Good Enough (The Enough Series)

by Taryn Steele

  “Yup. I haven’t said anything to my mom or Lily yet to avoid any bloodshed at the shower. But just so you know, if they ask me if I knew I’m telling them the truth. It’s just ironic timing your mom asks me to come over to pick up a gift at her apartment on my lunch break and the shower invitation is big and bright on her fridge. She uses any excuse to come to our house to see you, and this time she has me come to her. Understand where I’m coming from?”

  “She is unbelievable,” he says, with bright white knuckles gripping the steering wheel tighter and tighter. I feel bad for telling him. I’m not trying to make him feel bad or put added pressure on him but I’m not about to keep shit from him either. “Unfortunately I think your theory is right,” he confesses.

  I walked in to the clubhouse, slowly opening the door and peeking my head in trying to be funny. Everyone erupts in to a fit of smiles and cheers for me. It was completely overwhelming. Looking over the large room there had to be about fifty or sixty people here. I saw my family, Jameson’s family, old family friends, my close girlfriends and even a few co-workers. I had no idea they were invited. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Marcie waving her arms at Jameson to get his attention. I find it funny she has herself and her family in the back corner table of the room. My mother comes charging at me with a pinned floral corsage of some type. I’m trying to have a conversation with my old hairdresser Debbie and my mother is grabbing at my shirt stabbing me with a pin unsuccessfully pinning this corsage I do not want to wear.

  “Mom! Mom, I got it!” I tell her in frustration because she clearly doesn’t give two shits that I just walked in the door and I’m having a conversation. She looks at me with hatred in her eyes, drops the corsage and walks away. Here we go. Great fucking start.

  My bridesmaids come to my rescue, hugging me and bringing me a glass of punch. They usher me to a long table aligned with an array of food. “We have a rowdy hungry crowd. We were told no one eats until you get here so if you don’t want to be yelled at, dig in,” Karolyn tells me.

  I grab a small spoonful of salad and pasta, and find a seat at a table with Grandma Nowal. I know she won’t yell at me. I see Jameson is still across the room being occupied by his mother.

  Lily comes and sits next to me and whispers in my ear, “Your future mother-in-law has been a complete pill since she got here.”

  I’m not surprised. I haven’t even been here for ten minutes and I’m getting shit already. “She never once offered any help for today,” she adds.

  “Are you surprised?” I ask her.

  “Actually, I kind of am,” she admits. “I’ve been trying to get Jameson’s attention since he walked in, but Marcie won’t let him go. The guys are waiting for him at your parent’s house.”

  I just got here and I already want to go home. Isn’t this supposed to be a happy memory for me? I hear everyone talking around me but I don’t comprehend any of it. I sit in my chair and poke and play with my food. I can already feel a headache setting in and I know I’m stuck here for at least three more hours.

  “Hillary, we’re ready whenever you are. You have a lot of presents to open so we should start even if everyone is still eating.” Jameson’s cousin Amy, tells me.

  “Okay, let’s get the show on the road then,” I say, as I push myself out of my chair.

  Jameson comes up behind me, wraps his arms around my waist sinking his face in to my neck. I love this feeling. He whispers in my ear to have a good time and he’ll be back later. The entire room erupts in to a loud “Awwwwwww!” I can’t help but laugh.

  THE AFTERNOON WAS A LONG ONE, but it was nice to see so many people in my life show up for my bridal shower. We received so many gifts we had to fill up Lily and Karolyn’s car. I’m pretty sure we received five sets of steak knives in a block with a cutting board, and we won’t have to worry about baking sheets for a while. We have three boxes each with a set of eight sheets.

  Marcie didn’t approach me once the entire time I was there. Jameson’s grandmother, his aunts and cousins all came up to me, hugged me and said hello but not Marcie. I’m not sure why either.

  Lily asked me while we were packing up gifts if I had been surprised by the shower or not. I didn’t reply right away. She could tell by my face and asked me ‘who spilled.’

  “No one spilled,” I said. “I saw the invitation at Marcie’s on her refrigerator.”

  Lily was beyond pissed, and thinks Marcie did it on purpose after I told her the entire story. Lily marched over to my mother, stomping her feet, swinging her arms back and forth. Shouting at the top of her lungs, “Hillary knew about the shower! Marcie invited her over to pick up a package and had the invitation on her damn refrigerator!” She spills it all to my mom, and everyone within ear shot, including Marcie, her sisters, her nieces and Grandma Michaels.

  There is dead silence. My mother turns her evil eyes to Marcie but Marcie plays dumb.

  “What?” Marcie says, acting as if she doesn’t have a clue.

  “All the effort that Lily and I put in to this shower and you left the invitation on your refrigerator for Hillary to see. Your only child is getting married and you seek out to ruin the bridal shower. A shower for your future daughter-in-law. Your sisters and your mother asked as soon as they RSVP’d how they could help, what could they make, anything, but you didn’t even do that. Do you hate her or something?” My mother questions as she steps closer towards Marcie.

  “You’re one to talk, lady. Coming from the woman who called her own daughter a whore when she was a teenager. Coming from the woman who is jealous of her daughter. Coming from the woman who charges her daughter rent while she’s trying to save money for a wedding. Give me a break. It was a simple accident.” Marcie shoots back.

  I can hear footsteps coming closer and closer to me but I’m frozen in place. I can’t move. The room is starting to spin … and then …it all goes pitch black.

  I CAN FEEL THE WARMTH OF A HAND rubbing my back, the softness of cotton on my cheek. I’m quite comfortable where I am. As I start to stir awake and open my eyes I see Jameson smiling down at me. It takes me a minute to realize I’m lying in bed at my parent’s house.

  “How are you feeling beautiful?”

  “Why am I in bed at my parent’s? Did I fall asleep? Why didn’t you just have me sleep in the car?

  “I wish it was that simple, but you passed out at the shower,” he admits and the sick truth comes back to hit me in the face.

  I push myself up in the bed and stare straight ahead looking out one of the windows watching tree branches blowing in the light breeze. I remember my mom yelling, and Marcie, and then Marcie yelling at my mom. The insults, I remember them throwing insults back and forth at each other.

  I turned my head to look at Jameson. He had a look of pity on his face. I didn’t want pity. I want answers. I want to know why the two women in my life who are supposed to have encouraging major roles in my life seem to fucking hate me and want nothing more than to hurt me.

  Tears start to wet my cheeks. Jameson pulls me back to him, holding me gently. “Let’s go home,” he whispers in my ear. I don’t say a word, I don’t need to. He knows what I need.

  “You don’t deserve happiness.”

  June 28, 2003

  THE LAST TWO WEEKS I’VE DONE ALL I can to avoid contact with my mother and Marcie. I thought I was going to lose my shit when my mother tried taking over the seating chart, but that wasn’t when it happened. Marcie said if she had to pay for half of the rehearsal dinner she was ordering food from Taco Bell and having it back at her apartment.

  That’s when I lost my shit. Thankfully, I didn’t have to say to Jameson “We are not having our rehearsal dinner at your mothers with food from Taco Bell.” I told him from now until the wedding day any bullshit that came out of his mother’s mouth he had to deal with and I would deal with my mother’s bullshit. It was just easier that way instead of doubling our stress levels dealing with both of them.

  My mom wants to ke
ep adding people to the guest list even though all of the invitations went out weeks ago. I don’t even know these people she’s talking about. When I ask her all she says is, “I work with her. You met her once.” Then why the fuck would I want her at my wedding? I hadn’t seen some guests in years but, according to her, it didn’t matter because she was paying for the party. Her money, her party, her friends, not mine. I told her Jameson and I have been scrimping pennies left and right to pay for this wedding and I wasn’t paying for people I didn’t know. She said she would pay for them. This event isn’t about me at all, it’s all about her.

  I have to leave it up to Jameson to talk to his parents about splitting the cost of the rehearsal dinner. I’m used to parents who are married who can’t stand each other, not divorced parents who haven’t been around each other in years. The divorce between Jameson’s parents was not a pretty scene. In a nutshell, Marcie had kept Jameson from seeing Rick.

  When it was Jameson’s weekend with his father, Marcie would tell him that his dad wasn’t coming and put him in his bedroom. When Rick would show up to pick up Jameson, Marcie would tell him that Jameson didn’t want to see him. It came to the point where Rick had to bring police assistance. This put a huge strain on their father-son relationship.

  The hard thing was, I was the one who had to tell Jameson. Rick had told me about it, but not Jameson, because he didn’t want to be “that guy.” That guy who tells his child things to build himself up, in order to bring the other parent down. All the years of his mother bashing his father, Rick still kept his mouth shut the whole time. I couldn’t let it continue. I had to tell Jameson. But when, where? How do I word it?

  “Jameson, can I talk to you about something?”

  “Sure,” he says.

  “Do you remember the night we drove out to see your dad to play pool?” He just nods. No words. “Well while we you were in the bathroom I was outside talking to your dad and he told me something.”

  “Oh yeah, what did he say?”

  “He told me about something that happened a long time ago when you were little. When your mom and dad were divorced and shared custody… on the weekends your mom used to tell your dad that you didn’t want to see him. Right before your dad would show up she would tell you your dad wasn’t coming because he didn’t love you and put you in your room before he arrived. He ended up having to arrive with the police for assistance.”

  His face is blank. The back of his heads drops further into the pillow, his eyes roll back and then they close. He takes a deep breath and then it happens, a single tear rolls down his cheek. This is bad! Jameson doesn’t cry!

  “Jameson—” I say softly.

  “Don’t… Just stop… I don’t want to talk about this… Not now.”

  Oh shit! What have I done? Why did I tell him? Why now? He rolls on his side away from me, takes a deep breath and then nothing. Not a single word for the rest of the night. He’s never not said “goodnight” to me.

  There’s no way he wouldn’t marry me over this… right?

  “You won’t win this fight.”

  July 4, 2003

  THE DAY BEFORE THE WEDDING.

  I’ve been tossing and turning for hours, so has Jameson. I turn to look at the clock for what feels like the ten millionth time. It says 3:07 a.m. I think it’s time to give up on getting any sleep tonight. I hear a light snore come from Jameson.

  I decide to go downstairs and go through the final wedding checklist. After foolishly dropping that bomb on Jameson last night, I hope he still wants to marry me. I decide to keep myself busy with some light housework, emailing the wedding coordinator at the Marriott for the reception details one last time, and coffee. I will need lots of coffee at this point.

  In between, I hop back and forth to my computer checking my work email. I want to make sure my out of office assistant message is working. Scrolling through, I see multiple contractors mentioning voicemails they have left me. I know for certain I changed my voicemail message letting them know I would be out of the office for over a week and to contact my salesperson Marianne. I grab a pen and a piece of paper so I can take notes and forward them to Marianne if necessary.

  I hear my computer make a dinging sound and it jostles me awake. I hadn’t even realized I fell asleep face down in paperwork. I look at the time on my computer screen, it says 7:14 a.m. My computer dings again. I look up and see Marianne is responding to my emails I forwarded her. The first one I open I notice has no subject.

  To: hillarynowal@sslighting.com

  From: marianne@sslighting.com

  July 4, 2003 07:11 a.m.

  Good Morning Hillary,

  You are such an awesome sales coordinator but why the hell are you working? Tomorrow is your wedding day! Stop it!

  -Marianne

  To: marianne@sslighting.com

  From: hillarynowal@sslighting.com

  July 4, 2003 07:21 a.m.

  Good morning to you too!

  If people knew how to listen to my voicemail or read my out of office assistant I wouldn’t have to be working the day before my wedding. I don’t want anything to slip through the cracks. Plus I couldn’t sleep anyway. Only a few more things and I’ll stop. I promise!

  See you tomorrow!

  -Hillary

  DOING LAUNDRY, PACKING CLOTHES and makeup, responding to emails, forwarding emails and I hear footsteps above my head. He’s awake. Will he talk to me or ignore me? My heart is racing like it’s at the Talladega Super Speedway. I decide to keep my head down, finish up my work and let him make the first move. His normal morning routine is pee, coffee, outside for a smoke and then it depends on the day. So, let’s see what today brings. I try to concentrate on work and keep a close ear on what Jameson is doing.

  Toilet flush! Yes! Now wait… Reply to the damn email, Hillary. Focus.

  I heard a coffee cup come off the shelf! Yes! Calm down.

  What’s he going to do next? He’s not a morning person until at least thirty minutes after he’s woken up. Add the shit I threw at him last night, no sleep and we’re getting married tomorrow, I’m royally fucked! I’m not saying a fucking word. I’ll sit here like a good girl and wait until he approaches me.

  I can hear him stirring his coffee. Where he goes next is what scares me, because if he goes outside for a cigarette he has to walk past me. If he ignores me I might just fall to pieces. I decide to type my emails like a mad woman and hold my breath until I either hear or see his next move.

  Typing diligently, I hear his footsteps getting closer and closer. Out of the corner of my eye I see him standing next to the dining room table; he’s reaching for his cigarettes. I focus my eyes back on the computer screen. He takes three steps and he’s standing behind me.

  “Good morning,” he says and kisses the top of my head.

  “Good morning,” I say quietly, and watch him go outside. I let out a long breath I didn’t even realize I was holding. Tension is finally releasing from my shoulders, I’m so relieved he spoke to me.

  I look at the clock that now says 8:33 a.m. and panic. Lily is going to be here in ninety minutes to pick me up to get my nails done and I need a shower. I contemplate going outside to see if Jameson wants to talk but I decide against it. He just woke up and is still working on his first cup of coffee. I think its best that I take my shower and give him time to settle in to the morning.

  As I’m bent over shaving my legs I hear a knock on the door. “Can we temporarily forget about last night and enjoy our wedding and honeymoon?” I hear Jameson say over the rush of water pounding down at me.

  “Babe, I’m sorry. I don’t know why on earth I chose to come out with that last night, of all nights,” I admit.

  Jameson catches me off guard while I’m shaving my legs and slaps my wet ass. I yelp, not just from being caught off guard, but with pleasure. I turn around and he’s smiling. God, that puts my heart and mind at ease immediately. I turn around, hold his face in my wet hands and kiss him on the lips. “You be
tter hurry up. Lily is on her way.”

  Shit!

  “Okay, I’m moving. I don’t want to have a cut up vagina on my wedding night. I need to trim that beauty nice and neat for ya, lover.” He laughs so loud I swear the neighbors might have heard him. I don’t care how loud he is, just the fact that he’s laughing puts the pieces of my almost broken heart back together.

  Once I’m out of the shower I swear I look like a chicken on the loose. I am running at warp speed in ten different directions. I have an outfit for the rehearsal, shoes for the rehearsal, an outfit to wear in the morning while I get my hair and makeup done, shoes for the morning, outfit for the morning after the wedding. There is so much to remember. I don’t want to forget anything but Lily and I can’t be late for our nail appointment.

  “Hil’, Lily’s here,” Jameson shouts. “If you think you forgot anything just call me and I’ll bring it on the way to the rehearsal.” I thank him, kiss him, and then tell him I’ll meet him at the church at five o’clock. He gives me a wink making me feel a little bit better about our awful topic of conversation last night.

  I’m lucky that Lily found Maggie to do our nails because she is also doing our makeup for the wedding. I had my makeup consultation with her a couple of weeks ago and I loved it. The foundation didn’t feel heavy. I didn’t look like a whore working my corner. It was just right.

  We spend almost two hours getting our nails looking French manicured to perfection. Maggie also had us stay a few extra minutes to make sure our nails were completely dry. She knew we had more running around to do after and didn’t want to take any risk they might smudge.

  Next stop was the bakery.

  Mallove’s bakery was more of a dessert bakery. I didn’t see as many breads and rolls, but that’s fine, that’ not what I’m here for today anyway. Lily and I rush to the large glass display of desserts and start drooling on the spot. The grey haired old gentleman behind the counter is already laughing at us over our ooooohhhs and aaaaahhhs. He introduces himself to us as the owner and asks us what we need help with. Lily immediately chimes in letting him know we’re looking for a variety for my rehearsal dinner tonight. He points out his favorites, grabs a box and we start choosing a variety of mini cakes, eclairs, and cookies.