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“Hello?”
“Phoebe? Why aren’t you here yet?” Rachelle is on the other end, using her polite voice.
“The ferry is taking a coffee break.” I should take one as well.
“I do not love your sense of humor at this moment. The bride is freaking out because the groom bleached his hair, and now he looks like an ugly version of Slim Shady.” Awe, customer service voice comes over the phone, and I don’t like that either. This is why I don’t do weddings; I don’t like the drama or the love or the future lies they tell themselves.
I might be a little sour.
“It’s a good look.”
“No, it isn’t, Phoebe. Now listen, could you pretend to care and figure out a way to get your ass over to the island before bridezilla erupts?” Rachelle whispers it on the phone. “Oh my gosh, you are the most gorgeous bride. Where did you get those shoes?” She waits a few seconds before speaking to me again.
“Yeah?”
“God, I hate weddings.” That makes two of us, Rachelle.
“Could have fooled me with the amount of enthusiasm I feel through the phone.”
“Oh, what’s that, a sexy groomsman needs saving? You will go to the pier and pick up the groom’s long-lost friend, who I am desperate to have by his side?” How did we get stuck with this?
“Pass.” I throw a chip in the air and try to catch it in my mouth.
“Too bad, Phoebe. See ya in fifteen, girl.”
I put the phone away and removed my ounces of camera gear to get ready for the most romantic show someone will have. As I wait, I start repeating the national parks in my head.
“Hey.” I know that voice.
“Jesus Christ, are you stalking me now? Like there aren’t other Asian girls in Japantown, you can go and put the moves on.” Gross, men are yucky.
“Phoebe.” Enzo sits down beside me.
“What’s with the tuxedo? Very James Bond of you.” Get fucked, buddy, by anyone else besides me.
“I am actually running late for a wedding. My friend from the Navy; you’ve never met him. His name is Connors; he and his girl are getting married on one of those ferries. I’m running late; he said that the photographer was running late too. So…”
“This isn’t funny.” Rachelle is going to love this.
“You never do weddings.” Now he is repulsed by my presence.
“I don’t, for obvious reasons.” Like running into my ex-boyfriend being one of them.
“Because you hate to love.” Enzo says it lighthearted like it’s a joke.
“Yep.” But it’s truer now than ever before.
“But the groom's mother is a fan, and I like to please people and do things that make my skin crawl, so here I am.” I wipe the cloth over my camera.
“Still got the same model from Florida.”
The ferry comes, so I don’t have to respond, thank God.
Rachelle and I hang around the back before they start the reception.
You learn new things about a person every day. “My ex-boyfriend would break up with me when he got me gifts. So I was terrified any time he got me a gift that he was leaving me again.”
“Why did you take him back?” I avoid all eye contact with the people who are pointing at us.
