Part Two – Awkward Situations
“Okay, whose idea was it for us to drive here?” Jake asks as we sit stuck in one of the worst traffic jams I've ever seen in New York City, which is saying something.
“Well...it was either you or me and it wasn't me,” I remind him as subtly as a I possibly can.
“Ha ha.”
It's the beginning of November and Bianca has decided that she wants a Christmas wedding. Well, Christmas Eve to be exact, which gives us a grand total of one month and twelve days to plan an entire wedding. Judging by the phone conversations we've had in the past week since she asked me to be her maid of honor, Bianca is not planning on a small wedding either, so I will be very impressed if we manage to pull this off. So naturally, Jake and I have made the drive from Boston to New York on a Saturday morning so that I can spend my day trying on bridesmaids dresses, looking at various cake and invitation options and otherwise wanting to claw my own eyes out.
We sit in traffic for what seems like hours, although I'm pretty sure it's only been about 45 minutes. The only sound in the car for much of that time is the music coming from Jake's iPod, because as usual I am lost in my own little dysfunctional world. I'm nervous. More nervous than I have been about pretty much anything since maybe when I was applying for law schools. Maybe even more nervous than that.
Bianca and I have talked on the phone almost every day for the past week, trying to get thing started for the planning process. It's been fine, but a little awkward. You know how there are some people who you can not talk to for years but then when you finally do, it's like nothing has changed? Apparently Bianca is not one of those people for me. I find myself constantly wondering why she even asked me to be her maid of honor. I'm starting to wonder if it's because I'm Jewish so a Christmas Eve wedding won't conflict with any grand family plans, but Jake tells me I'm being paranoid and overly skeptical. He's probably right.
“You're nervous,” Jake finally breaks my silence. He chuckles at the way I jump a little at the sound of his voice, as I often do when I'm spacing out.
It's not a question or an observation, he's telling me as if I didn't already know. Of course I'm nervous, but I'm not sure how he could tell. I'm just sitting here with my feet propped up on the dashboard, staring listlessly out the window and tapping my fingers on the windowsill next to him. Like I said, I've been spacing out, but that's not exactly unusual for me, so who knows what I've done to tip him off. It's scary how well he can read me sometimes.
“Yeah,” I sigh. “I don't know why, but I am.”
“I know why,” he replies. “You've been telling me why for the past week. It's awkward talking to her, you feel skeptical about being in her wedding at all...it's all completely understandable. Besides, how long has it even been since you guys have seen each other? I don't even remember.”
“I saw her at Christmas last year. Remember, we ran into her at that Christmas party back in Orlando? We didn't talk much though, she was on her way out.”
“Oh, yeah, that's right...still, it's been a long time. And it's been even longer since you guys were close. It's normal to be nervous.”
“Yeah, I guess.” I sigh again, and looking out the window I realize we've finally arrived at our destination: a little designer dress shop on 42nd Street.
I bite my lip as Jake pulls over to the curb. He looks over at me and smiles, giving my arm an encouraging squeeze. “Have fun,” he says.
I want to laugh. Fun is not at all what I am anticipating, but I give him a weak, “I'll try,” and a smile before I open the door and step out onto the bustling side walk.
The moment I walk into the store, I see Bianca and six other women, her mother and other bridesmaids I assume, crowded around one of the racks on the opposite side of the store, chattering and giggling. The first thing I notice is that every single one of them is blonde. Most of them are fake blondes, I'm sure, but there is not a brunette or redhead among them. The next thing I notice is that they are all wearing stylish 5th Avenue kind of dresses and heels that are several inches high. This shouldn't surprise me, really, Bianca went into fashion journalism (she works at Vogue) so most of her friends are fashionable, but in the 32 degree weather, it didn't even occur to me to wear anything that didn't completely cover my legs.
Most of the time in life when I'm really nervous about a situation, I start to feel better when I'm in it. This is not one of those times. Now that I am here in the store looking at these women and realizing that when I join the group I'll stick out like a sore thumb with my dark hair and jeans, I am more nervous than I have been all day. It takes me about two minutes to get my legs moving towards them, but I finally approach the group and greet them with a rather pathetically meek, “hi” and all seven blonde heads whip around to look at me in a creepy simultaneous motion.
“Taylor!” Bianca breaks out in a huge smile and throws her arms around me.
For a minute I forget the fact that my former best friend, formerly the high school rebel with the nose ring and blue streaks in her hair, has turned into one of the New York socialites we always made fun of our first year in New York. For a minute she feels like my friend Bianca again and I am a little bit more at ease. Then she pulls away and introduces me to her friends who all have names like Stacey and Nicole, and I start to feel nervous and out of place again.
“Sorry I'm late, traffic was horrible,” I say.
“You drove?” One of the girls – I think her name is Anna – looks shocked at the concept.
“Yeah, my boyfriend's idea.” I roll my eyes and laugh a little. All the girls give an obligatory understanding chuckle.
“How is Jake?” Bianca asks me.
“Oh, he's good. He's going to meet up with some of his buddies from college until I'm done here today. They've been trying to find time to get together for a while, so I think he's glad he finally got an excuse to come down to New York.”
“That's nice.”
There's an awkward silence, where obviously no one else knows what to say to the inappropriately dressed new brunette outcast in their midst, so Bianca does the natural things and breaks it with wedding talk.
“So, obviously since it's a Christmas wedding, my colors are going to involve red and green, but I don't want to be super cliché and just go straight red and green for the dresses, so I'm thinking red and black for the dresses and then maybe bringing the green more into the decorations and stuff,” she tells me. The other girls all nod, but they obviously know this already.
“Here's the dress I'm thinking of for you.” She hands me a knee-length red strapless dress. “But there are several other options the other girls can show you. I have to go get measured for my dress. I'll be back in a few.”
And with that, she saunters off to be measured and leaves me alone with her fancy new friends, who all start chattering at once. I just stand there awkwardly holding my dress and listening to them, wondering when we are going to actually get to the whole trying on dresses part. They seem nice enough, but I don't really have anything to contribute to a conversation about what's in this season.
Finally, I just start walking over to the fitting room and they follow me like a flock of sheep, black and red dresses in hand. As soon as I get in my fitting room, I just stare at myself in the mirror for a moment wondering what I'm doing here. It's been a long time since I felt like I didn't fit in somewhere, and an even longer time since I've cared. But at this moment, I definitely feel like I don't fit in, and I kind of feel like I care. It's weird. I feel about 15 years old.
“So, Taylor, what do you do?” a voice asks me from the next stall. I think it's Nicole, but it's hard to tell.
“Um, I'm a law student,” I reply, taking my boots off. “At Harvard.”
“Wow,” a chorus of blondes chime from all sides of me like some creepy socialite surround sound.
“That must be really hard,” Nicole comments.
“Yeah, it's definitely a lot of work. But I enjoy it. I mean...as much as anyone can enjoy law school, I guess.” I laugh self consciously and again they all chime in from all angles.
I don't say anything else and neither does anyone else, so I guess that's the end of “getting to know Taylor in the most awkward way possible.” As I pull off my sweater and my jeans and pull on the red dress, I can hear women on both sides of me commenting on how old they're starting to look and how this black dress doesn't look nearly as good as they were hoping and every other cliché complaint under the sun.
I look at myself in the mirror in this small red dress and I have to say, I'm actually kind of impressed with how good I look. I've lost a few pounds this semester due to stress. Not the best way to do it, but they were really the only few I needed to lose, so I'm kind of my perfect size right now. And red's always been a pretty good color on me. I'm shocked to say it, but I actually really like this dress.
I hear fitting room doors opening around me and assume that the others are showing their dresses to one another. I start to hear them commenting on each other's looks and I bite my lip nervously. I think I look pretty good, but I am not tall, blonde, and beautiful like most of these girls.
“Taylor, are you ready?” the one named Shannon asks.
I don't respond, I just open the door and step out into the store. All six women are staring at me, and all six jaws drop instantly when I emerge from the fitting room. I feel really self conscious right now, but at least it's a good reaction.
“Oh my God,” Shannon says. “That dress is so perfect on you.”
“You look beautiful,” Nicole agrees. “I think I hate you a little bit.”
They all start crowding around me, looking at me from all angles, wondering if they can pull of the dress as well as I can and gushing over how good I look. I can't help grinning and I start to feel a little bit more comfortable with these girls. Even Bianca's mom, who never really liked me all that much, hugs me and tells me that I look gorgeous, then whispers in my ear that she's glad I'm here. I smile and hug her back, hoping that someday I'll be able to tell her how much I needed to hear that.
* * *
By the time we make it to the Plaza Hotel that afternoon after hours at the dress shop, and the caterer, and the bakery, and a stationery shop, it's just Bianca, Mrs. Hampton and myself. All of the others have dropped off at one point or the other to go do other things in their lives. But I, as the faithful maid of honor, who also has no car and no way to escape, have survived through all of it. My feet are killing me and I'm exhausted, but it's been a pretty good day. Once the initial awkwardness wore off, I actually started having fun. Bianca's friends were really sweet and some of them were really funny. Definitely the kind of girls I could get along with. It was a nice surprise.
“I'm surprised that the Plaza would even have an opening on such short notice,” I comment as we wait for someone to come show us the hotel's Grand Ballroom.
“Well, let's just say it pays to have a famous, rich fiance,” Bianca replies with a wink.
“Oh yeah, I forget that I am not dealing with the rules of the normal world anymore,” I quip, and they both laugh.
“It is pretty crazy,” Bianca admits. “I mean, I've gotten used to it by now, but sometimes I am reminded that not everyone can have whatever they want with money as no object. I'm very lucky.”
I'll say. One of the wedding coordinators for the hotel finally meets up with us and escorts us to the Grand Ballroom and I have to say, it's the fanciest thing I've ever seen. Even if I could get into this place on short notice there's no way I could ever pay for it even if Jake, his parents, and my parents all pitched in. The way Bianca gasps when she walks in pretty much tells me that this is going to be the place. I don't blame her. It's beautiful.
Her mother deals with most of the details and Bianca and I just wander around the room, gawking at the gold and the ceilings and the walls and the chandeliers. She starts rambling about lights and Christmas trees and wreathes and how amazing it is going to look, but I can barely register any of it, I'm so in awe that she gets to get married here.
It isn't too long before they seal the deal and we leave the ballroom. Bianca and Mrs. Hampton walk arm in arm talking excitedly about decorations and guest lists and God knows what else, and I hang back a little, just trying to take everything in. Bianca and I talked about our weddings a lot as kids, and she used to want to get married on the beach. This is a far cry from a beach wedding with no shoes and a ukulele band, but a lot about Bianca had changed over the years.
I wander to one of the windows overlooking Central Park and realize how close I am to the spot where my friendship with Bianca was forever changed. That park was where Justin and I first kissed. Despite the fact that it took several weeks for my friendship to actually end, that was the moment when I lost my best friend. It feels weird standing here, in the place where she will get married to him, looking out over a memory like that.
“Taylor.”
I jump a little, as I usually do when someone takes me out of my head like that. I didn't hear Bianca walk up behind me. She is shockingly stealthy for a woman in 4 inch heels.
“It's a beautiful view, isn't it?” she asks, nodding out towards the park.
“Yeah, it is.” I force a smile. I realize I'm not sure that she knows that's where Justin and I kissed. I expect it probably isn't a very good idea to tell her.
“So, listen, Justin and I are going to meet up for dinner in about an hour. He's with Abe right now doing tux stuff, so Abe's gonna come with his wife too. We were wondering if you and Jake would like to join us?”
I hesitate. I would like to see my brother and his wife, Leah, and I have no objection to dinner with Bianca, but I know that Jake probably won't be too stoked at the prospect of an evening with Justin.
“I'm not sure. Let me give Jake a call and see where he's at with his friends.”
“Okay, sounds good.” Bianca gives me a big smile and hugs me out of nowhere. “Thanks for being here, Tay. It really means a lot.”
* * *
“I can't believe I let you talk me into this,” Jake groans as we walk arm in arm up to the restaurant in SoHo where we are meeting Bianca and the others for dinner. I roll my eyes at his whining.
“I didn't talk you in to anything, I just asked, and you said 'yes.' You have no one to blame but yourself,” I remind him.
“Yeah, well...I wasn't going to say you had to skip dinner with your brother and long estranged best friend just because her douche of a boyfriend is going to be there. That would be pretty lame of me.”
“That's why I love you,” I grin, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.
“I thought you loved me for my stunning good looks.”
“Well, that too, but your looks won't last forever.”
“Neither will my tolerance for dinner with assholes, so I guess you're pretty much screwed.”
Before I can respond, I'm practically knocked over by my brother Abraham, who is apparently very excited to see me. It has been a while, I haven't seen him since Hanukkah.
“Hi, Abe,” I greet him, my voice muffled since my face is in his shoulder.
“Hey, Tay!” He beams down at me, finally releasing me from his bear hug. He extends a hand to Jake for a manly handshake. “Jake.”
“Abe. How are you?”
“Great! So glad to see you guys. We're over here.” He waves us over to a little table in the corner where the others are already sitting. It's not a very big restaurant to begin with, very small and hipster, but they've clearly tried to find the most inconspicuous place in the joint.
As soon as we approach the table, Leah and Bianca stand up to hug me and Jake, exchanging pleasantries enthusiastically. I can see Justin out of the corner of my eye, looking at us nervously and clearly trying to decide how he should greet us. I haven't spoken to him in four years and he knows that Jake has never been his biggest fan, so it makes sense that he isn't sure how to react to us. Finally he stands up just as Bianca and Leah are sitting down.
“What's up, man?” he says to Jake, extending his hand to him much the same way that Abe did. I bite my lip waiting to see how my boyfriend will respond. I know he won't want to be nice, but he also kind of has to be friendly under the circumstances. I can see the brief struggle in his eyes before he responds.
“Hello,” he finally says tightly. He gives Justin's hand a quick shake before sitting down at one of the two empty seats at the end of the table. I sit down next to him, and Justin doesn't even speak a word to me, he just nods in my direction then returns to his seat on the other side of the table. The others are already too preoccupied in conversation to notice the awkwardness, and for that I am grateful.
The evening actually turns out a bit better than I expect it to. It helps to have my brother around. He's a big talker, very friendly, and still has a good relationship with everyone at the table, so every time the chatter dies down, he's able to get it going again.
“So, how's law school, Taylor?” Leah asks me.
“Crazy,” I reply. “It's hard to even be here right now, honestly, finals are coming up in a few weeks and every second I spend doing something other than studying kind of freaks me out.”
“Oh, I'm sorry.” Bianca actually looks really concerned. “I didn't realize this was such a bad time for you, and I'm asking you to help me plan a wedding! I'm sorry, you don't have to help more if you don't have time, my mom and I can probably handle it.”
“It's okay,” I assure her. “I'll make it work. I want to be able to help you with this.”
I'm a little surprised by how much I actually mean it.
I manage to make it through the entire dinner without talking to Justin at all. I don't know if anyone else notices, I feel like it should be obvious that one entire side of the table is avoiding him, but he's uncharacteristically quiet tonight anyway so no one seems to think anything of it. He's a stark contrast to his fiancée, who is all smiles and excitement about her upcoming wedding. He sames barely able to muster a smile about it. I catch him looking at me several times, but I try not to read into it too much.
We finally all say goodnight, and I am sad to see my family and friends go, but I know I'll see the girl again in a couple of weeks for a wedding shower anyway, so I try to not to get too upset. I'm almost happy about the fact that I'm sad to see Bianca go, and that she seems to feel the same way about me. It's been a long time since we've spent this much time together, and it's nice to finally feel like I have my friend back, if only temporarily, and even though she doesn't quite feel like my best friend again.
* * *
“Nice night out.”
I jump out of my skin, even more so than usual, when Justin approaches me as I'm standing outside the restaurant waiting for Jake to pull the car around. I wasn't expecting him to come out here, he and Bianca had stayed inside for another drink or two when the rest of us left, and more so I wasn't expecting him to talk to me after his silence all night.
“Yep,” I say shortly.
He pulls out a cigarette and lights it up and I frown at him.
“When did you start smoking?”
He shrugs. “I have on and off for a while. I just try not to make too much of a habit of it.”
“Hmm.”
I fold my arms and turn back away from him. The silence between us is uncomfortable, but I don't really have anything to say to him. What do you say to a person after four years? I could barely even remember the last conversation we'd had, but I'm sure it wasn't a pleasant one.
“So you still hate me? After all this time?” he finally asks.
“No,” I reply with a roll of my eyes. “I don't waste energy on hating you anymore. I don't see the point.”
“Ouch. I'm not even worth hating, that kind of hurts.”
“Why should it? You got the girl you wanted regardless of what it did to anyone else, you're marrying her, what does it matter to you what I think?”
“Nobody likes to be shut out, Taylor.”
“Yeah? Well, I think it's about time you get over it,” I snap. “Good night.”
With perfect, beautiful timing, Jake pulls up and I don't give Justin time to respond before getting into the car and pulling away.
“I can't believe that creep,” Jake spits as soon as we pull away. “What, was he just waiting until I wasn't around to come talk to you? What did he say?”
“Nothing.” I shrug.
“Nothing? Come on, Taylor, he had to have had something to say. He waited all night to get you alone so he could say it.”
I roll my eyes. “I don't think he had some grand scheme to get me alone to talk to me. He came out to smoke, I happened to be standing there waiting for you, it just happened.”
“Since when does he smoke?”
“What does it matter?” I snap, but I immediately sigh afterwards. “Why do I feel like we're fighting? I don't want to be fighting.”
“Then why don't you tell me what he said?”
“Because, he didn't say anything! He said it was a nice night and asked why I still hate him after all these years, that's it.”
“That's not nothing,” Jake mutters. I know he doesn't trust Justin, and I don't blame him, but I feel like I'm being accused of something here, and I don't really appreciate it.
There's a long, tense silence before he says anything else. “If Justin hadn't chosen Bianca...if he'd wanted to be with you instead all of those years ago...do you think it would be you making those wedding plans with him right now?” he finally asks. He sounds odd. Insecure. Jake is rarely insecure.
I realize for the first time in a long time that he is jealous of Justin. He thinks he was my consolation prize, not my first choice. To be honest, I don't know the answer to that. I don't know what would have happened if Justin had wanted to be with me, if he hadn't gone back to Bianca. I don't know if I ever would have chosen Jake over him.
“Honestly?” I ask him. He nods. “I really don't know. But I can tell you that I'm glad that didn't happen, because I definitely got the better man.”
I rub his arm in what I hope is a reassuring manner and I see him smile a little bit.
“Should I believe you?” he asks.
“Doesn't matter,” I shrug. “It's the truth. Justin not wanting to be with me is the best thing that ever happened to me. It led me to you.”
Author's Chapter Notes:
Yes, I suck at updating. Happy Valentine's Day!
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