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“But you’re not just getting married, Bea,” she said. “You’re getting married toCollin Case, perhaps the country’s most eligible bachelor.”
“How veryTatlerof you, Syl.” I laughed. I really did like her. And she was right. Iwasmarrying Collin Case. No matter what. “I should have asked you to be a bridesmaid.”
“Ha! I actually think it’s better for our friendship that you didn’t. Being a bridesmaidsucks.”
“Have you been one before?”
“Oh, yeah, more than a few times. Girls from my H&M days, a girl from the group home. Really, it’s a punishment, which I know, I know, isn’tvery nice, but it’s true. I mean, you know how it is.”
“Not really. I’ve never been a bridesmaid before.”
“Really?” Syl seemed genuinely shocked. Like I must have hadscores of girlfriends over the years. She didn’t know she was my first real friend.
“Well, I’m sure Wren will ask you when her time comes, and she’ll pull every trick in the book,” Syl explained. “She’ll pick the worst color dress and make you go to Vegas for the bachelorette party and it’ll cost a small fortune. All so you can share a queen bed with some weirdo she went to camp with when she was ten. Although, I guessyoudon’t need to worry about the spending part.” Syl started laughing. “She’ll probably make you her maid of honor. Everyone always picks their richest friend so their parties are better. Hey, maybeIshould ask you to be my maid of honor?” The way she rattled off all this information led me to believe she was a true authority on female friendship. I was agog. “I’m kidding,” Syl continued. “I’m not doing bridesmaids. We’ll probably just elope or have his family there. We’ll see, we haven’t planned shit yet. Anyway—”
“That’s not why I picked Gale,” I interrupted her, yearning to confide in her about the real reason, still unsure if I could.
“Obviously.” Syl rolled her eyes. “So whydidyou?” Her voice lowered as if she was urging me to consider her a true confidante. I wanted to tell her secrets. Maybe this one was a good gateway to test the waters. It was such a mild bit of gossip, comparatively speaking. A reason that anyone could understand. And I knew that Syl would be supportive. That’s just who she was. I could feel it, feel her.
“Gale’s in love with Collin,” I revealed, staying blunt about it, just in case. “So it’s a keep-your-enemy-closer situation. And, truth be told, I think it’s kind of entertaining to mess around with her.”
“Hahaha, so you’re a real girls’ girl.” Syl snickered, winking at me. I laughed along with her, not totally understanding what she meant, but it was exciting.
And a reminder that I should still proceed with caution.
•••
I WAS FORCEDto open presents in front of everyone, which I admittedly enjoyed. I appreciated undivided attention and uproarious applause for doing nothing but being Bea. Plus, Gale had to sit next to me and write down every single gift received, along with the name of the giver, so I could send the appropriate thank-you notes in a week’s time. Frankly, I didn’t know how she managed to do the job, particularly when the gift from her own mother was two sets of luxury bed linens. The imagery alone of my marital bed with Collin probably sent her into the dark web that evening, curious about the expense, both financial and social, of hiring an assassin.
I thought about what Mother would have given me at a party like this. Something expensive to please everyone else watching, but something impersonal to keep me at arm’s length, like a vacuum cleaner or a food processor. I also thought about what a normal mother might give her daughter at a bridal shower. Jewelry, luxury pajamas, a new fragrance. Something special, handpicked for her taste, just for her. Just for the bride.
Thankfully, the shower was winding down, because I’d had enough adoration from strangers to tide me over until the wedding weekend. But I still had to make it through the bachelorette party that night. Oh, yes. We were doubling down on pre-wedding events, in a true act of torture, but also efficiency, so I was more than happy to oblige. By all means, let’s get it all over with in one fell swoop.
Wren Daly had previously insisted upon planning a destination bachelorette party, but in a blessed turn of events, there wasn’t a weekend everyone was available to travel at the same time, so I suggested a night on the town post–bridal shower in lieu of the Nashville bash Wren was dying to plan. Besides, not one of us would haveappreciated a hootenanny at a honky-tonk, least of all Gale Wallace-Leicester. Though I did enjoy the idea of her sulking in a corner clad in country-western garb.
As the shower wrapped up and the guests shuffled out of the garden with their grins and goody bags, Gale pulled me deep into her arms so she could whisper in my ear, “I’m really looking forward to tonight.” And she pinched me back. Hard.
Game on.
•••
A FEW HOURSafter the shower, I met the bridesmaids plus Syl at Le Bernardin for dinner. Chloe’s edict for the night was that everyone wore black so that I would shine in whatever color I decided to wear as the bride. None of us would be caught dead in sashes, except for Wren Daly. I went with a gold lamé number that showed a lot of skin, sprayed with the requisite tan, a true showstopper. If I was going to have to have a bachelorette party, I wanted the spectacle.
Dinner got us good and sauced, with seemingly endless wine and cocktails, especially Wren Daly, who was gunning for the role of sloppiest bridesmaid, to no one’s surprise. Conversation ran mostly polite, considering two of Collin’s sisters were there, his assistant, and the woman who had loved him for the better part of twenty years. No one wanted details about our sex life except for, of course, Wren Daly.
“Where are you guys going on the honeymoon and when can we give you our prizes?” she slurred, leaning over the table, receiving major side-eye from the waitstaff. Our time would be almost up if she carried on that way. Fine with me.
“Wren, come on, I said no gifts,” I protested, definitely wanting all the gifts.
“It’s a bachelorette party!” she shouted. “You’re supposed to get slutty things to wear on the honeymoon from your girlfriends. It’s thelaw.”
“Wren’s right.” Syl laughed. “I brought you a gift, Bea.”
“Oh, yay!” Wren clapped. “See! Let’s do gifts now! Then you can get them sent home before we go on to the next mystery location.Oooooh!” Wren tried in vain to get the others to echo her sound.
“You guys didn’t have to do that,” I said.
“We got you gift cards,” Chloe said, dry as a bone.
