it wasn’t too much of an inconvenience.”
“Of course not. Besides, we found out that Uncle Jack is bringing all four of his kids tonight, so we needed the extra space.”
“I haven’t seen him since his last divorce,” Cate said.
“Can you believe that idiot cheated again?”
Cate was about to throw in her two cents on Un
cle Jack’s notorious infidelity, when Val squeezed her arm hard enough to break blood vessels. “Oh! Loni and Nikki just got here. I have to go say hi!” She bopped off.
A waiter came by with a tray. “May I offer you some bruschetta?” he asked.
“Thank you.” She was reaching for a bruschetta when she heard a familiar voice over her shoulder.
“Well there she is!” Grandpa shouted before he released a raspy smoker’s cough.
“Gran and Grandpa!”
She abandoned the bruschetta to hug them.
“It’s good to see you, doll,” Grandma said. “All you girls are just looking so great. How do you keep your figure so thin, sweetie?”
“You know me. I’m such a stress case. I’m always losing my appetite.”
Her grandmother kissed her on the cheek. “What’s to worry about when you’re young and beautiful and free? Enjoy it while you can, doll.”
Cate noticed they were the only people who hadn’t asked where Paul was. She loved them.
“So what have you been up to this summer?” Grandpa asked.
“I’ve been—”
They were interrupted by the loudest screech from a child Cate had ever heard in her kindergarten teaching life. Uncle Jack had arrived. Four squealing kids, all under the age of ten, followed him. He wore a look of desperation and seemed eager to pawn the kids off on Gran.
Cate noticed sweat dripping down his temple when she leaned in to hug him.
“Where’s the bar?” he asked. Cate pointed over her shoulder. He was gone as quickly as he had come.
The youngest child, Madison, looked uncertain about whether she should follow her daddy or not. She clutched her Barbie doll and watched as her father headed for the bar. Cate noticed that her white sandals were on the wrong feet.
“Did you put your shoes on all by yourself, sweetie?” she asked.
Madison nodded, her big four-year-old eyes peering up at Cate.
“You did a good job buckling them. Why don’t we try it again? Let’s switch them around this time.”
“Your shoes are on the wrong feet!” Travis, a cocky seven-year-old, shouted before he shot Madison square in the forehead with his shrieking toy gun.
Cate helped her switch the shoes. Then the little girl grabbed Cate’s left hand and held on to it. She stayed by Cate’s side while she sampled the bruschetta.
Cate looked down at her cousin. “Do you want something to drink, sweetie?”
She nodded.
“Apple juice?”
“Yes.”
Cate was ordering an apple juice at the bar when she felt a hard stick ram into her right butt cheek. A blaring screech followed. She turned around in time to watch Travis, the little shit, run off, brandishing his toy weapon in the air. Within seconds he had chosen Val as his next victim, ramming his gun into her butt cheek, mocking the sound of a gunshot with his lips. Cate watched as Val jumped, startled, spilling her cocktail on her Via Spiga pump.
Cate looked around for Uncle Jack. Someone needed to control his pack of future convicts. He was already mingling with Val’s sorority friends.
Fortunately, the butt-ramming spree was cut short when a waiter asked everyone to be seated.
It was assigned seating. Cate found her place at a table shared by her sister Emily and her husband Bradley. Two other couples joined their table. She was starting to miss Paul. Besides feeling strikingly single, she wanted him to be a part of family events. Paul was an important aspect of her life. Things felt incomplete when he couldn’t share special occasions with her or meet her relatives.
She looked at the place card to her right. Joanna. She was the only bridesmaid who hadn’t been in Vegas. Cate was glad there was another single person at her table. “Hi Joanna. I’m Cate.” She extended her hand to the fellow bridesmaid.
“Hi. It’s Jo-awn-a.” She was a tiny girl with a large head and big, almond-shaped eyes that resembled those of a space creature.
“Oh. I’m sorry, Joawna. Well it’s nice to meet you.”
“You, too,” she said before turning to the couple seated on her right, leaving Cate with a view of her neatly trimmed black bob.
Cate spent most of her meal leaning back, avoiding Joanna’s arm. Her skinny forearm continuously shot over Cate’s plate, showing off the four-carat diamond on her hand for everyone at the table. Cate imagined the stone becoming dislodged and falling into her pumpkin bisque soup.
“I wish you guys could’ve all met Cody,” she said as her arm flew past Cate’s face. The stone could’ve taken out an eye if it accidentally swiped her. “He has food poisoning and couldn’t make it.”
Cate turned to her. “So how long have you been engaged?”
“Eight months.” She pulled her pink shawl around her shoulders. “I should go call Cody and see how he is doing.” When she stood, Cate noticed that she wore open-toed heels that looked a size too large. Or maybe her toes were just hanging over the edge. There was a good inch of empty space at the heels.
The other three couples at the table began to reminisce about their weddings. Bored, Cate tuned out. Her eyes wandered over the room. Gran was trying to settle a screaming Madison. The other three kids were chasing one another around the table. Uncle Jack was engaged in conversation with Loni, who wasn’t even supposed to be at his table, a Bud Light held loosely in his left hand. Her mother was in some kind of moral debate with family friends. Cate could tell by the way her eyebrows were puckered in disgust. Her father was leaning back, probably not listening to a word.
“I’ll tell you exactly what is wrong with this generation,” Connie said with conviction, slapping her palm against the table like a gavel. “What ruined this generation . . .” Her audience waited, including Cate. “Was the invention of the birth control pill. Before the birth control pill, people waited to have sex until they got married. Now men get sex whenever they want it, and there is no reason to get married. I know this because one of my own daughters is still wrapped up in that singles life.”
What! Cate wasn’t even on the pill. She and Paul used condoms, rather obsessively actually. And hadn’t birth control been around for decades? What the hell was Connie talking about? She couldn’t hear what the other people at the table had to say about Connie’s theory and decided this was probably a good thing.
After Joanna returned, Val approached their table. She held two neatly wrapped packages. She handed one to each bridesmaid. “These are my gifts to you for being in my wedding.”
“Thanks,” Cate said. She had gotten a little silver mirror with her initials engraved on it when she was in Sarah’s wedding. She wondered what Val had picked.
Val leaned close to Cate. “Yours got a little screwed up. I just wanted you to see what it was, but we can return it and have it fixed.”
Cate ripped the wrapping paper open. Inside the white box was a little silver mirror with her initials. Uh . . . no. Not her initials engraved on it. Instead of CAP, for Catherine Agnes Padgett, it read CAT.
“Thanks, Val. Don’t worry about it. I kind of like the cat engraving. It’s just like my name except it’s missing the e.”
Val patted Cate on the back. “You’re such a good sport.”
Joanna gushed all over Val, thanking her for the mirror and telling her how honored she was to be a part of the wedding.
After Val left, Emily asked Joanna how her boyfriend had proposed.
Joanna became alive with animation. “It was the cutest thing ever! Cody is just so creative.” She pressed her left palm against her chest.
“He took me to dinner at our favorite restaurant. I could tell something was up because he kept acting so nervous.” Cate noticed that she used her left hand to make all kinds of wild gestures while she spoke. Any opportunity she had to wave her ring around was not wasted. “He got up to use the rest room at least three times. He is lactose intolerant and always has indigestion, so I thought maybe that was it, but then I noticed he was sweating, and I just knew he was going to
do something special.” She had a horrific overbite. “Anyway, we finished eating and nothing had happened, so I began to think that maybe I was wrong.” She let out a hoot and her teeth hung grotesquely over her bottom lip. “Then he kept insisting that I order dessert. I don’t really like sweets, but finally, I gave in and ordered. When the waiter brought out the plate, the ring was sitting next to the crème brûlée. He got down on one knee and everything.”
Emily cocked her head to the left. “Ohhhhhh that is just the sweetest thing,” she cooed.
“That’s really neat,” Bradley said.
“He hired photographers to take pictures while he was proposing,” Joanna said. “I have them with me. Do you guys want to see?”
She passed the photos around the table, and Cate listened while everyone commented on how good-looking and creative Cody was. Cate wanted to mention that she had seen the same exact method of proposal on at least two episodes of A Wedding Story, but decided against it.
When the pictures came to Cate, she noticed that Joanna was wearing the same large shoes. How weird. She could even see her long middle toe dangling over the edge of one sandal.
Cate was ready to mingle with other people. She listened to a few more minutes of Joanna ranting and raving about what a catch Cody was before she excused herself. Many of the other guests had left their tables and had begun to mingle as well.
She noticed her father ordering a drink at the bar and decided to join him. “Hey, sport,” he said as he put his arm around Cate’s shoulders. “Are you having fun?”
“Yeah, I guess. You know . . . it’s kind of exhausting . . . all this.”
He squeezed her shoulders tighter. “I’m real proud of you. You’re a good girl, peanut. I’m glad you’re not rushing into marriage. You have all the time in the world to find the right guy.”
“Thanks, Dad,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder. Her father always made her feel comfortable. He’d always been the one she’d consulted with when making tough career or financial decisions. He was an attorney, and lots of people appreciated his steady advice and wisdom. So, it wasn’t long before they were interrupted by a distant cousin seeking legal expertise on a traffic collision.