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“Did you really need to chat forthatlong?” said Alex. “We’ve been in there for like, two hours.”
“It’s just like you said,” I replied, innocently shrugging. “We want it to look right, right?”
I flashed my eyes at him and, not for the first time that week, enjoyed watching Alex seethe. He might be the one with the cash, but I was the one who understood the secret operation we’d embarked upon. In the end, I was the one who knew how to make things convincing.
So I led Alex around town, visiting caterers, party planners, the priest, and all of it was just a big lie: a lie designed to present an impression to the world of two people who’d decided to join their hearts and minds for the rest of their lives. But the truth was that Alex and I were increasingly growing apart. It hurt me to have to bring an end to the affair we’d been carrying on. But I knew that things would be too complicated if I didn’t stop now. If my name ended up on the marriage license next to a man I was sleeping with, I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between fact and fiction.
There were other, darker feelings in my mind too. I’d been close that day in the Park, to telling Alex the truth: that he was Macy’s father. Even if I felt like I knew him better than anyone, I was at a loss to explain how Alex would take the news. I still thought I could keep it from him, that I could shield him from the knowledge of what he had done. That he had a child, that she was my daughter. And that she was a constant reminder of why we could never be together. And I feared what would happen if Alex found out. I couldn’t trust him. His reach and influence were beyond my understanding. What if he tried to take Macy from me, or threatened the perfect peace I’d surrounded my life with?
Still, I couldn’t deny to myself that it was great fun to plan a wedding. Each hour of each day was spent with some new task that we had to get done, some new decision that had to have the bride and groom’s seal of approval. Of course, Alex thought it was all ridiculous. But he had to make plenty of arrangements.
First: the guest list. Alex invited everyone who worked atThe Blue Orchidand for his company, but he didn’t have a single family member on the guest list. We discussed it one day, while sitting at the bar ofCrumb, a flashy, upmarket wedding-cake maker in Brooklyn.
“Are you sure this is all you want to have?”
“I figured that if I was getting married for real, I’d want to keep it pretty small,” he told me. “I like the chocolate one. Very nutty.”
“What about me?” I said. “I’m not letting my parents come. It wouldn’t be right.”
“Of course not,” he said. “That’s what the actors are for.”
“Actors?” I said. “Mm, this strawberry’s nice.”
“You know, actors?” said Alex. “They pretend to be other people.”
“In movies, or TV, Alex. Not in real life.”
“This isn’t real-life,” he said. “It’s make-believe.”
“Well, it would be nice if it was,” I said, and smiled at him. But Alex’s smile had disappeared in recent days.
When the big day came, I was driven down to the church in the beautiful dress Alex had bought for me. At the entrance to the chapel, I met Sara and my bridesmaids, all girls from the restaurant. There were smiles and giggles as we got together, and then from behind the front door of the building, appeared a handsome man in his early fifties.
“Lola! My baby girl!” he said.
“Dad…?” I said.
He stepped forward and kissed me on the cheek, then hugged me while I stood awkwardly in front of the girls. “You lookbeautiful, sweetheart,” he said. “Come on, let’s go inside.”
“Is that your fake dad?” said Sara to me in a low voice as we stepped out of the sun and into the cool darkness of the church.
I nodded weakly. “He looks like he could be my older brother.”
But I was amazed. As the organ played and I walked down the aisle, surrounded by people I knew, no one stood up. When the priest asked the crowd if there were any objections, I expected twenty people to stand up and say, “It’s a fake!”
But no one did.
Everything went perfectly.
And while I still felt like Lola Ryder as we walked out into a shower of confetti, I wasn’t her anymore. I was Lola Lowe. Legally bound to Alex Lowe in marriage.
***
We had a reception at the fancy hotel over the road. From there, we’d be driven by limousine toThe Blue Orchidfor the evening do. But during the photographs, I couldn’t help but think about Macy. I didn’t want her to know about any of this, so I’d arranged for her to stay with Sara’s cousin Luisa. She lived in a cool brownstone in Brooklyn, and I knew Macy would be safe there and have a nice time.
But still, I felt torn as I smiled for the photographs. I wondered if someone would find them one day. Would they be able to see that it was all a sham, just from the look in my eye?
Later, over the drinks, I began to realize what I’d just gotten myself into.
