Her Fake Engagement

by Gigi Garrett

  Jane looks over her shoulder. “Officially, a few weeks.” Then she lowers her voice. “Unofficially, three months.”

  Which would take us exactly back to the bachelorette party.

  “Jane, I don’t remember this part of the article,” I joke.

  “I know,” she says. “Not the most honest article I’ve ever written. This whole thing is only against all of my rules.”

  Scott beams at her, and she smiles back. It’s like she’s living out a story from one of her romance novels.

  “I’m happy for you,” I say. “And rules might be overrated,” I whisper.

  Mia appears in the doorway. She cups her hand around her ear. She whispers, “Say that again, Lottie, but this time louder. Rules are overrated?”

  I shake my head. “You heard me the first time.” I look at her. “I like the magenta hair. I think it’s my favorite.”

  She flips her hair like a Valley girl. “It’s good for now. No need to make a commitment.”

  Mia walks out into the hallway and puts her arm around me. “Lottie and I are going to Trinity Jewels. That gives you two at least an hour. But remember, sock on the door. Please.”

  Jane turns scarlet, Scott gives a boyish grin, and we all crack up again.

  * * *

  Since it’s still a nice spring night, we decide to walk all the way to the store. We say it’s because of the weather, but I think it’s really because we both know that we need to talk.

  “I can’t believe Jane and Scott!” I say. “What a totally weird pair, but it looks like they fit.”

  “After you left that night,” Mia says, and I blush.

  “About that . . .” I say. “I’m sorry for storming out.”

  Mia takes my hand gently and kisses it. “You are forgiven. You always have been. I’ve been giving you time and space, and waiting for you to come back.”

  “Thank you,” I whisper.

  Mia puts her hand to her mouth. “Now, let me finish. So after you left that night, Jane drank, like, all the champagne in the Boom Boom Room, even the reserve bottles. And then she confessed to Scott that the whole bachelorette thing was fake. And they made out on the couch. I had to literally pull them apart. I thought she would lose her job. Plus, Elsa May was screaming about how Jane was breaking all the major rules.” She sighs. “It was a shitshow. But an awesome one, like reality TV–worthy.”

  I laugh because I can totally imagine this scene. I’m sorry I missed it.

  “So anyway, we both had hangovers for two days. Jane was so scared to go back to work that she was talking about quitting. But then she got an email from the university registrar that Scott had dropped her class.”

  I put my hand to my mouth. “No.”

  “And then she freaked out more,” she says. “But then he called her up and asked her out on, like, a real grown-up date and that’s been that.”

  “Insane,” I say. I look across the street at the awning for Trinity Jewels.

  “You ready?” she asks.

  “Wait,” I say. “What about you and camera boy Ralph?”

  She shakes her head. “He’s in Afghanistan on assignment and has been for two months.”

  I frown. “I’m sorry, Mia.”

  She waves her hand. “It’s okay.” Her eyes glow. “We’re writing letters. Actual letters on paper, written in pen.”

  “Who are you, a star of The Notebook?” I look at her and she’s blushing the color of her hair. “That’s so romantic.”

  She laughs. “It sure beats swiping right and left.” She pauses. “Who knows where it’ll go, but after a bunch of letters, this is the first time—in a long time—I feel like I’m truly getting to know someone in a real way.” She smiles her real-Mia smile. One that can’t be found on the internet in any of her pictures.

  “I can’t believe we haven’t talked in three months.” She shakes her head. “Let’s never do that again. And what about you?” she asks as we cross the street. “Are you seeing someone?

  “I was seeing someone,” I say, not wanting to get into all the details. “But it turned out I was only into the idea of him.” I roll my eyes. “I know. I know. I’ve done that exact thing before,” I say with shrug. “I’m a slow learner, but I figured out I’m looking for more than that. Finally. It only took me thirty years to figure it out.”

  She nudges me. “Well,” she says, pointing to the store. “Are you ready to try on your ring?”

  I hesitate on the curb. What if it actually fits?

  What if Tyler knows Lottie better than the real Lottie?

  * * *

  Mia flags down a salesgirl. “Andrea, can my friend try on that new Lottie ring by Tyler King?”

  I whisper, “I thought you believed it was pathetic for a single woman to try on rings.”

  “I’ve changed my mind about a lot of things,” she says. “Maybe I had more rules than I realized too. Maybe they kept too much out.”

  Andrea goes into a case and pulls out the ring. The Lottie ring. My ring.

  In person, it’s even more intricate and stunning than it was online. I examine it with new eyes. In one way, it’s totally an engagement ring. In another way, it’s nothing like one.

  I slip it on.

  “That’s it,” Mia says. “That’s totally it.” She lowers her voice. “He so made that for you.”

  I shake my head. “It’s just my name. It’s not my ring,” I argue, even though I don’t want that to be true. I might not say it out loud, but there’s a big part of me that hopes he did make it for me. Like the whole part of me.

  I hold out my hand. I don’t need to say this. Mia can also see how much it resembles my dream ring in a deconstructed way. “I like it,” I admit. “I would never, ever have tried this on otherwise, but I love it.”

  Mia raises her eyebrows and watches me admire each of its intricate details.

  I sigh, pull off the ring, and hand it back to Andrea. “It’s gorgeous,” I say.

  I look down at the case in front of me. There’s my fake engagement ring, still shooting Star Wars–size light beams. I can’t imagine how I ever liked it at all. The setting is all wrong.

  “Hey, Mia,” I say, turning to her. “I need your help for an idea I have for next Friday night.”

  “Anything,” Mia says.

  Chapter 11

  “The house is up on the left,” I say, pointing at Elsa May’s in-laws’ home. It’s the type of place you see in movies about really rich people in the suburbs. In fact, the kitchen was actually in a Diane Keaton movie back in the nineties. Thad was even an extra in the movie. If I ever had this house’s listing, I could live off the commission for a year. At least.

  “I’m going to run up and ring the bell,” I say to the driver. “Can you wait here, please? Another person should be joining me,” I say.

  I feel my heart race like I just ran a personal record in a 5K.

  Yesterday, Thad emailed me “remember, no promises,” but I’m hoping for a miracle. This is my last-ditch effort. My apology. My grand gesture.

  I pause before ringing the bell, then I press it. A grand ding-dong chimes. There’s the sound of commotion and the pitter-patter of little feet. Elsa May, wearing her Lululemon uniform, opens the door with Birdie perched on her hip.

  “Lottie?” she asks. “What are you doing here?” She looks me up and down.

  Birdie reaches out for me.

  I look to Elsa May. She nods.

  I take Birdie from Lottie and embrace her. I’ve missed her smell.

  Elsa May takes in my little black dress. “You look good, Lottie. Have you been running?”

  “The usual,” I say. I take a deep breath. “Hey, Elsa May, I emailed Thad and he said it was up to you . . . but how about one last bachelorette? The one you should’ve had, not that day at the spa one? I know I can’t make up for everything that happened between us, but this could be a start?”

  Elsa May laughs. “Oh god, I thought we were done with those.” She runs her
hands through Birdie’s angelic curls. She lowers her voice. “Especially after what happened.”

  “But you didn’t get your turn. Besides, I think we have a lot of catching up to do.” I point at the town car. “Don’t worry, I have everything planned. This time I’m Elsa May, planner extraordinaire.”

  “So I get to be Lottie?”

  I shake my head. “No, don’t be her. Unless you’re going to be Fun Lottie. But even she’s a real work in progress.”

  “I’m not sure,” Elsa May says. “Dateline is on tonight. Another love triangle gone bad.” From her tone, I can’t tell if she’s joking but I’m hoping she is.

  “Mia and Jane agreed to go if you say yes.”

  “You do have this all planned,” Elsa May says. Maybe I’m hopeful, but she sounds sort of impressed.

  Birdie reaches her arms out to her mom, and I reluctantly hand her over.

  I nod. “Thad’s so excited to spend the night with Birdie he even packed an overnight bag for you. It’s in the front closet.”

  Elsa May puts her hands over Birdie’s ears like earmuffs and smiles genuinely. “I could use a night out,” she admits. And even though I know we have a lot to fix, I can tell by her smile that it’s going to be okay.

  I give Birdie a giant kiss on her chubby cheek. “I’ll wait in the car,” I say.

  Elsa May takes her auburn hair out of her ponytail. “I can’t believe you came all the way out here. You say that you only go to the suburbs for baptisms and funerals.”

  I look at her seriously. “I also come for rebirths. And did I mention it was rush hour too. There’s champagne chilling in the car,” I whisper. “Hurry.”

  * * *

  Elsa May slides into the town car.

  I hold up the bottle of bubbly. “But first can we talk?”

  Elsa May juts out her bottom lip. “You’re withholding alcohol from a toddler’s mama at five p.m. on a Saturday night. It might not break any of your rules, but it violates about seven friend codes and possibly the Constitution. Depends on your interpretation.”

  I nod. “At her own bachelorette party, no less.”

  “Fine,” Elsa May says. “I’ll wait for the champers, but let’s not wait too long.”

  I take a deep breath. “This can be short. But I need to say that I’m sorry. I’m so incredibly sorry. First, I’m sorry for ruining Jane’s night.”

  Elsa May holds up her hand. “You didn’t ruin it. Didn’t Mia tell you about her getting freaky with her student? We were the show at the Boom Boom Room. That takes some serious gumption. It was awesome. People were looking at us like we’re interesting, not because I had spit-up on my shirt or because my toddler was throwing a tantrum in aisle three at Target.”

  I sigh. “I still feel bad. I bailed and created my own drama.”

  Elsa May bows. “You’re forgiven on that point.”

  “And I’m most sorry that I didn’t listen to you,” I say. “I know that you did start the bachelorette parties for me, not you. I dug myself a pretty deep well with all my rules, and you were just trying to help me escape.”

  Elsa May’s eyes fill with tears. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have interfered. I love you, Lottie, even the Not-Fun Lottie.”

  I hand her a Kleenex. “No. You had a real point, and I wouldn’t listen. If you can’t hear what your best friend is saying, who will you listen to? That’s really bad, right? I don’t want to be that type of person.”

  “Apology accepted,” Elsa May says, wiping at her running mascara. “Now let me say something, but first let me blow my nose.”

  She blows her nose like it’s a train whistle. “I swear. Babies are just walking petri dishes of bacteria and germs. I’m always sick now.”

  She pours Purell on her hands, rubs them, and then puts her hands over mine. “I’m sorry too. I’m sorry I got carried away with the bachelorette thing. I got tunnel vision.” She pauses. “I’m also sorry I didn’t come to you first,” she says. “But I needed time to think. About what you said. And what I said too.”

  I nod. “I understand.” I squeeze her hand. “I think the whole time I understood we both needed our time.”

  “Agreed, but let’s never do it again.” Elsa May leans in close. “I haven’t told anyone except for Thad but I’ve been interviewing for a job to be an assistant to an event planner.” She crosses her fingers. “It would be only part-time and I don’t want to jinx it, but I think I would enjoy it.”

  And even though I never imagined Elsa May as anything but a lawyer, I can actually see it. And it seems to make her a lot happier than discussing law. Besides, if she can throw together three faux bachelorettes in a month, she can certainly put on a party in the burbs. “That’s awesome,” I say sincerely. I guess I’m not the only one who’s a work in progress.

  Elsa May looks at me. “Now, there’s only one thing left.”

  I shrug. “What’s that?”

  She grabs the bottle of champagne. “Let’s pop this baby. Like you said, it’s my bachelorette party, after all.”

  * * *

  After meeting up with Mia and Jane at their apartment, I hand Elsa May an envelope. “The Amazing Bachelorette” it reads in the same font used by The Amazing Race show.

  Her mouth drops. “You turned my favorite show into a bachelorette party,” Elsa May says. “Color me impressed.”

  Mia looks over my crafty attempt. “Hey, I thought Dateline was your favorite show.”

  Elsa May smiles. “Second favorite. The Amazing Race has always been my number one favorite. I still contend that Lottie and I could have won the whole thing,” she says to me. “We’re the perfect combination.”

  “We can always audition in ten years,” I say, happy that Elsa May and I are slipping back into our best-friend shoes and that they still fit.

  Elsa May sticks out her tongue. “We’ll be cast as the old ladies.” She bats her hand. “Oh well. At least, we’d be the hot old ladies.”

  “I’ll let you open the first clue to the amazing bachelorette race, but not until you fill out the worksheet. Fake bachelorettes have rules, after all.”

  I hand Elsa May the piece of paper.

  She looks at it. “I’ll do this on one condition,” she says. “This is the other me that’s filling this out. The one who took the bar exam. The one who doesn’t have a baby.”

  Mia flips her magenta hair and looks at Elsa May. “Of course,” she says. “This is for the alternate Elsa May, the one who picked the other door. But we all know you picked the right one.”

  Elsa May nods. “I did, but tonight is still going to be epic.”

  I don’t even cringe when she says it. Okay, only a little bit.

  I hope that by the end of the night, I’m as confident as Elsa May that I picked the right door. Lord knows, I’ve spent a long time convincing myself I was. Maybe this time I actually will be.

  I hand Elsa May a pen.

  When Elsa May finishes writing, we all read over the worksheet together.

  DISCLAIMER: This is for Elsa May’s alternative life. She’s very happy with Thad and Birdie, and she’s just playing along.

  SIDENOTE: This sheet must be burned.

  Elsa May’s Dream Man:

  He’s NOT a lawyer. He thinks “tort” is a sweet confectionary dessert. He does not want to talk law in his free time. In fact, he’s broken the law many times and doesn’t believe in law in general. Of course, this all changed when he met me.

  He went from bad boy to doting boyfriend. What can we say: opposites attract.

  He charms everyone at my law firm’s Christmas parties. He gets off work early most nights and does the laundry and cooks me dinner.

  He can see himself as a stay-at-home dad. He totally supports my dream.

  How We Met:

  I gave him free legal advice after meeting serendipitously one night at a bar I normally would never go to.

  Dream Wedding:

  I will be in the best shape of my entire life. And not p
regnant. I will wear one of those dresses that people think are borderline inappropriate for a bride. It will be tight and white, and my Southern mother will cringe. My Southern relatives will scream from their graves. Bless their hearts.

  We will invite everyone and it will be a get down complete with a bourbon bar, shrimp ’n’ grits, and a whole lot of seersucker. My Yankee, bad-boy fiancé will oblige. We will take a year off and honeymoon across the globe before I get right back onto the partner track. Hey, I’m better at this fantasy stuff than I thought.

  “It’s perfect,” I say as I pull a card from an envelope. “Now for your first clue: ‘This lady knows how to keep her mouth shut. Come try on her favorite things. They’d be perfect for the honeymoon. Bonus points for pictures.’ ”

  Jane snaps her fingers. “I know. Victoria’s Secret.”

  Mia high-fives her. “Nice.”

  “Not that I support them or anything,” Jane says. “Talk about bad role models.”

  We all laugh.

  Elsa May admires the clue. “You came up with this all?” she asks.

  I nod. “Let’s go, but first—you’re forgetting one thing,” I say, placing the bachelorette crown on her head.

  Elsa May reaches up and fingers the rhinestones. “I’ve never felt so beautiful. Now, let’s get going. The clock is ticking.”

  * * *

  “We are a total sight, even in New York City, the land of sights,” I say. Our shoes and clothes are covered with a layer of Manhattan dirt and grime.

  “I can smell the champagne I spilled all over that bar,” I say.

  Mia laughs. “What’s a bachelorette party without a party foul?”

  Even I have to agree.

  “I loved it all,” Elsa May says. “This is even more fun than the actual Amazing Race show. Now, Lottie, what’s our next clue?”

  “This one is for the real you, not the lawyer engaged to the bad boy,” I say, pulling out the next envelope.

  Elsa May smiles as she tears it open and reads. “ ‘The view here is always the Mediterranean winter sky with over 2,500 stars.’ ”

  Mia and Jane look at each other. “The planetarium?” Jane asks. She’s a better actress than I thought and everything is going as I planned.