by Brooke Moss
We didn’t stop running until we were a few blocks down the pier. Tears mixed with lemon juice ran down my face, and we sat down on a cement bus bench.
“My mom would be so ashamed.” Gabe laughed. “She would threaten never to take us again.”
“Nora always said we didn’t deserve to go back to that place. I think she was right.” I wiped my cheeks with a napkin, then handed it to him.
He took it and began swiping at the streaks of ketchup on his jeans. “Thanks.”
I ate some fries, looking over my shoulder a few times to make sure the manager of the shack hadn’t chased us down the pier. There was something about behaving like an adolescent that made me forget everything. I looked over at Gabe’s chiseled profile, and was reminded how drunk I felt whenever I was with him.
Without thinking about it, I sighed contentedly and rested my head on Gabe’s shoulder. “I miss this.”
He gazed down at me. “Miss what?”
Looking up into his light eyes, I shrugged. “Us.”
Gabe rested his chin on the top of my head, and I could hear his heart pumping. Or maybe it was mine, I’m not sure.
“Me, too,” he whispered.
Though I knew we both had significant others waiting for us back at home, I couldn’t help but think that there was nowhere else in the world I wanted to be. Sitting there, with my head on his shoulder, his mouth breathing warm air over my hair, was as close to heaven as I could get.
But I would be lying if I didn’t admit that Gabe’s wedding date and my jambalaya dinner with Landon were hanging over my head like a cloud full of Seattle rain.
Chapter Eight
September 27, 2003
I saw him in the hall today, and I nearly passed out. I had no idea he was so volatile. I just thought he was mean. I’ll never understand why Gabe is friends with such a Neanderthal. I only wanted to get back at him for the years of the “Muffin Top Murphy” taunts. I wanted to humiliate him. I never expected that he would do what he did…
There was something really wrong with this scenario.
It was Valentine’s Day, and instead of spending it with my gorgeous new boyfriend, I was getting ready for a brunch with Bulimia Betty and her troop of bridesmaids.
I let Kim give me a mud facial—her specialty—then spent twice as long fixing my hair than usual. Since I was now part of the lineup for my ultra-preppy best friend’s wedding, I’d very begrudgingly decided to remove all of my multi-colored extensions. I allowed Kim to cut my hair into a more respectable shoulder-length bob under the close supervision of Lizzy, who was the master of changing one’s look. Now I was sporting a medium-blond color that was almost the exact shade of my natural hair.
“You look gorgeous,” Betsy said as I emerged from the bathroom.
It was the morning of brunch, and I was wearing black-and-fuchsia plaid pants, a black blouse, and a hot-pink beret pulled over my hair, which I’d teased into a Gidget-style flip. I glanced down at my clothes. “Ugh. I hope so. I had no idea what to wear.”
“You look like you’re going to play golf,” Kim said, coming around the corner with a steaming mug of coffee in hand.
“I do?” Gulping, I started to unbutton the blouse. “What else should I wear? This is the most conservative thing I could find.”
“No, don’t change.” She waved a hand casually. “The golf getup is good. Rich people love golf.”
I fingered the chunky plastic bracelets around my wrist. “I don’t know…”
I wish I’d told Gabe no when he asked me to go to this brunch. Damn him and his “do it for me” method of manipulation. Apparently Alicia Von Longorial’s father owned a bunch of the facilities that the City of Portland used to house trucks and equipment, her mother owned a specialty shop downtown, and they’d lived in a big house in a wealthy suburb. She’d come from money, and from the few friends I’d seen already, so did most of her bridesmaids. I was definitely going to stick out.
“Here, put some of this on.” Kim handed me a tube of pink lipstick.
I obeyed. “You sure it’s not too much?”
We both observed the finished product in the bathroom mirror. “No way, man. It completes the look,” she said proudly. “It’s cool.”
Betsy shuffled up in her slippers and stood on my other side. “What I wouldn’t do for those eyelashes, Violet.”
“Or the lips,” Kim lamented, taking a swig of her coffee.
I examined my face in the mirror. Had I not been wearing a pink beret and matching lipstick, I would have been staring at my mother’s face. I’d grown up watching men fall all over themselves, vying for her attention. It wasn’t until I’d lost all of my baby fat during high school that I’d discovered how much I resembled her. Hazel eyes rimmed in naturally dark lashes and plump lips that resembled a red bow.
Of course, it was that face, and the hourglass figure that accompanied it, that’d attracted the boys’ attention in high school. In the years since, I became more comfortable hiding behind funky makeup, hair, and clothes, than I was au naturale. Seattle was the type of place where you could work in a tax office sandwiched between a nerd in a three-piece suit and a girl with a six-inch mohawk, and nobody would so much as bat an eye. I was more at home in costume than I was walking around with Leandra Cohen’s perfect face and golden hair.
I snapped the lid back onto the lipstick and turned away from their stares. “If you want to ogle someone, call my mom. She loves that crap.”
Kim snorted into her coffee. “Yeah, she does. The last time she was over, she asked me four times if I liked her new hairdo.”
I pulled my coat on, glad that the focus was off me once again. “All right, you two. I’m out of here.”
Betsy yawned. “Have a good time at brunch.”
“Have something super expensive for me,” Kim called, settling herself on the couch. “We won’t be here when you get back.”
Betsy’s eyes danced behind her glasses. “We’re going to an improvisational dance workshop for Valentine’s Day.”
I tried to stifle my laugh as I let myself out of the apartment. “Wow. Sounds…incredible.”
“I’m picking up on some sarcasm,” Kim bellowed, just as I pulled the door shut behind me.
I chuckled as I started down the stairs. Even an improvisational dance workshop could beat spending Valentine’s Day in a stuffy restaurant with women I didn’t know.
…
“Oh, look, she’s here.” Alicia’s voice floated across the dining room, and I raised my arm to wave. My shiny combat boots squeaked loudly on the marble floor as I walked.
I was hideously out of place.
“Yoo-hoo, we’re over here.” When Alicia wiggled her fingers at me in a cheerful greeting, the sunlight that poured through the windows glimmered on her ring.
“Hi.” My voice came out entirely too noisy, and I cleared my throat. “Er, hi.”
“Did you have trouble finding the place? I told Gabriel to give you directions.” Alicia was sitting at a long table, with four girls sitting at either side. “We ordered a mimosa for you.”
“Thanks.” I took a deep breath, flustered by the jog. “Sorry, I had to jump a few buses to get here.”
The girl to Alicia’s left wrinkled her nose. “You’re a bus person?”
I nodded. “No need to pay for gas when there is only parking for one-third of the cars in the city.”
Alicia’s green eyes sparkled. I swear she could do it on command, and I hated that about her. “I know. I’m always after Gabe about how much it costs to run our car.”
I swallowed the urge to point out that the car she was referring to was Gabe’s car. Not hers. He and I bickered over the fact that he bought a gas-guzzling all-terrain vehicle after receiving his last raise, instead of the economically earth-friendly smart car I was pushing him toward.
“I would be way too nervous to ride the bus everywhere.” She giggled, flipping her red hair back. She looked great, as usual, and it made me
want to bang my head on the tabletop. “You’re much braver than I am, Violet.”
I cleared my throat. “Well, sometimes the bums smell bad, but they tell a hell of a good story, too.”
“Girls, this is Violet Murphy,” Alicia explained. “She is going to be Gabriel’s best man. Violet, let me introduce you to my bridesmaids.”
I looked around the table at the four girls surrounding Alicia. It was like an ad for the United Colors of Benetton. All four pairs of eyes reeled to my face at once, and I immediately sensed scrutiny. My hair, my face, and my outfit were assessed as Alicia rattled off each of their names.
To her left there was a thin Asian girl, Rose, who I was sure I’d seen in an ad in Seattle Metro Magazine before. To her right, there was an African American woman, Shawn, whose long, braided hair shone like a licorice rope down her back. Next to her was Alicia’s cousin, Marissa, who was equally as beautiful as Alicia, which was incredibly annoying. Last but not least, there was a brunette, Kate, who glared at me while fingering a BlackBerry. Each one of the girls was at least three sizes smaller than me, and though in any other situation I would have been proud of my curves, in this group I wanted to hunch over to hide my breasts and tug at my shirt to disguise my tummy.
I waved at them, my jewelry clunking together. After slipping my bracelets off underneath the table, I dropped them into my purse and unfolded my napkin onto my lap. “Thank you so much for inviting me. I’ve never eaten here.”
Alicia sipped her mimosa. “Gabriel and I come here often. It’s one of our favorites.”
I looked around at the other women. “Wow, with these girls as your bridesmaids, and you for a bride, your wedding party will be stunning.”
“Well, I have to look at these pictures for the rest of my life,” Alicia joked, patting Marissa on the hand sweetly.
Rose snickered under her breath. “Hope the best man doesn’t plan on wearing that hat.”
I glared at her. “So…how do each of you know the bride?”
Kate spoke first. “I’m her agent. I work for Puget Model Management. So I’ve known her since she signed on with us…oh, how long ago was that?”
Alicia’s hand went to her chest, and I waited for her to say a number of years. “Eight months.”
My eyes bounced between the two of them, who were obviously sharing a tender moment. Did she just say months? Confused, I moved on to Rose, who offered me what could only be described as a grimace intended to be a smile. “I’ve been her roommate for a year now.”
“We did our first nudes together.” Shawn grinned. “That was two years ago. I hadn’t heard from her in a year, but here I am.”
My eyes bugged out of my head. “Nudes?”
Alicia waved a hand, dismissing me. “They were for an avant garde pictorial. There’s no porn in my background, I promise.”
I shook my head and sipped from my glass. “No, I wasn’t—”
“I’m Alicia’s cousin.” Marissa’s voice was loud and commanding. “She’s told me everything about you, you know.”
I nearly choked on my mimosa. “Oh, yeah? Such as?”
“Apparently you and Gabe have been friends since you were, like, ten, right?” Marissa folded her tanned arms. Who in Seattle, in the middle of February, was tan? Really?
“Six.” I bit the inside of my cheek.
“You two are, like, best friends, right?” She eyed my hat with disdain.
I tugged at the collar of my shirt. “Is it hot in here? Um, yes. Nobody knows me like Gabe does.” As soon as I said it, I cringed. Talk about opening myself up for scrutiny.
“Right.” She flared her nostrils. “So anyway, you guys know each other inside and out?”
I shifted in my seat and laughed. “Listen, I know Gabe really well, but not to the extent that he and Alicia know each other. I mean, some things just come with being in an actual relationship, you know?”
The other girls nodded in unison, and I released a breath of relief.
“Did you guys go to school together?” Shawn asked.
I nodded. “Yes. Clear until our junior year.”
“And you guys were neighbors,” Alicia pointed out, her mouth tightening.
“Yes.” I gulped. They should hang a single lightbulb over my head and slap me every time I answer.
“What’s his favorite color?” Marissa snapped.
“Gray,” I answered without thinking.
Kate nudged Shawn with her elbow. “What’s his shoe size?”
“Eleven and a half.”
Shawn tilted her head at me curiously. “What’s his favorite food?”
“What’s his biggest pet peeve?” Marissa polished off her mimosa.
Rose sneered. “What brand of toothpaste does he use?”
I noticed that Alicia’s eyes were round and the corners of her mouth were turned down, and felt sorry for her despite myself. It had to be embarrassing to be shown up by your fiancé’s female best friend. “His mother’s homemade lasagna, he hates it when people snap their gum, and he uses Crest.”
All five women at the table stared at me in silence.
“Anyway…”
“But wait.” Rose the roommate pointed her finger at my face. “Didn’t you and Gabe date at one time?”
My stomach turned. Alicia knew about Gabe and me dating? Well, of course she knew that Gabe and I were more than friends for a brief time. They were engaged, for Pete’s sake. I wondered how much detail he’d shared with her. Did he tell Alicia how much I’d loved him, and how much it destroyed me when it ended? Did he share with Alicia how awful those months afterward were?
I could feel the weight of all their eyes on my face. “I…I don’t know if I would call it dating.”
Marissa tapped a fingernail on her glass. “Well, what was it, then? If it was significant enough for Gabe to sit Alicia down and explain it all to her?”
I began weaving together tapestries of curse words in my mind, inventing colorful ways of inviting Alicia and all of her bridesmaids to go to hell. I wanted to tell Alicia that she didn’t deserve Gabe, or the rest of the Parker family, for that matter. Heat rose from the collar of my shirt like a teapot, warming my face. Just as I was toying with the idea of flipping the table over and screaming like Tarzan, someone else wormed his way into my thoughts.
Gabe.
Whether or not I liked it, Gabe loved Alicia Von Longorial. He’d made his choice, and if I loved him, or ever had, I would make it work between Alicia and me, no matter what it took. I didn’t like her. Not even a little bit. But Gabe loved her, and I loved Gabe. That had to be enough for me. Even if it meant going against my natural instinct to cuss like a trucker and possibly pull some hair extensions out of their perfectly coiffed heads. And if they didn’t think I knew those were extensions, they were kidding themselves…
My eyes locked with Alicia’s. “Gabe probably wanted to make sure you knew everything about his past with me, right from the get-go. He didn’t want you to think that he and I were trying to keep something from you. Because there was never anything…” I paused and gulped. “…real between us.”
My fists clenched underneath the table. Lying about my relationship felt downright sacrilegious. “We were just…sixteen, and curious, I guess. It never meant anything.”
Liar, liar, liar…the word echoed in my head like the beat of a drum.
“It didn’t mean anything?” Rose repeated. She was perceptive for a model.
“No.” I forced myself to laugh breezily. “Gabe’s my best friend. Nothing more.”
Liar, liar, liar.
“Well, I must admit, that’s a relief.” Alicia sighed. “You’ll have to excuse my friends for being protective. They’re just looking out for me.”
I nodded, an image of my own overprotective roommates flashing through my thoughts. “I understand. I would do the same thing.”
Liar, liar, liar.
The other girls all nodded like nice, obedient bridesmaids, and I bit the insides of
my cheeks. Alicia announced that it was time to go to the brunch buffet, so I followed the line of rail-thin women over to the food, trying to suck in my belly as I walked.
I watched each of the girls walk right past the pastries, cheeses, and meats resting on silver platters, focusing on the fruit trays like flies on…well, shit. They all plucked through the selection of fruits carefully, choosing only small chunks of cantaloupe and pineapple, with an occasional grape thrown in for some color. I looked down at the rapidly growing pile of hearty food on my own plate and my face flushed. There was definitely a distinctive difference between the plates. Meaning…I wanted to eat, and they wanted to graze.
When I returned to the table, the conversation while they nibbled on their “meals” ventured away from me and Gabe, and onto nailing down the look they all wanted to wear for their dresses. They clucked away, debating fabric, cut, and style suggestions, while I chowed down on my decadent food at the opposite end of the table.
I listened distractedly while they discussed all the different ways one could be draped in silk. Alicia pulled out pictures of the different dress designs she was considering and passed them around, to which the girls started ooh-ing and aah-ing. I allowed myself to be dropped out of the conversation, sitting back in my seat and digging into my omelet—yolks included—wondering how these girls could afford to pay forty bucks for a buffet they’d only eaten one-sixteenth of.
“How about you, Violet?” Alicia’s question cut into my thoughts.
All four of the bridesmaids were now staring at me, waiting for me to agree with Alicia.
I set my last slice of crispy bacon back on the plate. “Pardon?”
Alicia slid a picture down the length of the table to me. “What do you think about wearing a simple black dress?”
I held my breath. This was where the real Alicia was bound to come out. The resentment I’d picked up on from the first day I met her would drive her to pick out the least flattering dress out there. Alicia wouldn’t want anyone to outshine her on the big day.
The picture hit my fingers, and I looked down. Surprise washed over me, and my mouth dropped open. The dress she’d picked out was beautiful. A vintage-inspired strapless tea-length, with a full skirt and a satin sash around the waist. It would complement my curves and looked like something I might have picked out myself.