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Moving on. I started to list my sister’s many achievements, awards, and accolades. She wasn’t just tall and beautiful, she was also smart, and a talented dancer and performer, and a natural leader, so there was a lot to say. I went on for a while because these were things that I could definitely remember. I’d been a witness to Aubin’s success for my whole life.
I saw my dad walk to the open bar that Aubin had insisted on because any other way would look cheap, even though it was bad for him to be around it. I watched Bill’s mom yawn, which she covered with her napkin. I could tell that my cousin Colton was having luck with the woman seated next to him, because she was leaning forward and letting him whisper against her neck. My aunt and uncle had returned to checking their phones and most of the football players had moved to the buffet for more food. But I had even more to say about my sister, and in fact, I wasn’t halfway done with the list of things I’d written down and practiced. The speech was finally coming back to me, thank goodness. Maybe it had started a little rough, but I was finishing strong!
“Sissy,” Aubin whispered. I looked over and saw a frozen smile on her face. Next to her, Bill was frowning. Both of them shook their heads at me. “Finish it!” she hissed.
Right now? I felt like I’d finally gotten into the swing of things but I nodded back at them. “Oh, ok. That’s the end of my speech, then. Can we all raise our glasses and toast the new couple?” I suggested. Aubin and Bill dutifully kissed and there was sporadic clapping. I gave a small wave to the crowd, walked to the edge of the platform, and carefully got myself down.
I realized that my legs were shaking as I started to move back through the tables. Jess, my sister’s best friend and business partner, had gone up to the microphone to make an unscheduled toast. She was joking about Aubin but her remarks seemed to be going over better than mine had, because people were laughing now and the weirdly somber atmosphere seemed to have lifted.
My plan was to get to the spot where I’d seen my boyfriend so I could talk him out of his mood, but when I looked for him, he had disappeared. Instead, I continued to work my way through the dresses and tables back to my former place against the wall, where my neighbor Mieke also stood. She had lived next door to us forever and had always been a huge help to our family, and I wanted to hear her opinion of how I’d done.
“How was it?” I asked her when I finally got there. “I think I kind of blacked out.”
“Well…” She bit her lip. “When I saw you at the mailboxes last week, you said that your biggest fears were that you would trip on your way to the platform or fall off it, and you didn’t do either of those things. You didn’t mumble weird stuff under your breath, either. Well done.”
“But how was the speech part? I don’t even remember what I said.”
She didn’t answer that directly. “Was that what you had prepared?” she asked.
“No, not at all. I had my real speech in my head as I walked up there and even when I took the microphone, but then it just evaporated and I had to make things up as I went.” No one had liked my jokes, I remembered, as a roar of laughter went through the crowd at something that Jess had said. I had to wait until they’d quieted to talk again. “Why are you looking at me like that? Was it bad?”
She didn’t answer.
“Mieke, tell me, please. Was it terrible?”
“I recorded it,” her boyfriend Eddie told me. He held out his phone.
“Don’t,” Mieke said. “You don’t want to—”
But I’d already hit play, and then as the other guests continued to laugh, sniffle, and sigh with emotion at Jess’s words, I watched Eddie’s video. I saw how I’d publicly humiliated myself in front of my family, celebrity football players, my sister’s new in-laws, and every person I knew from our town. There was a reason that my brain had blocked out those words, all those horrible words. I listened to them tumble from my mouth as I insulted people, shared personal details of our lives, and delved into death for a really long stretch.
It went on and on. I’d stood up there in front of all of them and made a fool of myself for what seemed like hours, staring around the room with eyes as big as a screech owl’s, making awkward movements with my hands, and grinning widely. Not only did I sound insane, but I looked that way, too. I clicked the screen closed and also closed my eyes.
“It’s not as bad as you’re thinking,” Mieke said. “A lot of people were busy eating and so many of them are already drunk. Open bar,” she reminded me. “They may not have noticed.”
I nodded, my humiliation too choking to allow me to speak.
“And you know, that bridesmaid dress does have enough fabric to make another dress out of it too, but it is a great color on you. You looked beautiful.”
I tried to say thank you but nothing emerged from my mouth. It would have been so, so much better if the same thing had happened while I was up on that podium. Instead of speaking now, I pointed toward the ballroom doors and she nodded, commiserating.
“Take a moment,” she agreed.
I quietly slipped outside into the lobby but there were wedding guests milling around, so I made my way as fast as these shoes could take me around a corner and through a door that was marked as an exit. It led me to a quiet alley in the back of the building and I stood on a loading dock and looked up at the starry night sky.
Good Lord. What had I just done? The video of me giving that speech was the worst thing I’d ever witnessed. I wasn’t even sure if I’d been speaking English in some parts of it because the words had come out garbled and maybe in the wrong order. I’d made my sister sound like a witch, I’d told everyone that Bill’s parents hadn’t chipped in to help with wedding costs, I’d insinuated that until recently, my dad hadn’t been able to hold down a job. It was awful. Embarrassing. Shameful. I’d also introduced myself five or six times, so they’d never forget the name of the girl who’d treated them all to that spectacle. If my sister was crying or wishing she’d never laid eyes on me, I wouldn’t have been surprised. Could this night get worse?
The door from the hotel opened and smacked me on the butt, smacked me hard on the butt. I hurtled forward on the stilts of shoes and nearly catapulted off the edge of the loading dock. A guardrail stopped me as I smashed into it, leading with my stomach.
“Oh, damn! I’m sorry. Are you all right?”
I was trying not to throw up, actually, due to the sudden jolt to my gut and also to the show I’d just put on at the wedding reception. “I’m fine,” I gasped back automatically. “It’s all good.”
“Oh, damn,” the man said again, “look at that. I’m very sorry.” I stared down at where his eyes were directed, my midsection. There was suddenly a glistening, red stripe across the light pink bodice of the gown.
Paint? “This is wet paint?” I asked out loud and stared at the ruined bridesmaid dress. “They painted the guard rails of this loading dock, now, at night?”
“It’s on your behind, too,” the man told me. “I guess they also did the doors.”
