Welcome to Temptation/Bet Me

by Jennifer Crusie

  Tomorrow night, she told herself and went back inside in time to catch what was definitely the high point of the evening, Nanette’s face when she saw the Krispy Kreme cake.

  “Hey,” David said when Cynthie picked up the phone on Sunday afternoon. “I haven’t heard from you. What’s—”

  “It’s over,” Cynthie said, and she sounded as if she’d been crying. “They’re in infatuation. It could be years before he comes to his senses. We lost, David.”

  “No, we didn’t,” David said. “I don’t lose.”

  “Cal loves her. He’s being honest with her. There’s nothing—”

  “No, he isn’t,” David said, fed up with hearing about Cal. “He’s chasing her to win that damn bet.”

  “What?” Cynthie said.

  “Uh,” David said, trying to find a way to explain that without looking like slime.

  “Tell me,” Cynthie said, her voice brooking no nonsense.

  “That first night,” David said. “I was mad. And hurt. And—”

  “David, I don’t care about you,” Cynthie said. “Tell me about the bet.”

  “I bet Cal that he couldn’t get Min into bed in a month,” David said.

  “Cal would not make that bet,” Cynthie said, her voice sure.

  “Oh, because he’s too noble.”

  “He distracted you with something else.”

  “He bet me he could take her to dinner.”

  “She left with him because you made a bet?” Cynthie said, fury in her voice.

  “It wasn’t my fault,” David said.

  “It doesn’t matter now anyway.” Cynthie’s voice dropped back into misery. “Even if you told her about the bet, she’d check with Cal.”

  “She already knew,” David said, resentfully. “I called her and told her last night. She said she’d overheard us.”

  Cynthie didn’t say anything.

  “I think she went to dinner with him to make me mad,” David said. “He sounded like she was pretty snippy, so she must have made him pay, too.” The silence stretched on until David said, “Cynthie?”

  “Does he know?” Cynthie said, her voice tight. “Does he know that she went out with him to make him pay?”

  “I don’t think so,” David said. “He hasn’t called me to tell me the bet’s off, and once he knows that she knows, it’s off.”

  More silence.

  “Cynthie?”

  “Do you know where Cal is now?” Cynthie said.

  “No, but he’ll be at Diana’s wedding tonight,” David said. “What diff—”

  “I know how to break them up,” Cynthie said, her voice like lead.

  “How?” David said.

  “Take me to the wedding. If she hasn’t slept with him yet, he’s frustrated to the breaking point. I’ll watch them, and if something makes him tense, if she turns him down again, if something goes wrong . . .” Cynthie paused again, and then he heard her take a deep breath. “I’ll tell you, and you go tell him that Min’s been making a fool of him all along. Tell him that everybody thinks he’s stupid.”

  “That’s enough to break them up?” David said.

  “That’s enough to give Cal nightmares for years,” Cynthie said, her voice miserable. “It’s illogical, but it’s been his trigger since he was a kid. Push that button and he explodes. If he does it in front of her family and friends—”

  “Wow,” David said, impressed with her once again.

  “What time is the wedding?” Cynthie said.

  “Seven,” David said. “Diana wanted it at twilight. Some fairy tale garbage.”

  “Pick me up at six,” Cynthie said, and hung up.

  Min had spent the night with Diana, who’d been so manic that she’d still been up, fixing bows on cake boxes, when Min gave up and went to bed, too tired even to miss Cal. But the next day, Di was quiet, still tense but not manic with energy anymore.

  “I just didn’t get enough sleep,” she told Min.

  When they got to the chapel dressing room, Wet, Worse, and Nanette were waiting, and Min ducked Nanette and her hair combs (“Min, you look awful with your hair like that”), took the cake boxes to the reception hall next door, and then went into the bathroom at the chapel to put her dress on. She was not going to struggle into the damn thing while Nanette made comments and Worse smirked.

  Something was very wrong, she thought as she tried to get the corset tied around her. Something besides her insane mother and the idiot wet and weeping bridesmaid in green, something beyond the cake Bonnie was now trying to decorate in orchids and pearls, something, she was pretty sure, much like the groom. I’ve got to talk to Di, Min thought, but what was she going to say? “You’re miserable and your groom is a moron and I think we should eat the cake and go home”?

  “Oh, hell,” she said and left the bathroom to go back to her sister.

  “You’re late,” Worse said, patting her ornate chignon as Min came into the room.

  “Bite me,” Min said, and went to stand beside Di. “Hey, baby, what’s up?”

  “Nothing,” Di said. “I’m just . . . glad you’re here.”

  “Yes, I am in all my glory,” Min said, holding her arms out to show off her gaping corset.

  “That corset’s not tight enough,” Nanette said, and turned her around. “Honestly, Min.” She untied the bow at Min’s neckline and then began to tighten the laces, working up from the bottom.

  “Uh,” Min said, as her lungs constricted. “Mother.” She put her hand on the back of Di’s chair to stabilize herself as Nanette yanked on the ribbons. “I have to be able to . . . breathe . . . during . . . the ceremony.”

  Nanette gave the ribbons a final excruciating pull at the top, tied them with a knot that would have had Boy Scouts staring in awe, and stood back to consider her work.

  “Well, it’s the best I can do,” Nanette said, and Min thought, That pretty much sums up our entire relationship, and turned away from her, her hand on her side, trying to breathe and see Diana at the same time.

  “Di?” Min said, and when Di didn’t say anything, she leaned over to see her sister’s face, constricting her lungs even more.

  Di was staring into the mirror, her eyes huge, the line of her beautiful jaw rigid, and Min forgot she couldn’t breathe.

  “Di? Are you all right?”

  “Fine,” Di said faintly, not taking her eyes off the mirror.

  “You look beautiful,” Min said. On Di, even the corset looked right. “Swanlike,” Min added, hoping to get a flicker.

  “She’s just got pre-wedding jitters,” Wet said as she settled her wreath of ivy and white baby orchids on her smooth, blond hair. She looked miserable.

  Worse nudged Min aside. “Go put your wreath on straight.” Her own wreath of cornflowers and orchids was perfectly centered on her head, balanced in back on her chignon.

  “Oh, Min,” Nanette said. “Your wreath.”

  Min picked up her wreath of lavender and orchids and slapped it on her head. At least it smelled good. She jammed a couple of hairpins in to hold it, watching Diana in the mirror the whole time.

  Di met her eyes and sat up straighter. “Go away.”

  “Okay,” Min said.

  “Not you,” Di said. “Everybody but you.”

  “What?” Worse said, stopping with her hands in midair, reaching for Diana’s wreath.

  “Diana,” Nanette said, shocked.

  Min took a look at Di’s frozen face. “Sister time. We’ll see you all outside in a minute.”

  “Hey,” Worse said. “I’m a bridesmaid—” Then she saw Diana’s face and stopped.

  “Out,” Min said, jerking her thumb toward the door.

  “Well, I’m not going,” Nanette said. “This is my daughter’s wedding.”

  “So go to it,” Min said. “Weren’t the pews all supposed to have flowers?”

  “Honestly, Min,” Nanette said and stopped. “Of course they’re all supposed to have flowers.”

  “Better check,�
�� Min said, and Nanette took off for the chapel.

  Wet picked up her bouquet of orchids, leaned over, and kissed Di’s cheek. “You look wonderful,” she whispered. “You look like a size two!” She handed Worse’s bouquet to her and pushed her toward the door, and Worse looked back, not so cocky anymore.

  Then Min and Di were alone.

  Min leaned against the counter and tried to work her fingers under the edge of the corset to gain a millimeter more of air so she could say what needed to be said. “Okay,” she said. “This is it. You tell me what’s wrong now, or I’m stopping this wedding.”

  “I want a Krispy Kreme doughnut,” Di said, the threat of a sob under the words.

  “I’ll get you one,” Min said, regrouping. “I’ll go out and—”

  “I can’t have one,” Di said. “There are twelve grams of fat in every Krispy Kreme.”

  “Well, yes,” Min said, “but I’m thinking since it’s your wedding day—”

  “Everything is perfect,” Di said.

  “Not even close,” Min said. “Listen, if you want out of this wedding, I’ll get the car keys from Cal, and you and I can go back to the apartment and drink champagne and eat many Krispy Kremes.”

  “Want out?” Di straightened. “No. No.”

  “Okay,” Min said. “But if you change your mind, I’m not kidding about the car keys and the doughnuts.”

  “I won’t change my mind,” Di said. “This is my fairy tale wedding.”

  “Then it’s time to go,” Min said, hoping action might jog something loose in Di’s brain.

  Di stood up and Min held out her arms again to show her the corset.

  “So what do you think?”

  “This was a dumb idea,” Di said, her voice unsteady as she looked at Min. “Why would I put you in a corset?”

  “So I’d have a waistline,” Min said.

  “You have a waistline,” Di said. “It’s not a small waistline, but there’s nothing wrong with it.” She stood looking into Min’s eyes, breathtakingly beautiful, cold as ice.

  “Okay,” Min said, taking her hand. “You have to tell me what’s wrong.”

  “Nothing is wrong,” Di said. “Everything is perfect.”

  Worse knocked on the door and poked her head in. “Are you ready?” she asked, sounding more tentative than Min had ever heard her. “Because we’re supposed to be lining up.”

  Di ignored her, and Min said, “We’ll be right out.”

  Worse opened the door farther. “You look wonderful, Di.”

  Di picked up her bouquet.

  “Wreath,” Min said, and Di reached down for the wreath of white orchids and roses and slapped it on her head, the fingertip-length veil askew. “Oh. Okay. I can just pin—”

  But Diana was already crossing the room.

  “I’ll fix it,” Worse said, giving Min her usual “You’re impossible” stare.

  “I don’t think you can,” Min said, and picked up her bouquet and followed Diana out.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The setting sun flooded the vestibule, but Di’s face was pale and cold under her now perfect wreath and veil. George stood beside her, uncomfortable in his morning suit, darting anxious glances at her. He frowned a question at Min, and she shrugged. She felt for him, but he was low on her list of people to save at the moment.

  Wet stood in front of them beside the arch, and then the processional started, and she gave her bustle one final twitch, sniffed, broke into a rigid smile, took a step forward, and turned into the chapel.

  Worse moved forward, stood counting until it was her turn, blew a kiss to Di, took a step, smiled a broad cheerleader smile, and turned into the chapel.

  Min looked back at Di. “You are my sister, and I am with you no matter what. If you want out of this, I will get you out.”

  “Min?” her father said, startled, and Di shook her head.

  “Okay.” Min picked up the count from the music, plastered a smile on her face, took a step, and turned into the chapel.

  Something caught at her bustle and left her stuck, leaning into the archway in mid-step. She looked behind her and saw Di’s hand clutching the lavender chiffon ruffles on her butt.

  “Diana?” her father said, bewilderment in his voice.

  Min stepped back. “Daddy, go smile in the archway so they know everything’s all right.” She pried Di’s hand off her ruffles and towed her out onto the church steps into the waning light. “Talk.”

  Di’s bouquet trembled in her hands. “Greg slept with my bridesmaid.”

  “Susie?” Min said, not surprised but sick just the same. “I knew she—”

  “Worse,” Di said.”

  “How could it be worse?” Min said and then the other shoe dropped. “Karen?”

  Di nodded.

  “Oh,” Min said, trying to think of what to say as her rage rose. “Oh, honey.” She put her arm around Di. “Tell me this was before he proposed to you and not—”

  “Last night,” Di whispered, and Min took a deep breath, corset or not.

  “Son of a fucking bitch.”

  “Thank you,” Di said, and sniffed.

  “That whore, I swear I’ll rip out every hair on her goddamn head.” Min held Di tighter. “I’ll nail her fucking chignon to the church door, the miserable bitch. And Dad will take Greg apart. He’s been wanting to for months.”

  Di sniffed back a sob.

  “We’ll take care of you,” Min said. “You are not alone. Liza and Bonnie—” She broke off, realizing that flaunting her friends wasn’t the best move now, trying to imagine how she’d feel if either of one them betrayed her, if Liza slept with Cal, and it was incomprehensible, it couldn’t happen, they’d never—

  “I watched you and Cal last night,” Di said, tears blurring her eyes, “and you were so perfect for each other, you were just you, laughing and whispering together, you didn’t have to be anybody else, thin or anything, he loves you just for being you, and I wanted to talk to Greg, I wanted to be that with him, too, so when you fell asleep, I drove over to his apartment, and they were in the bedroom.” Her face crumpled. “They weren’t even on the bed.”

  Min put both arms around her and held her close. “And Karen’s blowing you kisses today. The skanky whore.”

  “They don’t know I know,” Di said into her shoulder. “They didn’t see me. I backed out.”

  “That was very mature,” Min said, gritting her teeth. “I would have put blood on the walls. Okay, I’ll go stop the wedding—”

  “No,” Di said, straightening fast. Her pearl-studded corset rose and fell as she sucked in air. “No, no. No.”

  “What?” Min said.

  “No,” Diana said. “I’m ready to go.”

  “Okay, I admire how you’ve handled this,” Min said, trying to sound calm, “but I think actually marrying the son of a bitch may be carrying maturity too far.”

  “I have to,” Di said, breathless. “It’s all planned. There are presents. Bonnie put pearls on a cake.”

  “I’ll eat the cake,” Min said. “I’ll send the presents back. I’ll even maim the groom for you.”

  “No,” Di said. “It wasn’t . . . He wasn’t . . . It was just pre-wedding jitters. We’ll be fine.”

  “Di.” Min took as deep a breath as possible and tried to sound calm. “Pre-wedding jitters means he panics at the bachelor party. It doesn’t mean he fucks your best friend.”

  Di shook her head. “No, no. Not everybody finds a Cal. Greg is a good man. He just . . . panicked. I’m getting married.” She swallowed. “I just had to tell somebody. It’s a relief to tell somebody.”

  “Oh.” Min felt sick. “Okay. But if you change your mind at any time, in the middle of the ceremony, in the middle of your honeymoon, in the middle of the birth of your first child, I will be there to help you leave. You say the word and we’re gone. You are not alone.” She tried to take another breath and her corset fought back. “Listen, are you sure? Because I—”

&nb
sp; Di nodded. “I just had to tell somebody. I’m okay.”

  “Wonderful,” Min said, “I’m not.” She waited another beat for her to back down, but Di walked past her into the vestibule, leaving her nothing to do but follow.

  Min smiled at her father, who looked crazed, took her place in the arch, and started down the aisle, vaguely aware that David and Cynthie were in a pew together looking tense, that Bonnie and Liza were in the third pew from the altar sending her “What the hell?” looks, that Cal was in the second row staring fascinated at her neckline, and that Greg-the-bastard was up at the front looking annoyed. Die, you treacherous scum-sucking pig, she thought, and that was so inadequate she began to think of other things, not realizing she was scowling until she saw Cal’s eyes widen and Greg take a step back.

  She smoothed out her face. Okay, there was that “show just cause or hold your peace” moment for stopping weddings, the escape clause. She could say something there. But if she did, she’d ruin Di’s wedding, and she had a feeling the wedding was more important to her sister than the marriage. And even if it wasn’t, it was Di’s choice. Min was not going to be her mother, running Di’s life for her.

  She took her place beside Worse at the front of the church and thought about smacking her in the face with her bouquet. Maybe she could say she’d slipped. A couple of times.

  Worse sighed and shook her head at Min, pointing at her own wreath.

  Bitch whore, Min thought, and straightened her wreath.

  The wedding march kicked in, and Min turned and watched as Diana started down the aisle, a Hollywood vision with the sun shining behind her like a blessing.

  Her face was lost, and Min’s heart broke for her.

  Min turned away and saw Cal frowning at her. He mouthed “What?” at her and she shook her head, almost in tears. Not even he could fix this one.

  Di reached the front of the church, the ceremony began, and after a while people began to stir in their seats. They know something’s wrong, Min thought. They weren’t getting that happiness buzz people were supposed to get at weddings. Even Di’s bustle looked tragic.