No Day Like Today

by Amy Teegan

  The main photographer crouches in the aisle, photographing the ceremony. Ian had not noticed her there; she must have been doing her job from the back or around the side. She glances up at him, but looks away without acknowledging.

  Goddamn, this is the perfect angle to see down her dress, Ian thinks. She’s just asking for it.

  After another few moments, she gets up and walks back up the aisle ruining his view. Ian tries to look around covertly. What are the other guys doing? Everyone seems to be listening intently. Ian sighs and turns his attention back to his sister.

  He doesn’t have any idea what was happening in the ceremony. He vaguely remembers the coordinator lady saying that music would be playing when they walk back up the aisle, so Ian is kind of just waiting for that.

  Now the other photographer is in the aisle, also crouched down and photographing the bride and groom. Ian wonders where the main girl went.

  Oh well. This is almost done.

  And then he has to take a few more photos.

  Then open bar the rest of the night — the best reason to be here.

  Sure, he loves Lindsay. And, yes, Ryan is an awesome brother-in-law. But this whole wedding thing? The fancy outfits and all the rules? Totally not his thing. Ian would not at all have been offended to not be invited.

  But since he has been, he will absolutely take advantage of it. He has a strong suspicion he will be able to find that Karen girl near the bar as soon as the ceremony is over. Ian grins when he notices she is still looking at him.

  5:55pm Amber

  Amber holds the bride’s bouquet. No wonder the bride always hands it off, she thinks. This thing is heavy. Must be almost two dozen dense, pink rosebuds, in addition to all the greenery and filler.

  “For better or for worse. For rich or for poor.”

  Lindsay and Amber had had a long conversation about the wedding vows. Were those old traditional vows too staid? Too old fashioned? But, on the other hand, did Lindsay think she could write anything better?

  Amber tries to stand up straighter and focus on what is being said. So she can gush appropriately later. Her best friend in the whole world vows to love this really great guy forever and ever. Amber knows she should be focused and attentive and maybe even cry because she is so happy for Lindsay. But she can’t.

  Mostly because she’s so hot. The sun is still out in full force and somebody had miscalculated. All of the guests are in the shade of the house, but the altar and entire wedding party swelter in direct sun. Whose idea was these black bridesmaid dresses? Amber can feel the sweat rolling down her back. The dress will be sticking to her any second, and everyone will see her dark sweat spots as she walks back up the aisle.

  If the minister doesn’t hurry up Amber is sure she’ll be dripping make-up onto the front of her black dress.

  Amber tries to covertly blow her bangs up. Even her warm breath is a little bit cooler than her skin.

  In those few seconds when she isn’t distracted by the heat, Amber has to remember to avoid eye contact with Ian. They have always been friendly before last night, so it’s a little weird for her to be avoiding him. It’s easy, though, since he had smuggled his sunglasses up to the altar. And he is apparently talking to someone in the audience.

  She should have eaten more. Lunch feels like so long ago. Amber bends her knees just a tiny bit — the coordinator had warned all the wedding party about locking their knees and fainting during the ceremony. The ceremony feels unnaturally long. They hadn’t run through the whole thing at the rehearsal the previous night, so Amber isn’t totally certain what to expect.

  “Ryan, I am so thankful for every day you are in my life.”

  Amber has heard Lindsay’s vows. She wrote at least a third of them. Ryan’s vows are a surprise, though.

  “Lindsay, for all the time I have known you, you have been nothing short of perfect.”

  Amber’s throat tightens. Tears well up.

  Why is Amber still alone? What’s wrong with her?

  She hears Pastor Roberts pronouncing them man and wife. She hears the cheers and applause as Ryan dips Lindsay for their kiss. She feels herself smiling manically as she senses herself being on display, cameras clicking from all directions.

  6:11pm Kristy

  As the bride and groom walk back up the aisle, Kristy checks her phone — 6:11pm. Only eleven minutes off schedule. Not terrible. She hopes Leah can hold dinner for the little bit of time they need.

  The guests pour into the aisle behind the wedding party, shuffling their way toward cocktails and appetizers. Marta makes her way around the edge of the crowd.

  “Do you want me to shoot the cocktail hour photos?”

  Kristy thinks about that for a moment. What it would mean. What it would leave for her to do. That had been the original plan, but …

  “Marta, what lens do you have on right now?”

  “Um, 35?”

  “Ok, perfect. I’d like you to handle the big group shots if you don’t mind? I don’t want to give that pig any other reason to look at me.” She tugs at the neckline of her tank top.

  “Oh my god, of course. I still cannot believe he said that. Of course, whatever you need.”

  “Thank you.” Kristy smiles. She wants to cry. She tips her head back and waits a beat to get control of her tears.

  “I’ll go get started. Before that asshole has another beer.” Marta pats her arm before walking toward the bar.

  Kristy watches her wind her way through the crowd to try to corral the groomsmen. Thank god for Marta.

  The more she thinks about it, the more Kristy marvels at the fact that she had been able to come up with a retort so quickly. She’s tougher than she thought. Of all the weddings she has shot she has never, ever been made to feel like that. Like she is on display for some jerk’s gaze instead of being hired for her skills. Like she is the butt of some disgusting joke.

  She wants to call Nick right away and tell him … but she also doesn’t want him to know. Ever. It’s all so embarrassing. But he would want to know. She texts him. Just a quick note: ‘Awful day. Groomsman made a comment about my boobs. I’ll tell you about it when I get home.’

  She stares at her phone, scrolling through Instagram for a full two or three minutes to distract herself while she wills him to respond.

  Nothing.

  The crowd has thinned and Leah’s team is already taking down the rows of chairs where guests sat to watch the ceremony. Kristy sighs and makes her way around the edge of the patio where the guests are hugging and exclaiming over Lindsay and Ryan. They still have not made it through to where Marta has the rest of the wedding party waiting.

  Kristy stops and puts a hand on Lindsay’s arm, waiting to get her attention.

  “Oh! Yes! Here I come. I’m so sorry!” Lindsay smiles at Kristy, says good-bye, again, to the older couple she had been talking to, grabs Ryan’s hand and follows behind the photographer to the front yard where the large group photos will be taken.

  It takes a few minutes to get everyone organized. Ryan has a huge family; probably a third of the guests are related to him. Kristy works on directing and posing, and leaves the actual photography to Marta. Once that side of the family is done, and they move on to Lindsay’s family, Kristy is more hesitant. She deliberately avoids eye contact with Ian and instead directs everyone around him.

  While Marta photographs the grandparents, Kristy hangs back in the shade of the front of the house. The low hedge around the front stoop obscures her just enough to let her be forgotten.

  But Blake must have been looking for her specifically. As soon as he spots her, he comes to meet her. His slow steps belie his single-minded intention. He stands on the lawn and talks to her over the hedge. “I, uh… I apologize for my brother Ian. He’s had a lot to drink. I’m sure he doesn’t realize how rude he is being.”

  “Thank you.”

  It takes some effort, but she manages to not roll her eyes. She won’t let herself smile or do any of those li
ttle expressions to downplay and assure the other person it is okay. It’s not okay. It’s undoubtedly awkward for Blake, but, really, making excuses for such behavior is almost as insulting. She wants everyone to forget about it, even though she never will.

  Blake smiles sheepishly and backs away a couple steps.

  Kristy needs this day to be over. It had started with nerves and being disappointed she couldn’t stay home with Nick, but it has only gotten worse. There is only have about three and a half hours left. But who’s counting?

  As Marta finishes up with all the large family photos, Kristy notices Ian trying to catch her eye. She steadfastly refuses to acknowledge his existence. She will have to remind Marta to make sure Ian is in some of her shots, because Kristy will not be pointing her camera in his direction.

  Her phone buzzes. A response from Nick: ‘What???! Want me to come down there? I’m sorry, babe. Can’t wait to see you.’

  Kristy smiles. Only three hours left if you don’t count her break for dinner.

  6:28pm Ian

  Ian stands for a moment to the side of the bar, Coke in hand. No beer for now. If Amber was right, he’s got to get a bit under control. He scans the patio and the rest of the backyard, looking for a woman dressed all in black. Unfortunately there are several — all of the bridesmaids, two photographers and at least three waitresses. But, there she is. The hot one wearing the dress with the low neckline. Standing at a cocktail table not far away looking at the back of her camera. Her back is to him, so she will not see him coming. Ian rolls his shoulders, and stretches his neck. Relax, he thinks as he tries to walk over to her as casually as possible.

  “Hey.”

  She looks up. A flash of … something, crosses her face before she gives him a half smile. “Hello.”

  She returns her attention to her camera. Goddamnit, she’s not going to make this easy for him is she? He stares into his cup.

  “Great wedding, right?”

  “Sure.”

  “How late will you be here?”

  She looks at him, narrowing her eyes. “Ten.”

  “Cool.”

  Silence. Fuck.

  “You, uh … You should have a drink. You and the other girl have been working really hard.”

  She narrows her eyes at him, waiting a second before responding. “I am not going to drink while I’m working. Which reminds me…” She offers him a tight, cold, not-quite-a-smile, holds up her camera so he can see she’s working, and walks away.

  No good-bye. No apologetic smile. No nice to meet you. She just walks away from him.

  Well fuck her then, he thinks. I come over here and try to be a nice guy and smooth things over and she just walks away?

  Ian finishes the rest of his Coke in one big gulp and walks back to the bar for the real drink he deserves.

  7:00pm Amber

  The line at the bar is still at least a dozen people deep. Amber sits at the head table alone, watching the guests, watching the coordinator and the DJ chatting. They’re both looking around, gesturing. Discussing something specific, it looks like. Leah points at Amber, and the DJ nods.

  Here it comes, she thinks.

  Only about a third of the chairs around the tables are filled when the DJ goes into action. He’s tall and middle-aged, still-dark hair that probably had some help. She watches as he goes out of his way to talk to every single person standing on the dance floor, interrupting their conversation and handing them his card, during cocktail hour.

  Great choice for a wedding DJ.

  “Alright everyone,” he announces from the middle of the dance floor. “Let’s all find our seats. Get our drinks. The party is about to begin!”

  Amber rolls her eyes, although she supposes it’s his job. He seems to be having fun, and she knows Ryan and Lindsay love his cheesiness, so at least there’s that.

  “Ladies and gentleman, please put your hands together for the happy couple: Mr. and Mrs. Ryan and Lindsay Rowe!”

  They appear from around the side of the house. Not a particularly grand entrance, but options are limited in a backyard. The awkward DJ continues to chatter — how lovely she looks, how lucky they are — but Amber has tuned him out. She watches her best friend be led to the middle of the dance floor by her new husband as Etta James starts crooning through the speakers.

  The DJ catches her eye and begins moving toward her through the crowd. Oh, god, she thinks. I guess that’s me.

  “You’re the maid of honor?”

  “Yes.” She tries to smile welcomingly. She really is trying.

  “You ready for your toast when they’re done dancing?”

  “I guess.”

  “Ok, great. We’re doing this first dance and then straight into toasting. You go first, then hand it off to the best man.”

  “Ok.” Amber looks around. Where is Ricky? He had better not leave her standing here with a mic.

  As the dance progresses, more and more guests find their seats, carefully squeezing between other tables where guests have pulled their chairs out into the aisle. She spots Ricky, waving a bit to catch his eye and gesture him over. He kisses his wife and helps her into her chair at a nearby table, then joins Amber and the rest of the wedding party.

  As soon as he sits, she leans over to whisper, “Are you ready for your toast?”

  “Sure. No problem.”

  She can’t ask him any more because the song is ending, people are clapping, the DJ is talking.

  Amber hears her name. This is it.

  She stands up and clears her throat, holding the mic awkwardly. It is heavy and enormous in her hand. She feels every eye on her and is suddenly very aware that she is about to give a toast without having a drink in her hand.

  “Shit,” she whispers. But not quietly enough that it is not picked up by the microphone. Amber hears a small ripple of laughter around the tables as she looks for her glass. There are so many at this table; which is hers? She must look completely lost because Ricky reaches over to select the glass of champagne sitting between them and hands it to her.

  Amber tries to communicate every ounce of gratitude in her body in just the look she gives him as she took her glass.

  Ok, here we go.

  “Um, hi,” she says into the mic. The DJ adjusts the volume. “I’m Amber. I’m the maid of honor. I just wanted to thank everyone for coming tonight. I know Ryan and Lindsay feel very grateful that you all could make it.”

  And then she realizes that her speech is folded up and tucked in the ribbon wrapped around her bouquet.

  Which is at that moment decorating the cake table all the way on the other side of the yard.

  Her heart thumps, her face flushes, and for a second she stops breathing.

  What did I write in that toast?

  Every eye is on her, and she can already hear whispered conversations beginning at some of the farther away tables. She has lost them.

  “I, uh … I’ve known Lindsay for about, um. Fifteen years? Almost? And I have never seen her as happy with any of her past boyfriends as she has been these last two years with Ryan.”

  She catches the eye of Ryan’s grandfather sitting at the closest table with the more of his family. The old man smiles as if whatever she is saying is the best thing he has heard all day.

  “He is kind and generous and … They are both very lucky to have each other.”

  She looks at Lindsay, who is beaming at her, leaning snuggled against Ryan.

  “I suppose this is where I tell Ryan if he hurts her I’ll kill him.” A light laughter murmurs through the crowd. “But I’m not worried about that. These two have what it takes to …” Her voice catches. She can’t cry. Not now. “They have what it takes for the long run. I know they will compromise and take care of each other and just… Just be there for whatever the other one needs. Their marriage will be something we should all look to and hope to have for ourselves. If we can be so lucky.”

  She has got to wrap it up. The tears are spilling over.

&n
bsp; “So, let’s all raise our glass,” she can barely get the words out. She clears her throat. “To Ryan and Lindsay. Congratulations, you guys.” Amber turns to her best friend as she gestures with her glass of champagne. She hears clinking and shouts of ‘congratulations’ all around her, but she only has eyes for Lindsay. Her best friend who is going to be so deservedly happy, while Amber still wanders in the wilderness, single and sad.

  “Love you,” Lindsay whispers as she hugs Amber fiercely. “Thank you.”

  “Love you,” Amber whispers back. She is completely unable to hide or stop the tears now. “I’m really so very happy for you.”

  7:22pm Leah

  The toasts finish up, and they are only running a little late now. But Leah knows they can pick up some extra minutes during dinner. Ryan and Lindsay will be finished eating first and lead the way. Everything will be fine and she is in the home stretch.

  Leah checks the time — 7:22pm and still no contact from Joe. She has guessed as much and is starting to feel insulted by his obvious avoidance of her. Even though she is at work all day, he could at least say something. Anything. It’s rude to not even respond after she had called and texted. ‘All packed up and ready to leave,’ ‘Got to my sister’s, I’ll call you tomorrow.’ Anything.

  Leah wonders if Dylan has heard from his father. Probably. They have always been a lot closer than she and Dylan. Or sometimes even closer than she and Joe.

  They constantly make plans without her — “Sorry, hon’. We assumed you would be working.” Dylan would only call for his mom if he needs something like a ride or to tell them he’d be late. They have inside jokes without her. They somehow both went to see the latest Coen brothers movie and she still doesn’t know where she was when that happened.