Always the Bridesmaid

by Whitney Lyles

  “Well hello! How’s my trooper?” her dad asked as she entered the kitchen.

  “All right. I guess.”

  Her mother threw her arm over her shoulder. “Why don’t you go lie down?”

  “There’s a bull riding championship on in five minutes,” her dad said.

  Bull riding. It was a guilty pleasure. Her father, a legal prosecutor and graduate of Harvard Law School, was the last person anyone would’ve ever expected to watch bull riding. Cate and her father both loved it. The excitement. The clowns. The funny announcer with the silly-sounding drawl.

  “I bought you some cat food and groceries,” her mother said. “I know you’ve been too sick to run errands.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  “You’re welcome. Now go lie down.”

  Cate made herself comfortable on the couch. She threw a quilt over her body and curled up on the cream-colored cushions. She wondered if Ethan liked bull riding. Probably. She’d been doing this a lot lately, thinking about his opinions. What he would think about the clothes she chose to wear every day or the scent of her new lotion.

  They ate their soup and cornbread on TV trays.

  “Why don’t you just sleep here tonight?” her mother suggested as she cleared the dishes.

  “Okay.”

  It had been a long time since Cate had slept in her old bedroom.

  “I found some old pictures of yours when I was cleaning out the closet in your room last week,” her mother said. “I put them on your bed.”

  Her mother had spent the past three months weeding out all of Cate’s old possessions and redecorating the room into a guest bedroom.

  Cate found the pictures on her pillow. She flipped through them. There were prom pictures of her and Beth with their dates. She couldn’t believe that they actually thought they looked good back then. Cate wore a teal-green gown made from spongy, elastic material that clung to her like a gigantic scrunchy. Beth sported a magenta silk dress with black faux fur trim around the hem and sleeves.

  She found a candid picture of her and Ethan at graduation. Who had taken the picture? It must’ve been Beth. In the picture Cate was talking to someone. Ethan’s gaze was settled on her. He looked content. His skin appeared softer, but he still had the same round, sincere eyes. They’d kissed for the first time that night in Beth’s Jacuzzi. She studied the photo for a while. Again, her stomach felt warm. She shoved it back into the stack and placed the whole pile on the nightstand. She wondered what he was doing. Probably kicking up his heels in Pacific Beach with the petite blonde who undoubtedly appreciated him. The chilly October air had seeped into her room. She slept with socks and an extra blanket, but no matter how hard she tried to warm up, she still felt cold. She woke up once every hour for eight hours to tighten the blankets around her body.

  When she returned to her apartment the following morning, she was not only tired but disappointed to find that she had no messages. She scanned through the Caller ID just to see if she had any friends left. Ethan Blakely, three-forty A.M. He had left no message.

  30 • The Best of It

  Rain dumped over San Diego on Halloween. Despite the early fall storm, trick-or-treaters were still in full force throughout the neighborhood. It seemed as if they had all resorted to apartment complexes as their primary resource for candy.

  Jill and Cate had turned Jill’s place into their prewedding headquarters. This was because Jill had all the hair and makeup supplies they needed to get ready.

  Earlier that morning, Jill had talked Cate into adding some platinum highlights to her hair, “just to make it look a little more Marilyn.” Cate had been feeling careless lately, and she didn’t care what the hell Jill did to her hair. She could’ve shaved lightning bolts on either side of her scalp and it wouldn’t have mattered.

  When Jill finished, Cate was glad she had agreed to proceed with the highlights. Marilyn or not, they looked good.

  They took turns answering the doorbell every time a trick-or-treater visited, trying not to eat all the Snickers and Milky Ways they had bought for the kids while they helped each other with their makeup. Jill was going as the bride of Frankenstein, so she put their hair in rollers. While they waited for the rollers to set, they watched Halloween on television and drank a bottle of Pinot Grigio.

  Cate absentmindedly munched on her fifth mini- candy bar while staring blankly at the screen.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Jill asked.

  Cate snapped out of her daze. She knew she’d been zoning out a lot. It was partly because of the wine and partly because she had a lot on her mind. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean . . . you’ve seemed out of it all day. Like something is wrong.”

  She waited before answering. “I miss Ethan. There. I said it. I really, really miss him. I can’t help it.” She looked at her dress, hanging on Jill’s bedroom door. “We picked out that dress together, and now he won’t see what I look like. I think about him all the time.”

  “Call him. Call him now.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “I can’t. He’ll think I’m crazy. I hurt his feelings, and now I can’t just call him out of the blue.”

  “I bet he’d love to hear from you.” Jill handed her the phone. “Just tell him you want him to see the costume.” She pushed the phone at Cate. “Call him, Catherine Agnes Padgett.”

  “He’ll think I’m a bitch.”

  “Call him.”

  Cate stood up to answer the doorbell, taking the bowl of candy with her. She gave Harry Potter and Pocahontas a good portion of chocolate before she returned to the couch.

  “You know what?” she said as she sat down. “I’ve been thinking anyway. They’re all nice in the beginning. All men. And then they change. Once they get comfortable, they start wanting guys’ night five nights a week, and they take calling for granted, and they don’t want to cook dinner for you anymore. They forget to compliment you, and they never really ask how you’re doing. They all change.” She poured more wine in their glasses. “Why should Ethan be different from the others? Eventually he’ll change, too. He likes me now because I am the mysterious, intangible Cate Padgett. But as soon as I’m the girlfriend, and he sees me without makeup and he knows that I wake up at least once a night to pee, the mystery will be over. He’ll take me for granted and freak out whenever the ‘M’ word comes up. He’ll call whenever he feels like it, and he won’t care about how my day went. He’ll lose interest in my candid photos, and getting him to hang out with my friends will be like asking him to spend time with imprisoned murderers on visitors’ day. And then . . . I will be madly in love with him. Obsessed. It’s human nature.”

  “I hear what you’re saying, Cate. Yeah, a lot of guys change. And a lot of people love the chase. It is human nature. It’s human nature to weed out the ones you’re not supposed to be with. There is no chase when it’s meant to be.” She stood up. It was her turn to answer the door. She looked at Cate, candy bowl in hand. Then she shook her head. “All this time.” She continued to shake her head. “All your excuses. I thought you were really afraid of ruining a friendship. You’re just afraid of getting hurt.” She headed for the door.

  When she returned, she plucked her wineglass from the table. “C’mon, we have to go finish our hair.”

  “What should I do, Jill?” Cate asked as she followed her to the bathroom.

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. You’re the only one who can stop being afraid. You’re on your own with this one.”

  Their costumes turned out amazing. Cate had purchased a water bra and had done some additional stuffing with socks in the chest department. Her hair had turned out exactly like Marilyn’s. Jill had applied her black eye makeup and glossy lipstick exactly the way Marilyn would’ve worn it. She felt sexy, and she knew she looked good.

  Jill’s jet-black hair was bigger and frizzier than Cate’s had been at Leslie’s wedding. She wore a draping white gown and had shaded her eyes with kohl-colored shadow. She drov
e them to the Hotel Del Coronado.

  The hotel was a nineteenth-century castle on the beach. It was an old hotel, built when women still wore bustles and carried parasols. While beautiful, it had a touch of gothic appeal to it. There were stories of ghosts and hauntings in at least two of the rooms.

  The sky was dark, and gloomy clouds passed over the yellow moon above. The rain had ceased, but she could still hear the sound of dripping water falling from the eaves and pillars around the hotel.

  Beth wouldn’t get the outdoor wedding that she had hoped for. Yesterday at the rehearsal, everything had been planned for an outdoor candlelit wedding, complete with the sound of the waves crashing behind them. The hotel wedding coordinator had warned them of rain, and as a backup plan they were going to hold the ceremony in the ballroom. Beth had to be disappointed with Plan B.

  As instructed, they headed to Beth’s room in the older building. As they approached, Cate could hear Beth’s father ranting from the opposite side of the door. “I still can’t believe we’re dressing up for my daughter’s wedding.” He said it as if complaining about the price of gasoline.

  “Oh, Daddy,” Beth said. “It’s fun. You look great, and you’re going to love looking at the pictures later.”

  With the mention of pictures, Cate realized she’d left her camera in the car. She decided to say hi to Beth and the others first, then return to the car for her camera. She was eager to see their costumes.

  “I feel like we’re the white trash family,” her father grumbled.

  Cate could hear the other bridesmaids as well as Beth laughing.

  “Stop it, Frank,” Beth’s mother said with a chuckle in her voice. “We haven’t dressed up in years. It’s fun.”

  “Vavavoom!” Anthony yelled when Jill and Cate entered. “Cate, you could stop a train! You look stunning.”

  He was dressed as a gangster, even wearing tinted shades like Al Capone.

  “Wow! You guys look great,” Beth said.

  Beth was dressed as a Shakespearean type of bride in an ivory dress with flaring sleeves. Her hair was left down, and she wore a flowered crown. She looked like a princess from medieval times.

  Cate could understand why Beth’s father might be uncomfortable dressed as a giant yellow dinosaur. His chubby cheeks were smooshed between the small face opening in the felt costume, and he probably wouldn’t be able to sit down with the massive spiked tail that trailed behind him. He belonged in a theme park. Five-year-olds would’ve been enamored of him.

  Beth’s sister was dressed as a roller-blading waitress, and her mother was dressed as a Southern belle, wearing a giant hoop skirt and straw hat.

  They all exchanged compliments on one another’s costumes. Beth didn’t seem to be the least bit nervous. She sat calmly in the corner, admiring everyone’s outfits. Cate put her arm around her friend’s shoulders. “How are you? You seem so calm.”

  “I’m great. I am getting married.” She practically glowed.

  “So I guess we’re going to be in the ballroom,” Cate said.

  Beth nodded. “Yeah. I don’t care though. Ike sent me two dozen roses this morning with a note attached saying, ‘I can’t wait to start our life together.’ ” She released a pleasant sigh and squeezed Cate’s hand. “I’m so happy, Cate.”

  Cate wanted pictures of everyone. “Do I have time to run to the car for my camera?”

  “Yeah. We still have half an hour before we have to be down in the ballroom.”

  “All right. I’ll be right back.”

  The air was freezing on her bare shoulders when she left the hotel. She stepped over a few puddles as she headed to the car. As she crossed the main driveway to the hotel, she circled a giant puddle of mud, careful not to let any part of her shoes become soiled. She could feel tiny droplets of drizzle dotting her nose and shoulders and hurried to the car. She found her camera and made sure she locked the doors before heading back to the hotel. She tried to run in her heels, afraid that it would start to pour rain at any moment.

  She was two steps from circling around the puddle and crossing the driveway when the headlights of a giant van blinded her. She paused, allowing the van to go first. It was dark, and the driver might not be able to see her. The airport shuttle circled around the bend so fast that its front tire dove into the puddle. A giant spray of muddy water splashed over the side of the curb, as if a whale had landed in a swimming pool. Cate tried to jump back, but it had all happened too quickly. Dirty, frigid water covered her from head to toe. It slithered down her face, dripping down her neck, saturating her dress and sliding down her arms like cold goop. A horrified scream roared from her throat. Over the wind, no one heard.

  She could see the shuttle driver helping clean people with their luggage. In their dry clothes they all tipped him.

  Salty tears began to mix with the grimy water. She hated this, all of it. She was tired of her worn-out life, of mud puddles, of being disappointed, of having to clean it all up on her own. She had no partner to help her. She was solo, arrived alone, left alone, and cried alone. This was her world.

  And the worst thing of all was that she felt consumed with regret. She had let him go. It was no freaking wonder she was lonely. She couldn’t even appreciate a good thing when it came along. She’d been too busy worrying about Paul, or waiting for a fantasy man to emerge from the darkness and fill her world with light to notice that Ethan was right in front of her face. Not only was she going to be alone, but she was also going to have to live with her mistakes.

  She was starting to freeze to death and decided that hypothermia combined with self-pity was a bad mix.

  The most embarrassing moment of her life: walking through the most elegant hotel in San Diego looking as if she’d just been to Wood-stock.

  She tried to hold back her tears as she headed to the ladies’ room. A crying frenzy was on the verge of erupting. She wanted to walk to the front desk, check into a hotel room, scrub herself from head to toe in scalding hot water, wrap herself in warm blankets, and fall asleep forever. However, hotel security would probably mistake her for a bag lady and phone the police. She was sobbing now. She wanted to go upstairs and tell Beth, “No more. I need to go home. I need to curl up and not exist.”

  People had begun to stare. She could hear the whispers: “The crying girl covered in mud.”

  Go to hell, she wanted to growl.

  She couldn’t go upstairs like this. Beth had been so relaxed. Cate entering and looking as if she’d just been hosed with shit might put a damper on things. She stumbled into the ladies’ room.

  Get a grip. Get a freaking grip, Cate. Pull it together. It’s your best friend’s wedding. It starts in fifteen minutes, and you are a disaster. You have been in worse situations. Now put your bad bitch cap on, and get it together!

  One glimpse in the mirror, and she felt on the verge of the kind of breakdown that could take her away from the hotel in a straitjacket. She honestly didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. The dress was ruined. There was no way she could walk down the aisle looking like Marilyn Monroe who had just fallen down a mountain. Luckily, her hair hadn’t gotten wet. If she really improvised, she could clean herself in the ladies’ room, using towels and hand soap.

  Then she began to laugh. The absurdity of it all. The wedding on Halloween, her luck of ruining her costume before it even started. It was kind of funny.

  She cleaned her face first, washing it thoroughly with hand soap and warm water. It killed her to wipe away all the makeup that Jill had worked so hard to apply. When she lifted her head, a little river of black mascara washed down the drain. She scrubbed her body from neck to toe with hand towels and soap. She could still feel damp water beneath the bodice of her dress, but there wasn’t a thing she could do about her wet chest until she changed clothes. And what exactly was she going to change into?

  Her eyes darted around the bathroom, searching for nothing in particular—only ideas. She looked at the pile of towels she had used, so many that
they couldn’t even fit in the trash can. She decided to head back up to the room. Maybe someone would have an extra something that she could borrow. She felt guilty leaving all the towels on the counter, but she was in a hurry. On the way out, she noticed a cleaning cart outside the men’s room. A maid was pulling a bucket from it.

  “Excuse me,” Cate said. “Do you have any extra trash bags?”

  She nodded as she pulled a roll of thick white trash bags from the cart. “How many you need?”

  “One, please.”

  Then she thought of something. It was a stretch, but she was desperate. It was the kind of thing that people would either find terribly tasteless or absolutely clever.

  “Actually, could you please make that two?” Cate said.

  She realized that time was getting short. Upstairs, they were probably beginning to worry about her. She walked to a hotel courtesy phone and dialed Beth’s room.

  “Cate!” Beth answered the phone “Where are you? We’ve been wondering what happened to you. In fact, Jill just went down to look for you.”

  “Well, it’s kind of crazy, but my whole costume was ruined.”

  “What? What happened? Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.” She told Beth what happened.

  “Oh my God. You are kidding?”

  “I’m not. But I’m fine, and I’ll be up in a minute. I have a new costume. It’s a scrounge, but I think it will do.”

  She locked herself in a bathroom stall, removed her dress, and washed her chest with a damp soapy towel. Then she pulled open a small hole in the bottom of the extra trash bag. She carefully tore two small holes on either side of the bag for her arms. She slipped it over her head. Her new costume: a trash bag and heels. It wasn’t something Marilyn would wear, but it would suffice. She threw her dress in the other white plastic bag with the towels.

  As she approached the room, she thought it felt nice not to have her chest stuffed with socks. There was a light, airy feeling beneath the bag, and she wished trash bags were in style. She could hear Beth’s father’s voice booming from the hall again.