[My Paper Heart 01.0] My Paper Heart Page 19
"Then you went to Louisiana. And you know I wasn't for it as much as your father was." She glanced up at me quickly, before looking back down at her mug. "But he thought it was what was best for you, and I hate to say it, but he was right."
"How so?" I cocked an eyebrow, leaning in with my whole body.
Mom rolled her eyes as she stood up from her chair. "Libby. I know how much you didn't fit in during high school, and let's face it, I’m no stranger to the Kappa hazing rituals."
She took another sip of her coffee as she headed over toward the chaise, leaning in toward me.
"Libby." She patted my knee and sat down next to me on the chaise. "At one point I was like you too. Hell, I only joined Kappa because I thought it would be the only way to get ahead in college."
She slipped an arm around me as I bent my head into the crook of her arm, pulling my legs into my chest.
"And don't get me wrong, I met some wonderful people through Kappa. But I think by meeting your father and starting out in my first law firm, I really found out who I was and grew as a person."
She looked down at me smiling and brushed a stray curl from my face.
"And I think you are finally starting to take after your mother."
∞
I almost turned my car around on at least five different occasions as I headed toward Kristi's parents' house. After the wedding, she and Gabe would be moving into a small two bedroom apartment in Wrigleyville. But for now she lived at her parents' sprawling North Shore estate, which, I think, was twice the size of my parent's house.
I didn't really understand why her parents needed that big of a house for just three people. They were both doctors, so they were always gone, and Kristi was an only child. I wondered if they would be selling it after the wedding. Of course it would either have to be a huge family, or just a very wealthy one that would want to move into their house.
I took a deep breath and parked my car, just past the big gated entrance. All the other bridesmaids already had their cars lined up and down the driveway, and soon the limo would be making its circle around their giant Grecian fountain. We would all pose for pictures in our usual fake smiles with our hands on our hips right in front of the fountain.
I wondered what Blaine would say about all this. Would he change his opinion about me, knowing that I hung out with girls that lived in gated mansions? I almost turned back again and drove away, just thinking about it. I thought if I started right then I could maybe be in Elsbury by the next morning. Then I could give Blaine a good swift kick in the butt, and then go out to Café Du Monde with Britt until Blaine came and begged for my forgiveness. It sounded wonderful.
But Kristi was my big sister. She'd been there for me more than enough times. Every time Beau cheated, she was there; every time I just needed a shoulder to cry on, she was there. So instead of turning around I walked across the cobblestone path and headed through the front door into one of the longest days of my life.
∞
I think the makeup artist's job was to make us look like a bunch of beauty queen porn stars. I think that Kristi just said to her, you know, I just want them to look like a porn star decided to become the next Miss America.
The hairstylist's job was to put our hair in what I thought looked like modern bee-hives. The stylist straightened the hell out of my hair, paving through it with a flat iron, before piling it into a big over hair-sprayed pouf on the top of my head. I really looked like an X-rated, blonde Loretta Lynn.
I looked at myself in the mirror. I didn't even recognize myself past the inch of foundation and mile high false eyelashes. But it looked like Kristi was happy with her same painted face and mile-high hair. Well at least she seemed happy in between her snarling bridezilla moments. Her mom is a psychiatrist; she really should have slipped her something before she almost took down the florist and two bridesmaids. Now they were just casualties in the bridezilla aftermath.
Kristi had us all get in our dresses before the grand finale of helping her in her dress, which I think she needed all of us for. Her dress was an over twenty thousand dollar, custom-made gown that she had worked on with some famous designer in New York City. It was big, and over the top, and if you would have put a red wig on it and spray painted it orange it could have been Kristi's personality twin.
All the bridesmaids assembled in Kristi's bedroom. Each one of us pulled our dresses off of the hanger, eager to just get them on. It wasn't the most flattering dress for every girl, with its low-cut sweetheart neckline and tea-length hem. But it was what Kristi wanted, and it was a very cute dress, at least on the hanger.
I slowly slid off my sweat suit and stepped into the dress. It was definitely a bit more snug since I had tried it on at the beginning of the summer. In fact, maybe a little too snug. In May, I had been able to zipper up the dress on my own, but this time it kept getting stuck at about the middle of my back. I called another bridesmaid over to help me, but she couldn't get it. So she called another girl over to help us.
"Oh it's not you honey," she cooed. "I think this zipper is just having some issues."
"Damn, how much weight did you put on Libby?" Lacey quacked from across the room.
She sauntered over toward us, a few other girls were snickering beside her. "You better not let Kristi see you. She will flip shit," she whispered before taking a big gulp of her champagne.
I wanted to cry. I knew I had put on weight over the summer, but I didn't think it was that bad. I didn't know what I would do. The wedding was in only a few hours, and my dress didn't fit. I was a big yellow whale.
"What's going on in here?"
I snapped my head to see Kristi in the doorway. Her hair was all done with her veil in it, but she wore nothing more than a white corset top and a pair of blue panties. I guess she was waiting for us to help her into her dress.
I froze when I saw her. I knew if she would have seen that my eyes were watering, she would have added that to the complaints that I didn't fit in the dress. Ruining the dress now the makeup, minus two points for Libby.
"Looks like your little, isn't so little anymore!" Lacey cackled along with a few other girls.
"Shut up, Lacey." Kristi snapped as she ran toward me. I never had heard her yell at Lacey before. Lacey was like her little pet. And I could tell Lacey was a surprised too, since her jaw was almost to the floor.
"Now what's going on?" She looked down and assessed the zipper situation.
"We can't get it to zip…" One of the girl's whispered, preparing for a meltdown.
"Kristi I’m so, so—" Kristi cut me off with a single wave of her hand.
"Don't worry about it, Libby." She turned toward one of the girl's who was helping me with my zipper. "Tiff, go get a needle and thread from my mom."
"Libby honey, you are gonna get sewn up in this bitch, so I hope you don't plan on getting lucky."
It was the first time I heard Kristi laugh all day, and I think it was the first time I had laughed in a while.
Chapter 27
With me sewn into my dress, it was time for Kristi to get into her giant ball gown. It took about five of us to actually get her into it, and then another three to smooth out the back and extend the cathedral train. I could see why she needed so many bridesmaids.
We all grabbed our flowers, pink Stargazer lilies of course, the Kappa flower, and headed into the giant stretch limo after a barrage of pictures in front of Kristi's house. I didn't know how much more fake smiles and posing I could take. I felt like it was recruitment all over again. But for the first time in this entire wedding process, Kristi actually seemed genuinely happy. She smiled and joked with the photographer, laughed at her dad's stupid jokes, and even gave Lacey some extra lipstick.
It was going to be a long day, and I knew that from the start. A day of watching two people profess their love to each other for all to see; when I had someone, whom I loved, who couldn't even profess his love just to me.
Now I was raised Catholic. My dad's family w
as from Louisiana, so naturally they were all big Catholics. My parents would take my sister and I to church every Sunday morning, followed by catechism afterwards. Once I was confirmed, we stopped going as regularly and became the Christmas and Easter Catholics. That was until I moved to Elsbury.
Like clockwork Aunt Dee would wake Britt and I up and we would go to church, followed by brunch with the bridge club. Instead of focusing on mass though, I usually focused on Blaine sitting in the pew next to me, and thinking how good he looked when he was all dressed up. But, Kristi and Gabe were neither Catholic, nor Southern, and Blaine definitely wasn't going to be sitting next to me looking very uncomfortable in a tie.
Kristi and Gabe's wedding was on the beach. Hundreds of chairs were piled up to the gazebo that met the shoreline as we pulled into the resort. How the staff managed to fit enough chairs for the four-hundred guests was amazing to me. The chairs were all lined with pink and yellow flowers with a giant white runner leading down to the gazebo where a nervous Gabe and the preacher stood.
The lady in the muumuu was, of course, there to greet us as soon as we go to the resort, clucking orders and lining us up with the groomsmen. I felt awkward standing next to Beau. Not just because he was my ex, but since Kristi had required that the bridesmaids wear three inch silver heels, I was way taller than him. I had to completely slouch, so that I didn't look like an Amazon woman with her captured prey.
Bach's Largo played as we slowly walked down toward the cascading waves of Lake Michigan, I couldn't help but scan the crowd for Blaine. The whole time during the ceremony, when I should have been paying attention to the vows and to Kristi, I kept hoping for one of those moments out of the movies. I thought that Blaine would just come in, interrupt the ceremony in some dramatic fashion, maybe running with a bunch of wait staff chasing him, and then he would profess his love to me. We would kiss in the middle of the aisle and then everyone would clap and some classic love song would play. Of course none of this ever happened.
The wedding ended, the bride and groom kissed, and people cheered as they walked out; UB40's Can't Help Falling in Love, played as we all walked back down the aisle.
Between the ceremony and reception we all assembled on the beach for pictures. Millions of the same poses, where we were supposed to look 'spontaneous' and 'natural,' but really we were just being directed by a very short Hispanic photographer with a lisp and bad goatee to 'smile this way' or 'act surprised.' I never thought one could be so exhausted from smiling. Of course, even though it was photography time, most of the groomsmen decided that the party had already started.
"Hey, hey Libby."
Beau's breath smelled like turpentine as he whispered in my ear. It was actually more of a quiet yell with his hot breath lapping against my cheek. We were stuck in some cheesy prom pose for about fifty frames and I was really getting tired of having his sweaty hands all over my waist.
"What, Beau?" I gritted through my teeth. I was still smiling, only because I had to for pictures, but my tone make it clear that I was annoyed.
"Isn't it awesome that there is going to be open bar all night? It's like being VIP."
He staggered. The photographer had to stop at least six more times, just to make sure he got the right shot between a bunch of wobbly groomsmen.
"I really don't think you need to be having any more time at the bar, maybe you should head over to the hors d’oeuvres table."
He aimlessly waved a hand before going back into a shit eating grin and wrapping his arms around me. I wondered if he would be acting like this if Blaine was there, but obviously I didn't know what that was like. I was starting to think that I never would again.
The beach was transformed in what was only a matter of a few hours. Going from a beautiful, seaside wedding to a romantic reception. Dozens of tiki torches lined the beach, reflecting off the water and pairing with the fading sunset to create an array of oranges and reds dancing on the surface of the water. Table after table were decorated with lilies and candles, as men in tuxes carried trays of little canapés and shrimp.
I stood in awe looking at the twinkling lights above me, wondering how one could possibly string lights from mid-air like that. But my awe was quickly dismissed when Beau, and the other groomsmen, pushed their way past me to get to the bar. I swear I saw the bartender's eyes widen behind his bamboo hut when he saw ten guys in tuxes barreling toward him. I rolled my eyes again and headed toward the head table. I wasn't in the mood to drink, or to even be there. Being at the ceremony really made me realize, Blaine wasn't coming, and he probably never would again. I was really alone. But I would be okay. I just wanted to get back to Louisiana more than anything. My mom was right, Kappa may have been the best thing at the time, but now it just wasn't me anymore, and I was really getting sick of Beau and his grabby hands.
∞
Dinner was as fabulous and over the top as the rest of the day. I never knew that seven-course meals actually existed, but apparently they did. Our faces were continually stuffed with dish after dish of food. Beau continued his flirting and didn't seem to get the hint that I wasn't interested.
"Hey, Libby. Hey, Libby," he slurred, leaning his whole body in to me. No matter what I did I couldn't lean away. He was practically spitting on my swordfish.
"What Beau?" I tried not to look at him, and create a barrier with my hand wresting on my cheek, while I swirled the asparagus around on my plate.
"You know I'm doing my internship at Trump tower in Chicago, so while you're living there I'll get to see you every day." He sounded like an excited little kid, albeit a slurring, stumbling one.
The night before, my sister had decided to tell everyone about her pregnancy, and somehow that led into the discussion about my parents moving. I almost completely forgot that Beau was supposed to be doing an internship there. It made me want to move back to Louisiana even more. Get the heck away from that train wreck.
"That's great, Beau." I didn't even look at him as I spoke, staring blankly at my plate. Just because Blaine had left me didn't mean I was going to go crawling back to Chicago and back to Beau.
After the final course, Gabe and Kristi headed to the dance floor as the DJ announced it was time for their first dance. A slow country song played. I used to make fun of Kristi all through school about her love of country music. We were both wealthy girls from the Chicago suburbs, so her love of country music never made sense to me, until now. After being in Louisiana, and falling in love, I finally understood the meaning to all of those country songs. I could feel the tears trying to push through my eyes. Slowly I moved my chair back and tried to sneak away, but before I could, a cold hand gripped my wrist.
"Hey." Lacey slurred. "You can't leave yet, we have the bridal party dance!" She smiled a big toothy grin at me, like everything was just perfect between us.
I smiled weakly back and slid back into my seat, choking back my tears. Luckily other people were tearing up as well, so they just thought I was being sentimental. Little did they know what was actually going through my head.
Suddenly every song from the first dance to the father-daughter dance, made me think of Blaine. Thinking of all the times we would be riding in his truck and he would loudly sing along with some obscure song on the radio just to make me laugh, but I wasn't laughing now. I wasn't there surrounded by people I loved or who cared about me, except for maybe Kristi. Sometimes I didn't understand why things happened, but I guess everything does happen for a reason. I hoped someday I would see the bigger picture.
The DJ announced that it was time for the bridal party to join the bride and groom on the dance floor. The moment I was dreading. Beau couldn't hide his excitement. His clammy hand grabbed mine as we got up from the table. I was too emotionally exhausted to even resist. He pulled me close and I slid my arms around his neck, trying not to make eye contact.
"You know Libby, this is a sign," he stammered. "Why else would we be here dancing at Kristi's wedding if we weren't supposed to be together?"
I wanted to shout: because we were paired together as a bridesmaid and groomsmen for our friends’ wedding you big oaf!
But I didn't. I said nothing. I just swayed in silence as the song played, and he continued to blabber on. Maybe this was where I was supposed to be. Maybe somebody was really telling me that this is where I belonged. Maybe I was always supposed to be the socialite with the boyfriend that cheats on me. I should have never gotten a taste of something else, because that wasn't where I was supposed to be.
But then I didn't know why it felt to right to be in Blaine's arms, sitting on a bench outside the antique shop. I didn't know why I felt more alive standing in Aunt Dee's kitchen and mixing a bowl of grits then I did while I stood with Beau on the dance floor. I was confused and just wanted to get away.
As soon as the song ended, I quickly slipped off the dance floor. Luckily, Beau had run to the bar as soon as the song was over and hadn't noticed that I left. My heels were sinking in the sand, so I quickly slid them off and started farther down the beach. The moon was completely full and reflected off the water, making it look like it was floating right on top of it. I walked as far as I could, while still being able to hear the wedding going on behind me, before sitting on a bench a few feet away from the water's edge. I dug my feet into the cold sand and it felt great against my poor feet that spent all day in very uncomfortable heels.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket. I looked at the picture on the background. I still didn't have the heart to change it. It was a picture of Blaine and me, when everything was still good. It was a picture I took on my phone the same night he had asked me to be his girlfriend. It wasn't exactly a flattering picture of either of us. He looked sunburned from spending all day outside, after one of the hottest days of the year, and I believe I had a milk mustache from an ice cream sundae. But no matter what I looked like on the outside, I could tell that I also looked genuinely happy.