Dumping Billy

by Olivia Goldsmith

  “Wow,” Bina said. “I love your outfits.”

  Kate smiled. “You two do clean up well.”

  “Of course,” Brice said. “We’re gay.” With that he grabbed Bina’s arm. “But not for this afternoon.” He lowered his voice to a baritone. “This afternoon I’m devoted to you. Can’t keep my hands off you.” Bina actually smiled.

  “Shall we, honey?” Brice asked. Bina nodded. “Hmm. Who did your hair?” Kate heard him ask Bina, that “anything she can do I can do better” tone in his voice.

  “Sal Anthony. He has a little shop at the corner of Court and—”

  “Burn it down,” Brice ordered. “And we’ll see if we can’t soften it up a bit.”

  “He’s so bossy,” Kate said softly to Elliot.

  “Yeah. Isn’t it great?” Elliot asked.

  They got to St. Veronica’s and walked up the formidable stairs to the entrance of the church. Once inside, Kate indicated the way to the ladies’ room downstairs.

  “Follow me, princess,” Brice told Bina, and led her off to the basement.

  Coming in at the very last minute wasn’t a bad strategy, Kate thought. There was no time to meet and greet—and to be interrogated. Kate and Elliot left the foyer and took a place in the next-to-last pew. Soon Brice and Bina joined them. They tried to be unobtrusive, but by now everyone was waiting for the ceremony to begin, and with their entrance, heads turned. Then, to Kate’s relief, in only a moment the organ began to play the “Wedding March.”

  Bunny, a meringue of tulle and taffeta, began to make her way down the aisle on her father’s arm. There was the usual “oooh” from the guests. Oddly, Kate felt tears well up in her eyes. She’d never been very close to Bunny—she couldn’t honestly say she even liked her. But the tears were there nevertheless. She wondered if she was simply being empathetic for Bina, who must be finding this almost unbearable, but it felt far deeper than that.

  Kate blinked away the moistness, then took a chance and looked around at the other guests. She wondered if they had as many doubts and fears as she did about picking a mate for life. Certainly Bina and her other friends had talked of little else for many of the years they were in school together. Boys, and then young men, who was going steady, who was breaking up, marriages, and honeymoons were the fodder of many—maybe most—conversations. Yet despite all the talking and all the romantic notions, hopes, and dreams, Kate didn’t see intelligent or realistic choices being made, and she also didn’t see any marriages or relationships she envied.

  She wondered sometimes if her view was darkened by her early home life or her professional training. But the truth was that she remembered very little of her parents’ marriage and didn’t believe that it was bad or violent. Her father’s serious drinking had started after her mother’s death. So why was she so frightened? Was everyone frightened and they just hid it better?

  So what was Bunny doing now? She’d just met this guy. Was she simply on the rebound from whoever had dumped her? Or was she smitten, deep in that sex haze of infatuation that never seemed to last longer than several months? How could she be taking these steps so quickly down the aisle beside her father? Though a lapsed Catholic, Kate was still idealistic enough to believe marriage should be forever.

  Here, standing in St. Veronica’s watching Bunny meet the groom at the altar, she felt an uncomfortable combination of jealousy and fear: jealousy because she doubted she could give herself to Michael or any man without hesitation; fear because she wanted to and might lose her opportunity to do it. Though she had made up with Michael, his lack of compassion for Bina had made her look at him in a new way. Would he always dwell on his own issues and concerns and be insensitive to others? He had seemed sincere in his apology, but Kate felt it was important to watch him. Above all, she needed a partner with empathy for others.

  She sighed. Beside her, Elliot gave her a smile, then returned his gaze to Bunny. Maybe it was Manhattan. Here in Brooklyn, love seemed so much easier, Kate reflected. Young women met young men. They dated for a while and either broke up or made a commitment to make a commitment. Women pressed for marriage, and the men, albeit sometimes reluctantly, seemed eventually to fall into line. It was expected. And families, ever present in the background, pushed for it.

  Of course, there were the exceptions like Jack, but despite this glitch, Kate felt almost certain that he could get over the hump, have some fun in Hong Kong, and return to Bina, the woman he loved. But for how long, if they married, would they love each other? Looking at the older couples in the pews beside and ahead of her, Kate saw bored, middle-aged men and stoic or overly sentimental women. Many held handkerchiefs or tissues to their eyes. When Kate saw an older woman cry at a wedding—and she’d been to lots of weddings—she often thought they cried because unconsciously they remembered their own hopes and the subsequent disappointment that marriage had brought them.

  Kate stood there, between her two best friends and between two worlds, and realized that she was not only envious, but also very, very sad. Even if Michael wound up being the right man for her, she simply couldn’t imagine wearing the gown, she certainly wouldn’t be in a church, her father couldn’t walk her down any aisle, and it seemed impossible she’d feel the joy that she’d glimpsed on Bunny’s veiled face. Worst of all, she’d probably want Elliot as her matron of honor, which would cause all kinds of difficulties and hurt feelings among her old crowd.

  Kate had to smile at the thought. Of course, Elliot would love it. She looked over in his direction and saw that behind Bina, Elliot and Brice were discreetly holding hands. It was so sweet that Kate, without a tissue, again felt tears fill her eyes. She was so happy for Elliot, who had searched and searched for a wonderful partner. But it sometimes made her feel more lonely than she had felt in years.

  “Having fun?” Elliot asked in a whisper as he nudged her out of her reverie.

  “Just thinking,” Kate murmured.

  “Bad idea at any time,” Elliot advised. “Particularly bad during rituals.” He flashed Kate another quick smile. “And did I tell you, you look extremely fetching in that dress?”

  Kate smiled but put a finger over her curved lips. Religion was serious in Brooklyn. The ceremony was beginning. And so was the trouble.

  Even though she was not Catholic, and was standing yards and yards from the altar, the moment the priest began to speak, Bina began to sob. At first they were silent, shoulder-shaking sobs. For a few moments Kate didn’t notice them. But by the time Bunny and her groom had knelt and stood up and knelt again, Bina was audible halfway up the nave. Kate and Elliot eyed each other, then leaned forward and gave Brice a look. He already had one arm around Bina’s shoulder and shrugged in the traditional “what else can I do?” gesture.

  Kate looked toward the altar, desperate to think of options. A little crying at a wedding was acceptable, even mandatory, but this was getting out of hand. For no reason, her eyes focused on the incense-filled censer hanging from the hands of an altar boy. Really handy looking. For a moment she wished she could get hold of it and give a swing at Bina’s head. Not to crack it hard, of course, merely to knock some sense into it. It was going to be difficult enough to get through the reception without Bina blowing her cover now by making a spectacle of herself.

  Already a few heads had turned toward them. Kate smiled and nodded, wiping at her own eye as if acknowledging everyone’s tears of joy. “So beautiful,” she mouthed to someone’s mother. Brice, in a moment of brilliance, turned Bina to him and planted a kiss on her lips. For a few moments, Bina’s total surprise silenced her. Elliot, putting his arm around her neck from the other side, discreetly covered her mouth with his hand. Bina took the warning and they all watched as the couple stood up, knelt yet again, then stood up and faced each other.

  “Is this a wedding or an aerobics class?” Elliot asked. Kate almost laughed out loud, but just then the couple got to “love, honor, and cherish,” and Bina cut loose, crying louder than the baby somewhere up front.r />
  Before everything got completely out of control, Brice reached over, turned back Elliot’s cuff, and removed a straight pin. Then, without a moment of hesitation, he stuck it into Bina’s upper arm.

  Kate, shocked, was not as shocked as Bina, who yipped, shut up, and looked from Elliot on one side to Brice on the other. Brice just leaned forward, whispered in her ear, and, magically, the crying stopped.

  At last the service was over, the bride and groom kissed, and Brice and Elliot had to let go of each other’s entwined hands to hold Bina’s down so she didn’t cover her face and begin to sob again. “Hey, look,” Kate said, taking Bina by the shoulders. “Pull yourself together. This isn’t the worst part. The worst part is about to begin.”

  “Oh, boy!” Elliot said. “Will there be a family feud?”

  “With guns?” Brice added hopefully.

  Kate ignored their remarks. “We have to get Bina out of here before the rest of the rabble,” she told them.

  “You aren’t kidding. Just look at her.” Elliot tilted his head toward Bina.

  Kate had to agree. Bina’s makeup was mostly smeared off her face, and mascara had run down her cheeks. Kate gestured, and Elliot tapped Brice on the leg.

  “Time to go now,” he told Brice.

  “No fucking kidding,” Brice responded. “The last thing Bina needs right now is to have rice land on her face. It would stick.”

  Elliot nodded, his face scrunched up at the thought. Then they all crept quietly out of the pew, out of the foyer, and out of the church.

  They were lucky to snag a passing cab—not so easy in a borough dependent on car services. They piled out at Carl’s of Carroll Gardens, where everyone in Brooklyn, it seemed, had their wedding reception.

  “Well, here we go,” Kate said as they stood before the entrance. She gave Elliot a nervous smile, and they linked their arms and went through the revolving doors together, followed by Brice and Bina. Fortunately the reception area was empty except for a few bustling waiters who had seen a lot worse than Bina’s ruined face.

  “Where’s the bathroom?” Brice whispered in Kate’s ear. “I’m going to take Little Miss Three Mile Island in for a makeup makeover. She’s had a serious meltdown.”

  “It’s down the hall to the left,” said Kate. She had been to this banquet hall many times in the past. Maybe a dozen people she knew had gotten married here, but it would be a quiet day at Andrew Country Day School before she ever would. Assembly-line wedding, with the same music, the same guests, the same MC, the same cake. “Take her away,” Kate said. “And Brice, darling, please be gentle.”

  “I’ll do my best,” he said, and started to push Bina from behind. “Come on, honey. Time for some surgery from Dr. Brice.”

  Kate heard Bina’s nasal protesting voice trail off as she and Brice disappeared down the hall. “Well,” she said, turning to Elliot. “Are you ready for your first Brooklyn reception?”

  “Oh, Katie! This is going to be so much fun,” Elliot said, grinning wickedly.

  “Cut the ‘Katie’ before you get your tongue cut out,” Kate warned him. “I’ve got a mission. Let’s see where we are supposed to sit, change it if we can, and then avoid everyone until we’ve regrouped.”

  “Sure. I’m happy just to gape.” Elliot craned his neck almost the way Linda Blair had in The Exorcist. “Where do they get these smoked mirrors? Are they left over from the sixties or can you still buy them?” he asked, his voice low. It was kind of like Halloween in Greenwich Village. Then he looked down at his watch. “Kate, I’m going to look around some, then maybe check on Brice and see what he’s doing to Bina. I’ll be back soon. You wait here for the resurrection.” He sauntered down the hall.

  Once alone, Kate walked over to the gift table and placed her box from Tiffany’s right in the center. She knew it wouldn’t be the only one there wrapped in distinctive robin’s-egg blue, but she was fairly certain the beautiful cut-glass bowl would be the only gift that actually came from Tiffany’s. Those blue boxes were often more highly prized than the contents they carried and were passed around over and over, filled with gifts from Bed Bath & Beyond or Pottery Barn.

  The reception area was beginning to fill up. After about fifteen minutes, Kate began to wonder why Elliot hadn’t come back with Brice and Bina. She could hear more cars pulling up outside. It wasn’t only Bina who would be tortured at this event. Kate was definitely not in the mood to deal with all these people—well-meaning or not—asking her about her “love life” and whether “wedding bells” were in her future, too. People from the old neighborhood neither thought deeply personal questions were off-limits nor took notice of how she had managed to add a “Dr.” before her name. All everyone here would talk about was when there would be a “Mrs.” in front.

  She put all this out of her mind because she had a goal to achieve. She had to get over to the table where the seating plans were and make sure her party of four was at the same table. Then she had to get into the closed banquet hall and move the place cards on that table so that Bina would be tightly cordoned off from attacking hyenas, the type that tried to take down a straggler or the weakest member in the herd.

  She approached the assignment table with complete authority. If she didn’t, she might get stopped by one of the staff. They were used to unmarried women putting themselves beside bachelors, bitter aunts removing themselves from tables with their relatives, even parents who moved their kids to other tables so they could eat dinner in peace. Kate quickly spotted her card: “Miss Katie Jameson and guest,” table nine. She shook her head. Not only had the “Dr.” been omitted, but she didn’t even get her full name. And she hated being called Katie, but Bunny and her mother wouldn’t care about such subtleties.

  Two cards above her own was “Miss Bina Horowitz and Mr. Jack Weintraub.” That was something Kate knew she couldn’t afford to let Bina see. Bunny’s mother obviously hadn’t remembered about Jack’s trip. Kate picked up the card, turned it over, and, using a black marker she had put in her purse for this very purpose, wrote, “Miss Bina Horowitz and guest” on the back of the card and replaced it. She hoped that Bina wouldn’t turn the card over and that Brice would be smart enough to pocket it.

  So far, so good, Kate thought. Next, and last, was getting to the actual table to manipulate the place cards. If Bina was seated next to Bev or Barbie, she wouldn’t last five minutes. Of course, they might be seated in the traditional boy-girl-boy boring arrangement. Kate sighed, thinking of one more dinner beside Bobby, Barbie’s excessively dull husband. She walked to the closed entrance of the banquet hall, and as luck would have it, a hassled-looking waiter came out. She grabbed at the door closing behind him as he departed with an armful of linens and stepped into the room.

  A sign read “Tromboli-Beckmen Wedding Saturday.” Under it was “Eisenberg Bar Mitzvah Sunday.” Kate surveyed the room. The interior of the hall was Bunny Tromboli’s dream come true, amazingly close to Kate’s nightmare. The decorations, the centerpieces, the candles—everything was a middle-class version of photographs Bunny had been clipping and saving from society pages since she was ten. All of the Bitches except Kate had done the same. Kate sighed deeply. Whenever she had allowed herself to envision the elements of a dream wedding, the major emphasis had been on the groom, not the flatware.

  Yet despite the inconceivably garish tablecloths and place settings—hot pink and orange, a combination Kate saw no use for in either clothes or furnishings, along with black dinnerware and centerpieces that looked like patent leather with flourishes of net—there was something lovely, calm . . . even magical about a vacant room prepared for but empty of revelers. She allowed herself to pause for a moment to take it all in. Then the colors and her mission moved her forward. She found table nine, looked it over, and moved the cards so that the lineup on their side of the table was Elliot, then Kate, then Bina, and then Brice. She had to juggle Bobby and Johnny, Barbie’s and Bev’s husbands, to get it to work out, but in a few moments it was
done. She pulled out the four chairs for her party and leaned the backs against the table—a very déclassé way to show the seats were taken and to ensure that nobody reedited her editing.

  The noise of new arrivals outside the banquet hall had gotten much louder, and then, without warning, the doors swung open. The guests began to pour in. Kate, not wanting to be found alone in the room, a target worse than a lonely duck before the hunter’s blind, decided to make her way out to the terrace that ran along the east wall of the room. She would wait outside, get a breath of air and a bit of privacy before the onslaught. Once her crew came back, there would be enough people and enough noise to allow her to slip back inside, find the Trouble Trio, and begin the minimum required mingling. She’d mingled at dozens of weddings before, and she could do it again, she told herself.

  Out on the terrace, Kate had a moment to reflect. She was overwhelmingly glad that she had not invited Michael to the affair. She would have been self-conscious and, although she shouldn’t be, rather ashamed. The clothes, the accents, the loudness, the . . . well, the vulgarity of it all, made her wince. She was used to it, and loved many of these people, but she did not want to have to translate them for Michael or anyone else. At the same time, she wasn’t enjoying how much Elliot and Brice were enjoying their Brooklyn visit. It was too much like a visit to Great Adventure Safari Park. They were observing the wildlife with the detachment of another species.

  Kate peeked into the room. It wouldn’t take long for it to fill. And then Elliot and Brice would get to talk to the creatures they had been observing at church. Somehow, while it was all right for Kate to think of these people as strange, she didn’t like the idea of outsiders observing them in that way, not even Elliot and Brice. Yes, she reflected again, it was the right thing to do to leave Michael out, and how on earth would she have managed Bina without the help of the guys?

  She continued to watch as people entered, rearranged their own place cards, hugged or kissed one another, and went for the drinks. Even through the windows, she could hear them speculating about the estimated per plate cost of the upcoming meal, where the bride had bought the dress, whether there was a bun in the oven . . . and then Kate saw Elliot, Brice, and Bina enter the room. She had to admit it: Bina did look a thousand times more sophisticated with the terrific makeup and more gentle upswept hairstyle Brice’s lengthy ministrations had created. Kate reached for the handle of the French door to let herself in, only to find that it had locked itself behind her. She tried the second one, then the third. All locked.