Always the Last to Know (Always the Bridesmaid)

by Bowling, Crystal

  As I make the turn into the parking lot, I see Ms. Callahan standing just outside the door with a man in a nice pair of slacks and a tucked-in blue shirt and oh my God she’s kissing him! Riley’s mom is kissing some dude!

  I park my car in the very last parking space that faces away from Ms. Callahan and the guy she’s macking on. I cut the engine and scoot down in the seat to stay hidden, but stare out my rearview mirror until they finish their very public make-out session and the guy gets in his own car and leaves. Ms. Callahan watches his car - a nice ass BMW- as it pulls out of the parking lot until it is out of sight on the road before she goes back inside.

  It’s totally okay that Ms. Callahan is kissing a guy. I mean, she’s been a widow for about two years now. To the best of my knowledge, she hasn’t been on a date since Mr. Callahan died. I’m surprised that she hasn’t dated more. Or at all. Which it would be hard to date again after losing your husband. I imagine that it would also be difficult to date when you have a son like Riley who is so overprotective and annoying.

  I wait a few minutes so as not to look conspicuous before I head inside the paint shop. The chimes on the door cause the bored girl sitting at the counter to stop picking at her split ends and look up. She offers a hint of a smile before going back to examining her hair.

  I spot Ms. Callahan in the back corner talking to one of her employees. He’s a tall guy with biceps the size of my head and the smock he’s wearing looks more like a bib on his buff frame. Man, if Carla knew this guy worked here, Evan might become a distant memory.

  The guy walks off with a saunter about him and Ms. Callahan spots me. “Jess! It’s so good to see you.” She smiles happily and rushes over to hug me. “Riley just called a little while ago and said that you might stop by to pick up some paint for his house.” She says with a weary look.

  Ms. Callahan isn’t as stupid as Riley wishes she were; she can see right through that lie of his. I just nod at her. I hate that Riley lied to his mom, and I also hate that I’m lying to her too. I mean, I’m not even lying to my own mother about all of this; I’m just avoiding her phone calls until I can think of an excusable way to explain the situation. At least with Riley’s mom still clueless, she won’t be able to tell my mom. And, really, that’s the best thing for all of us.

  “Yeah, well, I’m just trying to help. Use it as payback for later or something.” I offer a smile.

  I can’t help but notice that Ms. Callahan’s mauve lipstick is smudged around her lips. She wasn’t kidding around with that guy outside.

  Oh my God. Riley’s mother is getting more action than me.

  “I can’t believe he didn’t come with you to make sure you didn’t pick out anything too girly.” She winks at me as she grabs some color swatches from a well-lit display on the wall. “Then again, you two never did do well shopping together.”

  Ah, the Home Depot Incident, as she and my mother like to call it.

  Yes, we got blacklisted. Yes it’s amazing we weren’t sued. Yes, it all started because of an argument over stepladders. Why does everyone have to keep mentioning it?

  “It happened a long time ago.” I mumble.

  “All I’m saying is that I don’t want to have to kick my own son out of my store. The same goes for his. . . you.” She pauses before showing me a color swatch. “Riley mentioned yellow, right?”

  I nod. The color swatch has four squares of yellow paint on it, each almost indistinguishable from the one next to it. I chuckle at the name of the last square patch of yellow: Daffodil Dreams. I’m tempted to get that color, just to see Riley’s expression when I tell him that his kitchen walls are painted in Daffodil Dreams. I think the only thing that would make him cringe more is telling him that his mom was making out with some random guy who drives a nice ass BMW.

  Okay, the BMW part wouldn’t bother him. The rest though? Yeah, it wouldn’t be a pretty sight to see.

  “I think these are too bright. Maybe something softer.” Riley is going to kill me.

  She hands me another color swatch of yellows.

  “So, why is my son giving you permission to choose the color to paint his walls?”

  I make a point not to look at her until I can form a clear answer in my mind because, really, I don’t know why he’s letting me either, and me trying to think of a possible answer makes my face scrunch up in odd ways. I mean, yeah, we had made a deal, but he had caved in so easily to my request. A request that I had made half-jokingly, thinking that he would never allow it to happen.

  “He was saying that his house was in dire need of a makeover.” I say casually. She raises an eyebrow. “Okay, he didn’t say those exact words. Evidently, he thinks that I have a good enough taste to make his house not look like it’s still stuck in the seventies.”

  The house has made vast improvements since Riley bought it a little over a year ago. The first thing he did after buying the house was get new carpet to replace the matted down rust orange shag covering every square inch of floor. Even with the removal of the carpet, the place still doesn’t feel up to speed with the rest of the world. Maybe it’s the olive color counters. Or the disco ball light bulb in the hallway that Riley can’t bear to part with.

  “I really like this color, the Serendipity Star one.” I point at a pale yellow square on the paper.

  “Jess, I’m disappointed. I thought you would be picking out a color that would make Riley’s skin crawl as soon as you said the name.” She laughs, “Are you sure you don’t want the Pansy Perfection one?”

  I can’t hide my disapproval as I stick out my tongue at the name.

  “Riley should like this color. It’s not too feminine for his taste. I’ll have Conway set it all up for you.”

  “Okay, great. Thank you Ms. Callahan.” I smile.

  “I’m always happy to help you out. And this all seems to make my son very,” she’s testing out words in her mind before committing to one, “exuberant.”

  I wasn’t expecting that word. Riley seems absolutely tortured by the idea of the plain whitewashed walls of his kitchen being turned yellow. Where in the hell is Ms. Callahan finding his exuberance? I certainly haven’t seen any other emotion (aside from repulsion) on his face every time I mention the yellow paint.

  “You know, maybe I don’t want yellow walls.”

  Ms. Callahan raises an eyebrow, not out of surprise, but intrigue, “Oh?”

  “Yeah, maybe. . .” I look at the color swatches on the wall for a quick second before pulling out a paper with dark reds on it, “this one?”

  She leans in closer to see the dark red, almost maroon color I’m pointing at. Truth be told, I like the color. It’s dark but somehow vivid and comforting. Not to mention that it would match the black light fixtures in the kitchen perfectly.

  And I know that red is Riley’s favorite color.

  “Are you sure, Jess?”

  I nod.

  “Okay, if anyone knows how to make my son happy, it would be you.”

  Obviously Riley didn’t mention to his mom how my elbow met Knudsen this morning. That made him REAL happy. Not.

  Ms. Callahan is still smiling. I haven’t seen her this happy in such a long time. I wonder if the Mystery Kisser has anything to do with it? I wonder if she’s going to tell Riley and Carla about him? I wonder how long I’ll be able to keep this to myself?

  Oh, who am I kidding, I’ll probably tell the person at the McDonald’s drive-thru after I leave here.

  Four

  Thursday, June 25

  I’m proud of myself. I have gone over twenty-four hours without telling anyone about Ms. Callahan’s Mystery Kisser. Granted when I got back to the apartment last night, I shut myself in my room and pretended to be asleep when Carla came in from her ten o’clock news shift to keep myself from spilling the beans. And, you know, I’m not entirely sure but I thought I heard Carla throwing up last night. I hope she isn’t coming down with anything, especially right before her wedding. Not that a little stomach flu would stop he
r. Hell, the bubonic plague couldn’t keep her from getting married.

  What’s even more impressive is that I still haven’t told Riley about his mom’s new beau, or whatever he is. I hate keeping secrets from him, I always have. He usually knows when I’m hiding something from him and has the tendency to pin me down to the floor until I fess up which, I won’t lie, makes me a little excited.

  Seriously, I have no idea what’s wrong with me.

  Riley hasn’t caught wind that I know something he doesn’t yet and it really needs to stay that way. Mostly because I have no idea how he’s going to react to the news and I really don’t know what to say to make things better. And I’m also pretty sure that I can’t hold him back from beating up the Mystery Kisser.

  Not that he would actually get into a fight with anyone. I know what he’s going to do. I can already see the way his face is going to scrunch up as he reaches for his cell phone and calls his mother to perform this decade’s version of the Spanish Inquisition. So, to save Ms. Callahan from that torture, I’m just going to keep my mouth shut. Or try to.

  At least shopping with him is mostly keeping my mind off the Mystery Kisser.

  It just makes me want to kill Riley.

  Riley holds up a set of ‘his and her’ bath towels and looks at me. I shake my head and wave the piece of paper in my hand.

  “Do we really have to keep to the rules, Reynolds?” He asks, throwing the towels back on the shelf.

  “These rules are the only thing keeping us from killing each other.” I remind him as I go to fold up the towels he just threw on the shelf.

  Before we left on this Shopping Day from Hell, Riley and I sat down and made a list of ground rules to keep us on track and hopefully cut down on our arguing. It hasn’t gone over so well.

  Rules for Shopping for a Gift for Carla and Evan’s Wedding

  1. No more than 50 bucks.

  “Riley, she is your baby sister and my best friend. Don’t be so cheap.”

  1. No more than 50 bucks. Price is not a problem.

  “The hell it isn’t a problem, Reynolds. I’ve got bills to pay.”

  2. Has to be something we both agree on. And no playing rock, paper, scissors over what gift is chosen.

  “Are you just jealous because you know whatever I choose will be superior to whatever dumb knick-knack you find?”

  “Nice to see that you’re keeping your ego in check there, Callahan.”

  3. Cannot be vulgar. Ms. Callahan is keeping a log over who gives what gift and I will not have my name next to a gift basket full of edible underwear and glow-in-the-dark body paints.

  “Like I’m really going to buy sex toys for my baby sister.”

  “You bought me a book on Karma Sutra and gave it to me in front of my mother.”

  “Yeah, but that was funny. Do you still have that book?”

  “No, I gave it to Annie. She said that she and Mr. Connelly had a grand time using it.”

  “Gross.”

  “Welcome to my world.”

  4. Has to have at least some sentimental value, i.e. cannot be ‘his and her’ bath towels.

  Riley grabs the paper from my hand and shoves it in his pants pocket before we continue down the aisle of home décor. I stop and throw four yellow placemats in the cart.

  “What the hell are those?”

  “Placemats.” He has seen placemats before, right?

  “I didn’t agree to get those for Carla.” He goes to pull the paper back out of his pocket, but I put my hand on his to stop him.

  “They’re not for Carla and Evan. They’re for your kitchen table.” And my hand is still on Riley’s.

  He squints his eyes while trying to remember whether or not he has placemats. “I thought I already had placemats.”

  “Expired Pizza Hut coupons are not placemats.” I remind him as I quickly remove my hand from his. Huh, that was different.

  “But these are yellow. And the walls are going to be yellow. What else? Are you going to kill, stuff, and mount Big Bird’s head to the wall too?”

  “You never know with me.” I fight the smile playing on my lips. I still haven’t told him that I chose red paint instead.

  Wow, that makes two things I’m keeping from Riley. Of course, the paint is a good surprise, his mom kissing some guy is a travesty. At least it will be in Riley’s opinion. Even if his mom is happier than she’s been in two years, which she totally seems to be.

  Riley continues down the main aisle while I veer to the right and head toward bedding.

  The problem with me shopping for other people is that I find stuff that I want for myself.

  Plus, I need new sheets.

  “Hey Reynolds, what about this?” I hear Riley’s voice from a few aisles over. If he’s holding another painting of a vase full of flowers, I’m going to beat him over the head with it, I swear to God.

  I put the sheets back and follow Riley’s voice. Oddly enough, he’s made his way to the jewelry department. I can’t help but raise an eyebrow at him. Surely he doesn’t want to buy Evan a tennis bracelet?

  “What are you looking. . . ooh, I love that horseshoe charm.” I point at the silver pendant in the jewelry carousel Riley is slowly turning around absentmindedly.

  Fine, so I’m distracted by shiny objects. That shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone.

  “You and horseshoes.” He mutters under his breath.

  I elbow him lightly, “Hey, I need all the luck I can get.” I look around the department, trying to see what has led Riley here, but I’m coming up short. “No offense, Callahan, but I don’t see Evan really wearing jewelry. . . especially when it’s given to him by another man.”

  He narrows his eyes at me jokingly, “I was thinking about getting something engraved.”

  “Like a heart locket?”

  “Can I help you find anything?” The pretty blonde employee asks, flipping her hair behind her shoulder. I don’t miss her giving Riley a good look up and down.

  “We were just talking about engravings. . .”

  “For your wedding rings?”

  We just stare at her.

  She giggles, “Oh, you’re not together then. Sorry.” At that realization, she turns her full attention toward Riley and starts telling him about all the different fonts he can choose from for his engraving and did she really just bat her eyelashes at him?

  I bet that whole wedding rings question was just a ploy to see if Riley was single. What a clever little bitch.

  Wait, what’s wrong with me? It’s Riley, I don’t care. In fact, I hope that he and the Clever Little Bitch are very happy together.

  I especially hope that I elbowed Knudsen hard enough to keep Riley from having sex for a long, long time.

  “What do you think, Reynolds?”

  “Think about what?” I ask sheepishly. I didn’t know that I was supposed to be listening in on the Flirt-a-thon between Riley and Clever Little Bitch.

  “Getting that chest of Dad’s engraved for Carla and Evan. And maybe we could fill it full of stuff for them.”

  I smile energetically, “That sounds like a great idea. But that chest is made of wood; you couldn’t get it engraved here.” I smile sweetly at Clever Little Bitch. “You know, my uncle Scott does woodwork and stuff. He could engrave it no problem.” I elbow Riley in the arm and smile, “You’re a genius.”

  “What the hell, Reynolds? That was a compliment.”

  “I know, I’m surprised too.” I laugh. I manage a look at Clever Little Bitch, who is glaring at me. I simper at her, “Thanks for your help though.”

  “No problem.” As she turns back to Riley, her scowl turns into a pleasant smile, “Now, if you need anything, you just come back here and see me. I’ll always have a hand to help you with.”

  Wow. Way to play it subtle there.

  ***

  “Do you think that your mom will be okay with you taking the chest?” I ask as Riley takes the turn onto our old street, where his mom and my parents stil
l live right next door to each other. God, I hope my mother doesn’t see me. Or worse, Dad.

  “For Carla? Definitely. Besides, it’s been sitting in the garage since Dad died and I’ve been jonesing to fix it up.” He shrugs, “Plus, Mom’s been in a really good mood lately. I’d think she’d be fine with me robbing her blind.” He shakes his head, chuckling. “Did she seem different to you when you picked up the paint?”

  Dammit.

  “Yeah, she was really happy. And I think I know. . .”

  “I wonder whose car that is.” Riley says as he pulls into his mom’s driveway. I look up to see a nice ass black BMW sitting in front of the closed garage. The same BMW that the Mystery Kisser was driving away in after macking all over Ms. Callahan yesterday.

  “Riley, stop the car.” I gulp.

  He slams on the brakes, “Are you okay?”

  I nod, “Yeah, but I think I should tell you this when you’re not operating a vehicle.”

  Especially when that vehicle could do some serious damage to a nice ass black BMW.

  “Jess?”

  I turn to look at Riley who is staring so hard at me and trying to figure out what’s wrong. My eyes are locked with his and the way my stomach flip-flops around like a fish out of water makes it impossible for me not to tell him what I saw.

  “That BMW belongs to your mom’s boyfriend.”

  ***

  “Carla!” Riley yells to his sister before he even opens the door to the apartment. I’m still running up the flight of stairs, trying to catch up with him. I wasn’t aware that, when you tell a guy that his mom is dating someone, he turns into a fucking gazelle.

  His initial reaction was slightly better than what I expected. He never did say anything, which initially worried me, mostly because Riley has never had any sort of a problem voicing his opinion. After I told him what I saw – I decided that it was best to leave out the part where the Mystery Kisser got some boob action from Ms. Callahan – he just said that Carla should know. He drove over to the apartment, obeying all traffic laws and even humming along to one of his mixed CDs. I was relieved by the humming; it convinced me that Riley was going to take a very grown up approach to the whole thing. When he parked the Jeep outside the apartment, however, he turned into a crazy man.