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“In the bathroom when I changed. I wanted to smell good.”
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter.
“What?”
I shake my head even though she can’t see me. “You smell nice, Joey.”
“Newlyweds, it’s time to play ‘Name That Pie’. I’m going to show you a series of ingredients for a certain pie and the first one to chime in with the correct answer scores a point. The first team to seven wins the master suite for the week. Are you ready to see how domesticated you are?”
“Yes, Patrick,” we say in unison.
“Remember, let someone win,” I remind Joey. She doesn’t acknowledge me, giving me the impression that she’s as stubborn as I am.
The first ingredient appears: Celery.
I cringe. “Who puts celery in pie?”
“Potpie, haven’t you ever had one?” she chides me.
“No, can’t say I have.”
“I’ll make you one.”
No, you won’t,I want to say, but my stomach growls, and now I’m really looking forward to having a potpie with Joey.
The next ingredient appears: Carrots
“I know this,” she says.
I set my hand on her hip and apply a little pressure. “Let them win.”
She nods and writes something on the board and chimes in.
“What’s your answer, Joey?” Patrick calls out over the loud speaker.
“Mushroom Pot Pie.”
“That is incorrect. You and Joshua are out of this round.”
“That was brilliant,” I whisper into her skin. She reacts, unwillingly I’m sure, as her skin pebbles under my touch. She nods and tries to step away from me, but I hang on, not allowing her to move.
I’m lost on all things Joey right now, and it’s only when I see Cole and Millie being congratulated do I realize we’ve lost and the game is over. Cole looks excited and Millie looks nervous. I don’t blame either of them. Millie is a pretty woman, but she doesn’t hold a candle to Joey.
Holy shit, what the hell is wrong with me?I need to stop thinking like that. She’s a friend. . . just a friend.
four
joey
I have never felt somuch anger toward anyone that I can imagine his or her head exploding until now. Visions of my mother’s head popping off and bursting like a watermelon appear each time I close my eyes. Not even when I found Tony and my former best friend slash maid of honor playing doctor, did I feel this much anger. How can a mother do this to her daughter? I know she had no idea that I’d be paired with my celebrity crush—the man I have imagined doing wicked things to—thatJoshua Wilsonwould end up being my husband. I’m sure she’s sitting at home just waiting for the scenes to play out where Joshua Freaking Wilson and I fall madly in love and have wild and crazy monkey sex.
Sorry, Mom, it’s never going to happen, and why? Because my “husband” doesn’t want to have anything to do with me, that’s why. Yet, he continues to touch me and each touch sends the most glorious chills down my spine. Each touch is longer than the last, giving me false hope, only for him to open his mouth and have some stupid comment spew out—like how he likes my perfume.
He’s my fantasy. He’s my dream come true. Millions of women wish they were me right now, and all I want to be is them, at home with my pint ofBen and Jerry’swatching this show and hoping that the people on here are finding true love and some sort of happiness in this crazy, messed-up world where we have to resort to reality television to find a lover.
For one brief moment, when I opened my eyes and saw that Joshua was standing in front of me with his hand on my cheek and possibly dizzy from kissing me, I thought I was getting my fairytale. Passing out, of course, wasn’t part of said fairytale, but being romanced by him was. I thought I was going to find my own piece of happiness, to prove that I am worthy enough to be loved by someone like Joshua. Clearly, Tony couldn’t love me the way I deserved. Weeks before our wedding, he was caught cheating. His confession was one that I didn’t want to hear, but listened to anyway as tears clouded my vision. He had been cheating since before he proposed and thought that once he did, he could stop, but he couldn’t. He didn’t know if it was the thrill or the fact that he had been able to keep a drunken night turned torrid affair a secret for so long. Tony said he didn’t love her and that she was a mistake, but I find that hard to believe. If she didn’t mean anything, how could he have been sleeping with her for so long? She was my best friend, and she knew how I felt about Tony, yet she crossed the line. I’ll never forgive them. They have forever branded me with a stigma, and have put me in that awkward position where every time I look my family members in the eyes, the sympathy in them is clear as they ask how I’m doing.
Today I want to tell them I’m doing fan-flipping-tastic, but I’m not. This is going to end up being yet another failure to add to my list. Maybe it’s me. Maybe I don’t love them enough or can’t show it in a way that binds them to me. I’m probably broken and unfixable.
