Jackie Rose - Slim Chance

Yes, sensitivity to my friends’ feelings would be crucial, now more than ever, especially since none of them had ever really managed to hang on to a boyfriend for more than thirty seconds, and in Theo’s case, maybe twenty. Nicole, most of all, would be the hardest hit, I predicted, since she hadn’t even had a boyfriend, yet alone been laid, since that brief (four-and-a-half-day) dalliance with her anthropology T.A. almost three years ago. And even though Nicole and I usually enjoy trading insults, this certainly wasn’t the time to rub my prenuptial bliss in her face.

“Oh, I’m just teasing you, Nic,” I said. “Everyone knows that thing doesn’t work for shit and that Suzanne Somers had liposuction anyway. Nobody has thighs like that naturally.” Nicole smiled wanly and had another bite of pie.

Even if I was the only one with a long-term prospect at this point, I’d spent five years watching them (except Nicole) flit more or less happily from man to man. On occasion, I’d even envied them their freedom. But now it was easy to see how they might be envying me. I was really going to have to try and be more compassionate.

Kimby took a sip of her grande skinny hazelnut-pumpkin latte and cleared her throat. “Let’s change the subject.”

“Yes, let’s,” Theo said, obviously disappointed that things weren’t going to get any uglier.

Annie returned from the kitchen with another round. “Fill us in about the plans. I need details!”

“Well, as Nicole so indelicately pointed out, we don’t really have that much time to pull this thing together if I want to be a June bride,” I said. “And things are already getting dicey.”

“You mean with Bruce?” Nicole perked up, hopeful.

“No,” I said, glaring at her. “Just with the plans. First off, the date we wanted was Saturday the tenth of June, but it’s booked everywhere….”

“Hotels? Churches? What are we talking about?” asked Kimby impatiently.

“My mom wanted a church…”

“Of course,” said Annie, a lapsed Catholic herself.

“…but Bruce and I insisted on a hotel or an inn. Thank God Bertie agreed, because they’ll pretty much be paying for the whole thing….”

“Uh-oh,” said Kimby softly.

“World War Three, anyone?” Theo said. Kimby bowed her blond head and looked at her lap, her narrow shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

“Yeah well, whatever, but she’s been on the phone all week trying to find a place. I don’t think it’s going to be all that bad, you know. Bertie may be a lot of things, but cheap isn’t one of them,” I finished defensively.

“Did she know Bruce was going to propose?” Annie asked.

“No…”

“Did she freak?” Nicole always wanted the gory details.

“It wasn’t as bad as we thought, really. When we told her she seemed totally confused at first, but then she made a big show of it. I think she was in shock, completely overwhelmed. Who could blame her? I’m stealing away her only son.”

“That’s one way to look at it,” Annie said. “But hopefully she sees it as gaining another daughter.”

“Not this bitch,” said Theo. “But your optimism is refreshing, Annie.”

“Well, she did force herself to hug me,” I continued. “Bruce doesn’t believe me, but I swear it was the first time the woman’s ever actually touched me. Can you believe that? I didn’t realize it till I felt her bony ribs. She was even crying a bit. I wouldn’t say it was exactly nice, because I was uncomfortable as all hell, I won’t lie to you, but it was…I don’t know…almost normal.”

I was censoring, but just a bit. The first thing Bertie did when we told her we were getting married was give Bruce’s dad The Look, and then she excused herself politely to go see to the roast. I was immediately pissed off for Bruce’s sake, but he seemed more amused by it than hurt, thank God. When she came back out of the kitchen a few minutes later, she was crying—that was when she hugged me—but she smelled like onions, and her finger was bleeding.

“I don’t think she was really all that surprised,” I lied. “Bruce’s dad knew about it the whole time, so he was probably acting like a freak for weeks beforehand. I’m sure she knew something was up.”

“Yes, but could she really have expected this?” Theo sighed. “Her precious Bruce, heir to the Fulbright Jam and Jelly empire, marrying a sloppy Italian wench from Brooklyn. Your mother got the prize in this scenario, my dear. Bruce is like your mother’s knight in shining armour—he fixes her toilet, he does her taxes, and he saved you from the shame of spinsterhood. This wedding is the answer to all her prayers. But what do you do for Bertie?”

“What?”

“I mean, what does she get out of you? Out of your relationship with Bruce? Nothing but a headache, I bet. You spare the maid from doing Bruce’s laundry, that’s about it.”

“That’s not true,” I pointed out. “Bruce does his own laundry. And mine.”

“How silly of me. Of course he does. Just remember though, Bertie’s got plenty of daughters already, so it’s not like she needs our young Martha Stewart over here to accompany her on afternoon shopping dates or to take care of her when she gets old. This is probably a living nightmare for the woman.”

I was incensed. “For your information, Theo, Bruce likes doing laundry. And Bertie called me the next night and we talked about what kind of wedding we want. So she’s obviously accepting this.”

“Don’t be naive. She’s got a few tricks up her sleeve, yet,” he said.

“What about his sisters?” asked Kimby. Bruce’s sisters were a source of endless amusement for all who knew of them. Even Morgan listened with bated breath to tales of their tantrums and addictions.

“His sisters were okay about it, I guess. They just sort of nodded and smiled. Except for Brooke…”

“Is that the oldest one?”

“Yes. She’s the one who wanted to go to help free Tibet until she found out that it was in Asia.”

Everyone nodded, remembering.

“Well, Brooke kind of seemed like she was about to cry at any moment, and she kept staring at The Ring!”

Annie slapped the table. “That jealous bitch!” she said, with an uncharacteristic touch of venom. “She thinks it should be hers.”

“Bruce’s dad, though—he’s the best. He’s just so happy for us about this. It’s like he has a new reason to live or something….”

Annie just wanted more details. “And what about the dress, and flowers, and…”

“She’s only been engaged for a week, for chrissake,” Nicole interrupted.

“Actually, I do have a few ideas,” I said, reaching into my bag. Thankfully, there’s an excellent magazine store in the lobby of the Kendra White building, so I’d already amassed quite a stack of reference materials. “Martha Stewart Weddings, Bridal Guide, In Style Weddings, Bride—I can’t get enough! I swear, I’m going to keep them all in business this year!” I said, and put the stack on the table.

Nicole rolled her eyes, but grabbed Martha Stewart Weddings before anyone else could. “What a hideous cake,” she said of the picture on the cover.

“Oh, please!” shrieked Theo. “It’s fabulous! Marzipan is so hard to work with. You just don’t get it—it’s supposed to look like Wedgewood china. You know, you could do something like this, Evie.”

“Let’s worry about the cake later,” I said wisely. “For now, let’s turn to the pages I’ve marked for bridesmaids’ dresses. Oh, you’re all going to be so gorgeous, I can’t wait!”

“Do I get to be a bridesmaid?” Theo clapped his hands. “I’d look precious in that one—I have a flatter stomach than all of you!”