The Maid of Honor

“No, no, no, she said peach flowers on the cake not yellow. Peach! Just fix the order, because she will kill one of us if this isn’t right in one week.” I slammed down the phone for what seemed like the twelfth time today. “I can’t believe I’m wasting an entire weeks worth of vacation on this shit.”

“It was your choice, Lizzy; you could have told her no.”

“No, I could not have. How do you tell your best friend, ‘I’m sorry, honey, I do love you, but I just can’t be your maid of honor’?”

“You say, ‘I’m sorry, honey, I do love you, but I just can’t be your maid of honor.’”

“Very funny, but it’s not that simple.”

“Everything is that simple if you let it be.” Colin thought that life would be a lot simpler for everyone if we all did what we wanted without considering other people’s feelings. Obviously, none of his relationships last very long. If I weren’t his sister, it would be almost impossible for me to live with him.

“I can’t do that, Colin. She’s my best friend.”

“Oh, whatever, you could if you really wanted to.” Colin went back to his video game and I went back to my phone calls. I had been given the chore of verifying food and alcohol orders. Of course every single order had to be wrong; it wouldn’t be natural any other way.

Adam had proposed to Rachel eighteen months ago. I didn’t think they were ever going to get married. Adam refused to take any part in the planning. I was the one with Rachel doing everything from going to bridal shows to picking out the tuxedos the men would wear. It took Rachel one year to get him to settle on a date and even then he told her that it still might not be a good day to do it. Once she had the invitations printed there wasn’t anything he could do to back out.

“Hey, Lizzy, get the door.”

“What you can’t get up?”

“No,” I sighed and went to the door. I unlocked it and started to pull it open, but Rachel pushed right through. She was carrying about ten different bags loaded down with god knows what.

“Lizzy, are we supposed to wrap the bridesmaid gifts? What type of paper should we use? Bridal paper doesn’t seem right, but we can’t exactly use birthday paper either,” Rachel hardly took a breath between the words. She was already in my living room dropping the bags on the coffee table right in front of Colin.

“What the hell? Can’t you see I’m playing here?” Colin growled, pausing his game.

“Oh, sorry Colin,” Rachel called back to him as she went into the kitchen. I followed her trying to figure out exactly which chore she was going to leave with me this time.

“Are you going to move them?” Colin called after her, but she just ignored him. She opened my refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water. I leaned against the counter to wait for her to stop and tell me why she was here. I could hear Colin stomping around in the other room, while he moved the bags off the table.

“Wow, it’s really hot out there. I’ve been shopping all day. You should see what I got for the groomsmen gifts. What have you been doing today?” she asked as if she didn’t know I had just spent the entire day making calls for her.

“Calling people,” the anger in my voice was blatant, but she either ignored it or didn’t notice.

“Oh, did you get around to calling those places I gave you?” I wanted to ask her what the hell else she thought I had been doing all day, but I didn’t. She’s your best friend and you love her. She’s your best friend and you love her. She’s your best friend and you love her. Now breathe slowly.

“Yeah, everything is going to be okay. We’re all set for the big day.”

“Fabulous.” She was playing with her engagement ring again. She did it all the time now, especially when she wanted someone to notice the size of it. “So, what do you think about wrapping the gifts?”

“I say we use a plain colored paper for the gifts.”

Rachel stayed for the rest of the day. We worked on seating arrangements and the gifts. Colin left for work, thankful to get out of the house while all this wedding planning was going on. Colin was as uncomfortable with the concept of weddings as I was. Rachel knew I thought that marriage was an antiquated, Christian, homophobic, misogynistic practice and clearly becoming pointless in a world where 60% of marriages ended on divorce. But when it came to Rachel getting married, my misgivings had nothing to do with how I felt about marriage in general.

The next night Rachel and I had to go for the final fittings of our dresses. The rest of the bridesmaids took their dresses home from the shop last week. I stood in front of a mirror in this frothy peach atrocity and tried really hard not to cringe. I know the bridesmaids shouldn’t outshine the bride, but did she have to make us all look like some sort of frozen tropical cocktail. The girl, who worked at the small dress shop, was tugging and adjusting my dress. They had taken it in and let it out in several different places. It now fit me like a glove, a peach Barbie’s Dream House glove, but a glove never the less.

Rachel walked out in a dress that could almost put mine to shame. It had come down to two dresses, a beautiful, elegant, sleek white dress that was cut low in the back and this sequined, beaded, embroidered, full skirted gown that even Scarlet O’Hara could not have made look good on her best day. Obviously, my vote was with the first dress, but like everything else in this wedding she wanted something more traditional.

“Oh, you look so adorable in that dress Lizzy. It makes your hair shine and it’s going to match the shoes perfectly.” Murder is a crime. Murder is a crime. Murder is a crime. Now breathe slowly.

“Yeah. It looks like they got the length perfect on your dress.”

“I know it looks great. I’m so happy with it.”

“I’m glad somebody is,” I mumbled under my breath.

“What?”

“I said, ‘I’m glad you are.’” The woman who owned the shop adjusted Rachel’s dress slightly and began to praise how beautiful she looked. I could hear the young girl working on my dress snickering behind my back. Rachel and the woman began to talk about her wedding and how beautiful everything was going to be. I sighed and then jumped when the older woman stabbed me with a pin.

“Sorry, dearie, I didn’t mean to stick you. Her dress still needs to come in through the chest. She’s just not filling out the bust.” Oh god, as if the dress itself wasn’t embarrassing enough, now I have to listen to this old woman tell me that my breasts are too small. This has really gone too far. The girl went back to pulling in the top of my Georgia peach dress and the old woman went to help Rachel out of her dress, which fit perfectly of course. Rachel returned dressed as normal to examine me.

“I see what you mean,” she said staring at my chest, which I was desperately trying to cover with my arms. “Do you think you can have it done before the wedding?”

“It’ll be cutting it short but I think I can do it. She may have to pick it up the day of the wedding.” The older woman and Rachel continued to speak as they walked away. The girl finished with my dress and came to help me out of it. I pulled back on my jeans and tank top and instantly felt much more comfortable. I walked back out to where Rachel was giggling over wedding details with the old woman again.

“Well, I guess I better be going. He is waiting for me,” she said with a wink at the old woman.

I don’t know why she said he was waiting for her. He wasn’t. His parents might have been, but he definitely was not. Adam was 29 and still lived with his parents. Rachel was 19 and had just recently left her parents house to go live with Adam. She fought with his mother all the time. Adam’s mother still did everything for him, from washing his clothes to getting him a job. He was currently working for a family friend at a construction firm. After work he always “went out with the guys” and Rachel had no idea where they went. I didn’t really want to know either.

The next night was Rachel’s bachelorette party. A bunch of her school friends, all the bridesmaids, Rachel and I went to a nightclub and got really wasted. Even at her drunkest Rachel never admitted even the slightest misgivings about getting married. She didn’t even seem to have cold feet. We took a cab back to my apartment and I practically had to drag Rachel upstairs. I got her into a pair of my pajamas and put her in my bed. I sat down next to her and started playing with her hair. I wasn’t nearly as drunk as Rachel and I figured it would be a safe time to broach the subject. There was a pretty good chance she wouldn’t even remember it tomorrow.

“Rachel, are you still awake?”

“Hmmm, yeah,” she slurred heavily.

“Are you really ready to make this kind of commitment? I mean you’re only 19. Aren’t you even a little bit scared?”

“Of course I’m not scared, I love Adam.”

“But this isn’t like all the clothes you buy; you can’t just return him tomorrow when you realize you don’t like him as much as you thought you did.”

“You know, we got in a fight the other day.”

“About what?”

“He got mad when I told him I didn’t want to take his name. He said if he was good enough to marry me then his name was good enough for me. He didn’t understand why I wouldn’t want to take is name. I told him it’s like you said about marriage and he told me to stop listening to you.” Well, that explained why Adam had been giving me dirty looks for a couple of days. He thought I was putting all these new age, feminist ideas in his bride-to-be’s head. Rachel passed out or fell asleep, I wasn’t sure which, and so did I not long after. The next morning she didn’t remember the conversation or at least pretended like she didn’t.

The last three days before the wedding went by so quickly; I could hardly remember everything I had to do. The night before the wedding Rachel spent the night at my apartment, because of tradition and all. The morning of the wedding we all had to go to a salon to have our hair and makeup professionally done. All the bridesmaids, Rachel, the mother of the bride, the mother of the groom, and I were given swept up hair and way too much makeup. I still had to pick up my dress and the limo was supposed to meet us at my apartment. I sped to the dress shop with my windows up despite the stifling early August heat. Rachel’s mother had threatened me with death if I ruined my hair or makeup. She had known me for way too long.

I grabbed the dress and sped back to my apartment. Colin was at our parent’s house so as not to disturb all the women. I pulled on the peach thing as quickly as I could without disturbing my hair and makeup. They had taken the dress in too much and it was way too tight across the chest. I couldn’t move my shoulders for fear that I would rip the dress somewhere. I pulled on the tight, stiletto heals that Rachel had picked. When I stood the heels sunk deep into my carpet. I could hardly walk. I was sure I was going to fall and break my ankle going down the aisle. Rachel came into my room and sat down on my desk chair. This was the first time I had been alone with her all day. She still had not expressed the slightest inkling of cold feet.

“How are you?” she asked, slowly sliding her white, elbow length gloves on.

“I can’t breathe.”

“Isn’t that what I’m supposed to say?” she laughed.

“No, I mean I really can’t breathe. They pulled the dress in too tight.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, honey. It’s just for six more hours.”

“I’ll remember you said that when I pass out from lack of oxygen.”

“Lizzy?” her tone suddenly changed. She sounded more concerned than she had in months.

“Yeah?” I sat back down on the bed. I was praying she would say she wanted to ditch the dresses and take the limo to the airport. We could go on the honeymoon ourselves, and try to fix everything when we got back. I had never been to St. Croix.

“Is this going to change anything?”

“Oh Rachel, this is going to change everything.”

“No, I know that, but I mean, um, are we still going to be okay?”

“That’s more up to you than it is up to me, Rach. You’re the one whose life is going to change.”

“I don’t want to stop being friends with you, but Adam,” she trailed off and sounded close to tears.

“Adam what?”

“Adam doesn’t like me being around you. He says that you’re a bad influence on me. He wants me to join the women’s group at his church. He thinks I will make better friends there. I don’t want to stop being seeing you.” She had yet to break down. Her desire to keep her makeup perfect seemed to be overpowering her need to cry.

“You don’t have to do everything he says just because you marry him. Are you sure you want to marry a guy who already is telling who to hang out with?”

“He’s not that bad.” I just looked at her. “I’m not like you, Lizzy. I’m not always sure of myself. I’m scared to death of being alone. I can’t take care of myself. I need Adam. I just,” she stopped and wiped at the tears that were now flowing freely. “You wouldn’t understand, Lizzy. You’re so much stronger and more confident than I could ever be. You asked the other night if I was scared. I am scared, but not of getting married. I’m scared of not getting married.” I sat in shock for a moment while I absorbed all of this. I had always suspected that that was why Rachel was getting married, but I never thought that she realized it too. I got up and teetered over to Rachel. I handed her a tissue and put my arms around her.

“Rachel, it’s gonna be okay. Everything will be fine. We better go.” Even now I don’t know why I didn’t tell Rachel that she would be fine without him or that she was as strong as me. It’s almost as if I became as resigned as her about the situation. After all, the wedding was planned, the guests were waiting and everything had been paid for. Rachel had made up her mind about this eighteen months ago. What was the point now? Rachel cleaned herself up and fixed her makeup. She looked as perfect as she always had. It was as if she had never been crying at all. Rachel’s mom was waiting out in the living room for us. The bridesmaids had already left for the botanical gardens, where they were getting married. Rachel, her mother, and I climbed into the limo and left for the gardens. Rachel and I didn’t speak the entire way there. Her mother just chattered on and on about how exciting this all was. Rachel stared out the window and I stared at Rachel. Her mother didn’t seem to notice the morose mood in the vehicle.

We arrived at the beautifully manicured gardens and prepared to make the long, final march. The ring bearer and flower girl went first, followed by each bridesmaid and groomsmen, then me and the best man and finally Rachel and her father. The whole ceremony lasted about twenty minutes and I forced myself to smile the entire time. Rachel and Adam had written their own vows and Rachel’s mother cried the entire time. Next to her own wedding I was pretty sure this was the happiest day of Rachel’s mother’s life. Even when we were little she would encourage us to play wedding and house rather than the more violent games I seemed to favor. Rachel easily bent to her mother’s will when we were younger, that day it appeared that nothing had changed.

The reception was a big gaudy affair that was as peach and frothy as my dress. Everything was done up in pastels and flowers. It was enough to make you nauseous or at the very least assault your senses. Rachel was beaming next to Adam. The father/daughter dance was as touching as it was supposed to be. The whole ceremony felt extremely fake to me, but I appeared to be the only one. Colin walked over to me, holding a glass of peach colored punch.

“I thought you looked like you could use this,” he said, gesturing toward me with the glass.

“Eww, no more peach. No more peach. I just can’t take it.” Colin laughed at me and set the glass down.

“Just close your eyes and drink it fast. Trust me it will make you feel better.” He sat down next to me. I picked the glass up and downed it all in one gulp. It burned pleasantly all the way down my throat.

“You laced this with vodka.”

“What me, never.”

“Please tell me that you did not spike the entire bowl of punch.”

“No, I didn’t spike the entire bowl. I’m not that terrible. So, what’s wrong with you? Are you having a case of always the bridesmaid-never-the-bride blues?”

“Oh please, Colin.”

“I’m just kidding. You’re mad she went through with it. You wanted that trip to St. Croix for yourself.”

“No, I wanted her to come too. I just didn’t want him there.”

“Are you jealous?”

“A little maybe, but that’s not really it. I don’t think he’s right for her.”

“It doesn’t matter what you think about him. You are jealous. You don’t want to lose you’re best friend. It’s perfectly understandable. The two of you have done everything together since you were six, until today. She took a step without you, because you weren’t ready and because you couldn’t take this step with her anyway. You know that once she settles into a life with him, there won’t be as much room in her life for you.” I stared at Colin in shock. Colin had never in his entire life shown as much insight into what someone else was feeling as he had just then. “Don’t look so shocked. I’m not as unfeeling as I appear. I know you better than even Rachel does, Lizzy.”

Colin asked me to dance and I accepted. He had a habit of getting me slightly drunk and then spinning me wildly on the dance floor, just to see how bad he could mess up my equilibrium, but today I didn’t care. As he twirled me around on the dance floor, I watched Rachel and Adam. I still wasn’t happy about any of this, but it wasn’t my choice to make.

After the reception had ended I drove to the airport with Adam, Rachel and Colin. Colin was the only one of the four of us who was sober enough to drive. I said goodbye to Rachel by the check in area. She didn’t cry when she said goodbye and neither did I. Adam still looked mad at me. Rachel and Adam left Colin and me standing in the airport. Rachel looked back once, but there was nothing in her eyes. None of the sadness or the fear, not even the happiness I had seen at the wedding. Colin walked me out to the car.

I climbed into the passenger seat and leaned it back slightly. I slipped off my shoes and pulled my feet up beneath me. Colin started the car and, as if he sensed my desire not to speak, turned up the radio. It had begun to rain while we were in the airport. I leaned back and turned towards the window. I watched the light from the street lamps bend in the rain water as Colin drove. I was still very buzzed. I tried to think about what life would be like without Rachel, but I couldn’t even remember what life was like before Rachel. At some point on the ride back to our apartment I fell asleep. Colin carried me from the car back to my room and put me in bed. That night even my dreams were a sickly sweet peach.