“I’m just asking a question.”
The introductions were fine, albeit uncomfortable, but most of that was likely coming from me. What year were we living in that the dudes were in one room and the women in another?
After I met Luke's dad and brothers, his uncle, several of his cousins, and the groomsmen, Amy walked me into the kitchen. Luke's mom, Cindy, was the first person we encountered. She was just as much of a perfect physical specimen as her son, with blindingly white teeth and the posture of a person who has done dance her entire life. “Katherine, we want you to know that you're about to become a member of our family, too. Just like Amy.” Something about the comment, however gracious, made me think she was perpetually widening her social circle.
“Oh, well, gee. Thanks. That's very sweet of you.” I forced a smile and glanced at Amy, waiting for the moment when she'd roll her eyes, the signal that we would get to laugh about this later.
That moment never came. Amy admired Cindy in utter adoration. “I’m getting the best mother-in-law ever.”
Cindy's chin dropped and her lower lip stuck out. “And I'm getting the daughter I always wanted.”
“Don't you already have a daughter?” Granted, I was still sorting out the family tree, but Luke had definitely mentioned a sister.
Cindy tossed back her head and laughed, cupping my shoulder with her hand. “I can tell we have a real firecracker on our hands.”
Amy smiled in eager agreement. “She's a real barrel of laughs. Especially at parties.”
I forced a beauty pageant grin. Or at least that was what it looked like in my head. “You know how much I love large social gatherings.”
I surveyed the massive kitchen, a sea of white marble and double ovens populated with women who spoke while hardly moving their jaws at all. When in the hell was Luke going to show up with my cocktail? I needed some gin and Campari to loosen me up for more fake pleasantries.
Amy paraded me around the room, which put my pageant contestant practice from a few moments earlier to good use. I met Luke's aunt, Jan, who was clearly cut from the same cloth as her sister, Cindy, except quite self-absorbed, the sort of person who tells you all about herself before she thinks to ask a single question about you. Thankfully, the groom showed up with my drink, which took the edge off. Next time, I wouldn't wait so long. I'd start drinking in the car.
Luke left to join the men in the other room, which made me a bit sad. He was a known quantity, always even-keeled and easy to be around. Plus, my sister was acting so unlike herself it was hard for me to be in the same room with her without slugging her arm and asking what in the hell was wrong with her. We hadn't shared a single inside joke or made fun of anyone yet, not even Aunt Jan, who wouldnotstop talking about her seven Pomeranians, each named after a member of 'N SYNC or The Backstreet Boys. By all accounts, Justin Timberlake was quite a rascal.
I'd met two of the three other bridesmaids before at work functions for Amy's law firm and they were nice enough, but after ten minutes, I ran out of things I could think to ask about practicing law, so those conversations fizzled. I just felt all too uncomfortable, like when you're wearing a blouse with a scratchy tag or undies that won't stop riding up. I wasn't meant for idle chitchat and it was always impossible to explain to anyone what I did for a living, which added an extra layer of awkward to everything.
“So you're like an interior designer.” Aunt Jan had hunted me down to tell my an adorable story about how Joey Fatone is always gnawing on one corner of her very expensive designer couch, but apparently decided to humor me with a discussion of something in no way related to herself.
“Not quite. I'm a color analyst. I help companies put together color schemes for things like ad campaigns and corporate branding.”
“So you're a graphic designer.”
I shook my head. “I don't do any actual design.” Once I reached this point in the back-and-forth, it started to sink in just how easily I could disappear and it wouldn't matter. What I did was like a wisp of smoke—fleeting, difficult to quantify, and I suspected would not be missed when it was gone.
“Katherine has superhuman eyesight when it comes to colors,” Amy explained. “It's remarkable. A one-in-a-million anomaly.”
“Well, it's not superhuman so much as it is uncommon. I can see a million more colors than the average person. It's my job to identify particular colors that might be especially harmonious or pleasant. Or sometimes schemes that are jarring or make people uncomfortable. There's a real psychology behind it.”
“Katherine's working on the new Anthem Apparel catalog. It's very exciting.”
Somewhere above her head, a light bulb went off for Aunt Jan. “Oh, I just love their cardigans. You must pick those crazy names they use. Like when you buy a sweater and it's called cornflower, not just light blue.”
No, that's not what I do either.“Sort of.”
Eventually, Amy and Jan launched into a lengthy discussion of where Amy and Luke were going to go on their honeymoon and I wandered into a quiet corner of the kitchen, where a young woman with dyed magenta hair and heavy eyeliner was sitting on a barstool drinking a glass of red wine and staring at her phone.
“Hi. I'm Katherine. I'm Amy's sister.”
She looked up from the screen. “Oh. Hey. I'm Shelly. Luke's sister.” She turned her phone over and set it down on the counter.
I knocked back the last of my drink to disguise my shock. This was Mr. Perfect's sister? The outcast girl in the corner? I immediately liked her. “Your mom was talking about you. I guess she just never got around to introducing us. She's pretty busy with the party.”
“My mom was most likelynottalking about me, but I appreciate your willingness to lie to make a stranger feel more comfortable. It shows a great deal of empathy on your part.”
Apparently I'd better buckle up for this conversation. “She mentioned you if that makes you feel any better.” She'd also called my sister the daughter she never had, so there was no telling what sorts of skeletons Shelly might have. I didn't want to pry, but if I happened to stumble over a few bones, it would at least make the evening more interesting.
“That's something. For sure.” Shelly pulled out the empty barstool next to her and patted the seat. "Join me."
