Something Blue - Emily Giffin [44]
"Go ahead." Jeremy beamed.
"Ask me what?"
"We want you to be a bridesmaid," Lauren chirped. "Because you've always been like a big sister to me." She looked at Marcus and explained further, "Darcy used to babysit for me."
"I never babysat for you. Rachel did," I said.
"Well, true," Lauren said, her smile fading slightly. Mention of Rachel sombered up the room. I liked the effect—liked reminding everyone of my suffering. But the result was short-lived. Lauren's grin quickly returned in full force. "But you were always there helping her. You were so fun."
"Thanks," I said. "I try."
"So will you?"
"Will I what?" I asked, pretending to be puzzled.
"Be a bridesmaid?"
"Oh. Yeah. Sure thing."
Lauren clapped and squealed. "Goody! And I want your help. I need your help."
She could say that again, I thought. And sure enough, she did. "I need you to help because you're so good at this stuff."
"Why? Because I'm the wedding expert now that I just spent almost a year planning one?" Another reminder of my pain.
Lauren flinched, but then recovered. "No. Not that. Just because you have the most excellent taste." She turned to Marcus again. "Incredible taste. Nobody has taste like Darcy."
This much was true.
Marcus nodded and then took another swallow of beer.
"So I need your help," she continued excitedly.
Okay. Let's start with those jeans. And the Keds. And your bangs.
I looked at my mother, hoping she was thinking the same thing. She was usually right on board with the Lauren criticism, recently ranting about her application of blush: two round circles of pink missing her cheekbones altogether. Not that Lauren had much in the way of cheekbones. She wasn't bringing the best genes to the table. But clearly my mother was not in her usual critical mode; she was hypnotized by the rosy glow of a new wedding to plan. She looked at Jeremy and Lauren adoringly. "Lauren has been dying to call you. But Jeremy and I convinced her to wait to tell you in person."
"I'm so glad you did," I said flatly.
"You were right, Mom," Lauren said.
Mom? Had I heard that right? I looked at Lauren. "So you're calling her 'Mom' now?" Pretty soon she was going to lay claim to my mother's jewelry and china.
Lauren giggled, pressed Jeremy's hand to her cheek in a nauseating display of affection. It looked like a bad Kodak commercial, the kind that's supposed to make you cry. "Yeah. I've felt that way about her for a long time, but now it feels right to call her that."
"I see," I said, with what I hoped was maximum disapproval. Then I glanced over at Marcus, who was finishing his beer.
"You want another?" I asked, standing for the kitchen.
"Sure," he said.
I gave him a look. "Come with me."
Marcus followed me into the kitchen, where I went off on my family. "How could they go on and on about this wedding after what I just went through? Can you believe how insensitive they're all being? I wanted to tell them about us getting married. Now it just doesn't feel right. Probably because I don't even have a ring," I said. I shouldn't have shifted the blame to Marcus like that, but I couldn't help it. Casting the blame net wide is just my natural instinct when I'm upset.
Marcus just looked at me, and then said, "Can I get another beer?"
I opened the refrigerator with such force that a bottle of Heinz ketchup flew from the side shelf onto the floor.
"Everything all right in there?" my mother asked from the living room.
"Just dandy!" I said, as Marcus replaced the ketchup and grabbed another beer.
I took a deep breath, and we returned to the living room, where my mother and Lauren were talking about the guest list.
"Two hundred seems just about right," Lauren said.
"I think you're going to realize that two hundred is the bare minimum. It adds up fast. If your parents invite twenty couples, and we invite twenty couples, that's eighty guests right there," my mother said.
"True," Lauren said. "And I'm going to want to invite a lot of people from Good Haven."
"Well, that should cut down on the liquor bill,"