by Megan Rose
“No, I don’t. I was going to take you to dinner and ask you but then you broke your elbow. Then you started talking about this friend of yours coming over and I didn’t want to sound like an idiot. But I would really love to go with you. We’ll be hanging out together the whole time, anyway.”
Lacey’s lips curved upward slightly. She grabbed a dirty tissue off of the coffee table and blew her nose into it. Mark glanced at the tissue box – empty. “Really?” she said. Mark nodded. “I would love to be your date.” She wrapped her good arm around him and gave him a squeeze so tiny it was barely a hug. But Lacey was so tiny she was barely a person, so that seemed about right.
“Why don’t you just go try that dress on now and see how it fits then you can stop worrying about it?”
✽✽✽
After they ate croissant-ice-cream sundaes, Lacey went and tried on her lilac dress. It took her a little while to get it on with her arm, but she managed to slip into it and walk down the hallway in her apartment to show it off. She was worried it would look ugly with her sling, and she was right, but there wasn’t much she could do about it. She still looked incredible and with her hair and makeup done she would look even better.
They spent the rest of the day working on getting Lacey’s hair back to blonde. They went shopping for bleach and Lacey told Mark what to do since she was somewhat hindered. Her roots had started to come in and she was beginning to feel like a skunk. And she wanted to be blonde for Mayra’s wedding, anyway.
That night they got Chinese and Mark let Lacey pick out whatever movie she wanted, which, as it turns out, was Legally Blonde. She was just "in a blonde mood,” she kept saying. Her condition seemed to have improved greatly since that morning, but Mark wasn’t fooled. He knew the miserable Lacey could come back at any time.
He had fun with her while she was happy, and that made him happy. He was even letting the Bryan thing go a little bit, although every once in a while he would clench his fists when he remembered how much he hated him. He was probably going back to California, anyway. It’s not like Mark was ever going to see him again.
✽✽✽
“Lacey!” Mayra barged into Lacey’s apartment as Lacey looked through her refrigerator and found an old container of rotten fruit. She threw it away. It had been two days since she had woken up and discovered she was on the couch, wrapped in her afghan, crying in her sleep. “I need your dress,” Mayra said.
“What?” Lacey closed the refrigerator door and walked over to Mayra. “What dress? Why?”
“I need the lilac dress. Lana is in the middle of a decorating crisis and she needs to ‘see the color with her own eyes,’ as she put it. We won’t mess it up or anything, promise. I’ll watch it the whole time. Please – I’ll get it back to you by tomorrow night.”
“Mayra, I don’t know. This is Lana we’re talking about. She’s probably planning to use it as a dish rag or something. I really don’t know if I trust her to take care of it.”
“You don’t have to trust her! Just trust me! I swear, it’ll be fine. I’ll take really good care of it.” She pouted and batted her eyelashes at Lacey.
Lacey thought for a minute. Mayra wouldn’t let Lana destroy her dress. If she said she’d take care of it, then Lacey was sure she would take care of it. “Okay,” she said as she led the way to her bedroom, “you can borrow it. But I want it back in my hands tomorrow night – no stains or rips or tears or sparkles missing or anything.”
Lacey reached into the back of her closet where the dress hung away from all of the other clothes. “Here,” she said. She carefully pulled the dress out of her closet and handed it to Mayra. “Now – “
“I know, I know. Don’t worry, okay? I have it under control.” She yanked the dress a little too hard from Lacey and looked around her room. “When did you do this?” she asked.
“Do what?”
“Organize your room. It used to be a mess. Is your closet…color-coded?”
“Oh, yeah. Um…it was like a month or two ago. It actually used to be a lot more organized, but I haven’t kept up with it.”
“Okay, sure.” Mayra looked concerned. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked. “You’ve been acting so weird since you went mysteriously missing.”
“I’m fine.” Lacey smiled.
“Oh hey, do you know where Mark is?” Mayra asked.
“Why?”
“Blake wants to finally meet him before the wedding so he can grill him about his intentions.”
“Intentions towards what?” Lacey laughed.
“You,” she said matter-of-factly. “I told him he likes you, and you know Blake. He’s always felt like your big brother. He says you’re too gullible and too nice and you get taken advantage of easily.”
“Why does everyone think that?” She crossed her arms as best she could with a broken elbow and screwed up her face, thinking. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
“Okay, sure. Anyway, do you know where Mark is?”
“He’s at his store finishing a few things up before he leaves for New York.”
“New York?” Mayra made her way out of Lacey’s bedroom and flopped down on the couch. She looked tired. Her curly hair looked frizzy and unwashed and she was wearing sweats. Planning a wedding took a lot out of you, Lacey assumed. Lana was even letting her wear yoga pants to the salon every once in a while, which was surprisingly nice for Lana.
“Yeah,” Lacey grabbed some Chubby Hubby from the freezer and brought Mayra a spoon. She took the spoon and nervously chewed on it but didn’t touch the ice cream. “He’s going to help his sister pack up her house. She’s moving in a few months – here, actually. Her husband, who was a police officer, passed away recently and now she’s all alone with her two kids. Mark suggested she move here so he could help her out a little bit. Isn’t that sweet?”
Mayra snorted. “You know, you have the perfect guy right in the palm of your hand?” she said. “He’d do anything for you. Why aren’t you dating?”
“He doesn’t want to date me,” she said. “I’m a mess. He’s always taking care of me. I’m sure he’s sick of it. He’ll find someone eventually and get busy with her and forget about me. And that’s okay. I’ll be able to take care of myself again pretty soon.”
“What does that mean?” Mayra looked confused.
“Oh, nothing…just…so that’s where Mark is!” Lacey hopped off the couch and pulled the spoon out of Mayra’s mouth. “Now, here.” She picked up the dress from the couch and handed it to Mayra. “Happy decorating! Don’t you dare mar that dress,” she said, suddenly very serious.
“Lacey,” Mayra gave her a hug, “I will guard this dress with my life, okay? Now, have a nice rest of the day, and I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”
✽✽✽
Two days later and one week before the wedding Lacey left the salon more nervous than ever. It turned out they needed the dress a little longer than they said and she wouldn’t be getting it back until the next day.
If Mayra said it was fine, then she was sure it was fine, but Mayra wasn’t the only one involved. Lana was handling the dress too, though Mayra had told Lacey not to mention it to her. She said Lana would get mad, like Lacey was checking up on her and didn’t trust her. So, instead she bugged Mayra every second of the day that she wasn’t doing hair (which was much of the day, considering her one-armed limitation and her part-time status).
Lacey passed the Chinese delivery boy on her way into her apartment building that night. She would be seeing him again in about two hours, when Mark returned from New York. Lacey stuck her key in the lock (she had grown accustomed to locking her door, even though the back door still didn’t lock) and turned. Strangely, it didn’t click. It was already unlocked. Maybe she had forgotten to lock the door that morning?
She opened the door and noticed that the light was on and it smelled like chicken lo mein. Then she noticed Mark sitting on the couch, flipping through the channels with a spread of
Chinese food in front of him on the coffee table. On her dining room table next to the (plastic) flowers was a box with a ribbon on it.
“Mark!” She closed the door behind her and he looked up. “You’re back! I thought you weren’t going to be back until later tonight.” She ran over to him and jumped next to him onto the couch.
“We finished going through all her stuff a little earlier than we thought. Filled a whole dumpster full of stuff. Now when she decides to start packing she won’t have to go through everything and throw things away.”
“When is she moving here?”
“February. I think she’s going to move on Valentine’s Day. I suggested the fourteenth because I figured that might be a hard day for her. This way, at least she’ll be a little bit distracted and not depressed about being without her husband for Valentine’s Day.”
“Oh.” Why did Lacey feel disappointed? “Is that your gift for Mayra?” she asked, referring to the box on the table. “I thought we were getting her the Vitamix, which I’m so jealous of by the way. You can make smoothies, salsas, soups – “
“Yeah, maybe I can, but you can’t. You don’t cook.”
“Yes, but if I got the Vitamix, it would be easy and I would learn. You just chuck stuff in the blender and then press buttons. How hard can that be?” Lacey shifted and sat on her knees so she was a little taller next to Mark.
“Yeah, I’m sure it’s that simple. And no, that’s not for Mayra.” He got up and went over to the table to pick up the white rectangle box with the green bow. “It’s for you.” He smiled and sat down next to her with it on his lap.
“For me? Why did you get a present for me? You know it’s not my birthday or anything, right? Did someone tell you it’s my birthday? Because it’s not.” For some reason, this present had her panicking. Why would he get her a gift? Was it some sort of Kansas holiday or something?
“Just open it,” he said and shoved it onto her lap. She pulled at a green string anxiously and the bow unraveled. She had never been so nervous to open a present before, and she didn’t even know why. She lifted the lid to the box and looked inside. It was her lilac dress, folded up nice and neatly without a scratch.
“Oh,” she said and laughed, a little relieved. “It’s just my dress. Why do you have it? And why did you give it to me like it was a present?” She looked at him bewilderedly.
“Look under the dress,” he said. Okay, now she was nervous again. Slowly, she lifted up the dress and put it aside on the couch.
“Is this a…” she took the material out of the box, “…a sling? Is this a sling?” It was beautiful. It was lilac and sparkly and had little flowers stitched around the edges. It matched the dress perfectly and even the sash was lilac. “Mark,” she held the sling out and studied it, “this is amazing. How did you…when did you…where did you…” Oh God. The tears were about to start. “This is so…” And then she was sobbing. Outright sobbing, and she fell into Marks arms, dropping the sling onto her lap.
“Don’t cry!” he said. “I didn’t want you to cry! I just know how disappointed you were that you had to wear your sling with your dress and I thought maybe…”
✽✽✽
Words came out of Lacey’s mouth but Mark had no idea what they were. She sprang up off of the couch and dashed over to the tissue box and began blowing her nose furiously. When she had finally calmed down a little bit she took a few deep breaths and went back to the couch. “Mark, how did you do this? Did you have my dress this whole time?”
"Yeah,” he said. “I asked Mayra to get it from you so I could use it, then I went to my sister’s to help her go through her things. As it turned out, she mostly wanted me to look through all of their things and throw out what I thought they didn’t need or want anymore. She said it would make her too sad. So while I was doing that, I gave her your dress and asked if she could make something that matched. She was more than happy to be preoccupied while I threw out half of her belongings.”
“Oh my God, that is so nice. I have to thank her. I have to write her a note. Or give her a call. Or I should pay her. That’s what I should do, pay her. This can’t have been easy, and she must have done nothing else the whole time you were over there! This is too much. What’s her address? I’m sending her a check.”
“No,” he laughed, “she was more than happy to do it. She really enjoys that kind of thing. And like I said, it was a nice distraction for her.”
Lacey tried the sling on and almost didn’t take it off until she realized they had Chinese food and she didn’t want to get it dirty. They ate and flipped through the channels all night and both wound up falling asleep on the couch, food containers scattered across the coffee table. Lacey fell asleep leaning on Mark’s shoulder while he was still awake. He could have moved her, but he just turned the TV off and went to sleep too.
✽✽✽
The day of the wedding came, and the ceremony was beautiful. Lacey felt beautiful too, in her lilac dress with her special sling and her sparkly jewelry and curly blonde hair. It wasn’t often that Lacey felt so good about herself, but today she was bubbling with happiness.
Lana had done a surprisingly good job decorating the catering hall, and Mayra hadn’t been kidding when she said lilacs were going to be the theme of her wedding. There were bunches of lilacs hanging from the ceiling interwoven with white and pale green fairy lights, which sparkled like stars above the guests.
The tables were covered with white tablecloths with centerpieces comprised of lilacs and white roses and lilies. The mythological story of the nymph, Syringa, and how lilacs came to be was printed in script around each of the vases. There were deep purple gossamer ribbons tied to the backs of the walnut chairs, and there was lavender heart-shaped confetti sprinkled on each of the tables.
The wood of the dance floor matched the wooden chairs, and there was a piano player and a guitarist off to the side playing a slowed-down version of “The Way You Look Tonight.” Guests were milling about as appetizers were served.
The song ended, and everyone was hushed and seated as the piano player announced, for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Blake Henderson. Mayra was radiant as she descended the staircase with Blake by her side. They danced their first dance to the piano and guitar playing “Have I Told You Lately?” and Lacey watched, her eyes glossed over from tears. Mayra was such a good person; she really deserved someone like Blake to make her happy.
In addition to decorating the hall, Lana had also done an incredible job dressing herself. She wore a lavender dress, similar to Lacey’s. Lacey still felt pretty, though. Not Lana-pretty, but pretty.
It wasn’t until after dinner was served that Lacey looked across the room and saw that Lana was with Bryan. Was he her date? Typical. She probably thought Lacey wanted to be with Bryan, so she took him to the wedding.
Well, Lana wasn’t going to bother her today. Lacey was too excited for her friend and felt too much like a princess to be bothered by anything. She was having a blast with Mark, and they even went halfsies on their dinners of chicken and steak.
Maybe Mayra was right and he did like her. But she could never go out with him. Sure, he was gorgeous, kind, funny, and a bunch of other things, but she would feel guilty. Like he was just going out with her to make her feel better. Even so, when he asked her to dance she felt a little flutter in her stomach and her cheeks burned.
✽✽✽
All of the girls gathered behind the bride, hoping to catch the bouquet and guilt their boyfriends into proposing. Mark stood in the back with the guys, all of them praying their girlfriend didn’t catch the flowers.
“Wow. You’re doing a really nice thing,” he heard someone behind him say. Then, Bryan the Bastard, as Mark had deemed him, emerged from the crowd and stood next to Mark, looking at him.
“What, me? What am I doing that’s so nice? I’m just standing here,” he said.
“Lacey’s your date,” he said, as if that explained it all.
“Yeah, so? She
’s my friend.”
“Oh, that’s right!” He winked. “I guess you wouldn’t want to bring a real date, seeing as the ceremony was in a church and all that.”
“What?” Mark glanced over at the crowd of giddy girls, collectively bouncing up and down in anticipation. “Oh. Right. Yeah, I’m not gay,” he said. “And why is it a nice thing that I took Lacey?”
“Because,” he smiled like it was obvious, “she’s a bitch.” Mark’s fist automatically clenched and he slowly blew out a breath. “I mean, it’s one thing to refuse sex,” he said, “but it’s a whole other thing to attack me over it.”
“What?” Mark tried to keep his smile hidden. “What do you mean she ‘attacked’ you?”
“She slapped me!” Mark held in a laugh. Good for Lacey. “Can you believe that? It was the weakest little tap I’ve ever felt too. You better not make her angry anytime soon, though. I taught her how it’s really done.”
Mark watched Mayra throw the bouquet and paused. Okay. He wasn’t going to overreact. He was just going to politely ask Bryan to explain himself.
“I’m sorry?” Mark looked at him, his smile disappearing and his eyes hard as stone.
“You gotta show a woman who’s boss,” he said. “Slapped her right back. That showed her.”
And then Mark had no control over his actions, as his fist was flying through the air of its own volition, connecting with Bryan’s jaw. There was a noisy reaction from all of the men and the women all turned around to see what had happened. Blake came racing over.
“Okay,” he said, “I’m sure you had a good reason,” he stood between Mark and Bryan, who might as well have had steam coming out of his ears, “but nobody is going to ruin this day for my wife, so we are all going to let this go right now, got it?” Nobody said anything. Mark’s nostrils flared and he looked like an angry bull. “Whatever happened, I’m sure you can discuss it later and figure out – “
“He slapped Lacey,” Mark said, through clenched teeth.