The I Do Crew
I braced myself outside the bridal boutique on a Gold Coast side street off Michigan Avenue.
Kelly had always been known for her fiery temper, but she rarely—if ever—directed it toward me. Maybe I should’ve alerted her, sent her a text at least, like Hey, friend, just wanted to let you know that I need your old room for that hot, young bartender from O’Leary’s and his big, slobbery dog, so I’m moving your mom’s quilt and your grandma’s ceramics up to the top floor. I’m sure you won’t mind, since you’re already living with the guy you kept secret from me for months, and if your grandma’s painted Christmas tree from the eighties was so important to you, you would’ve taken it with you by now.
I exhaled. No. Not helpful. I had to be the bigger person today. Kelly was under a lot of stress, and I, as her maid of honor, would do my part and make sure dress shopping went smoothly.
I gripped the door handle at Angel Heart Bridal Boutique and readied my most pleasant and agreeable smile. I vowed to keep my opinions to myself unless asked and my sarcastic comments to a minimum.
A bell chimed as I stepped over the threshold. Kelly, Yessi, and Kelly’s younger sister, Kendall, sat together on a plush pink couch, poring over a catalog. They looked up as I walked in.
I swallowed, steeling myself for Kelly’s rage.
But instead of berating me or biting my head off, Kelly, smiling brightly—too brightly—jumped up, wrapped me in a stiff hug, and rushed me over to the couch.
Good. Either she’d gotten over her annoyance with me or she’d come to the same conclusion I had: repress feelings until the anger subsides.
Yessi, grinning, squeezed my hand. “Hi, Annie.”
“Hey.” I beamed at her. “This will be fun.”
She handed me a mimosa and leaned in to whisper, “We are way too old for this shit.”
Damn it. Yessi and I had always bonded over our mutual distaste for rituals like this. But I would not be drawn into her web of sassy bitterness today, even though I had not been in a bridal shop in ten years, and even though I’d felt too old for this shit all the way back then. I just smiled and repeated, “This will be fun.”
Yessi eyed me suspiciously and backed away.
“Now that Annie’s here, we can get to work.” Kelly pulled an old photograph up on her iPad. “This is what we’re looking for.” She passed the tablet to Kendall, who then passed it to me. On screen was a photo of a bride surrounded by seven bridesmaids wearing the same long maroon sheath dress with a plunging neckline, which was covered by a matching feathery overcoat that gave off a lingerie robe vibe. These women looked like they were headed to only the classiest 1970s key party.
I pressed my lips shut.
I passed the iPad to Yessi, whose eyes bugged out.
“Mark has very specific ideas for this wedding,” Kelly said. “He’d like us to try and recreate his parents’ wedding motif as much as possible, but since we’re getting married in August—”
My eyes snapped to her. “Wait,” I said. “This August? As in, like—”
“Yes,” she said, sighing. “Six weeks from now. You knew that.”
I shook my head. “No, I didn’t.” Another thing she hadn’t told me. This was becoming a pattern.
“Sure you did,” she said stiffly. “Mark pulled some strings and was able to book us the inn at the resort in Galena on short notice.”
“Oh…” Calm down, Annie. Be agreeable. Don’t poke the bear. I relaxed my nostrils, which were threatening to flare. “Neat.”
Kelly rolled her eyes. “Is that a problem?”
I paused and reaffixed my calm and relaxed smile. “Nope. No problem at all.”
Kelly turned to Yessi. “What do you think?”
“These dresses are…” I watched Yessi hunt for the most tactful phrase, but all she came up with was, “I’m not sure a dress like that can wrangle in my lactating boobs.”
Kelly snatched back her iPad. “They don’t have to be exactly the same. Obviously.” She studied the picture for a moment. “Mark says maroon isn’t a deal breaker, either, if we can’t find anything that exact color. Brick red or burgundy would also work fine.”
Yessi elbowed me in the side. “Those are all the same colors, right?” she said under her breath.
I folded my hands in my lap and bit my tongue.
“Heaven forbid we accidentally choose a claret red!” Yessi whispered. “Mark would positively perish!”
I snickered. Then I let out an inadvertent snort. Yessi, that comedic temptress, had gotten me to break. I clutched my hands together harder and pressed my lips together, my eyes watering.
Though Yessi had been the one who made the joke, Kelly’s eyes shot daggers right at me.
“Sorry.” I lowered my gaze in shame and sipped my beverage.
“Do we even have time to order dresses?” Kendall asked, holding an extremely short gold dress up to her lithe twenty-something body. Oh heck no, my friend. The almost-forties outnumbered the younger ladies in this group. We’d wear housecoats before we’d agree to a micro minidress. “My best friend got married last summer, and we had to order the dresses months and months in advance.”
“We don’t have time, Kendall,” Kelly snapped. “I’m aware of that. We’ll need to find something off the rack.”
“In burgundy? That fits everyone?” Yessi muttered. She, Kendall, and I weren’t exactly the same size and shape. “You know, this is why Polly and I told our friends to find their own black dresses—”
“Well, we’re going to try at least,” Kelly barked. She slammed her iPad down on the coffee table and stormed off to the dressing rooms. Kendall followed her.
“Shit,” Yessi said. “I haven’t seen her like this since she was trying to pass the real estate exam. Is this all wedding stress?”
“I don’t know,” I lied.
“She’s usually good at this party-planning stuff. It’s like her version of yoga.” Yessi chuckled. “Remember when she organized that surprise party for my thirtieth birthday, and every single thing possible went wrong?”
“Oh my god, yes,” I said, smiling. “They put, like, a cup of salt in your cake.”
“Kel was cool as Fonzie when that happened.”
The two of us glanced at the doorway leading to the dressing rooms. Kelly and Kendall were pawing through a rack of dresses, arguing with each other.
“This whole thing is moving pretty fast,” Yessi said softly.
“Well…” I sipped my drink. “We’re not getting any younger. I’m not surprised she wants to have the wedding as soon as possible.” I couldn’t fault Kelly for that. I was currently in two budding relationships that promised to bypass dating altogether. Why waste time?
“But it’s like, just take a beat and relax. It’s only a party. And if it’s going to stress you out that much, just elope.” She grabbed another mimosa for herself. “We’re almost forty. Who needs a wedding?”
“I’m not sure this is all wedding stress today,” I said, glancing again at the doorway. The sisters were still at each other’s throats. I stood, motioning for Yessi to follow me away from the dressing rooms, toward the front of the store. She and her mimosa trailed me to a rack of sale dresses in all colors of the rainbow.
I flipped through the hangers, stopping on a turquoise blue monstrosity with a big taffeta bow in the middle of the chest.
Yessi fingered the fabric. “I don’t think that one will pass muster with Mark.”
“Kelly came over this morning,” I said, “and…” I stopped on another dress, this one red and vampy with a neckline down to there. How to explain to Yessi the scene Kelly had walked in on this morning? I was a nearly forty-year-old woman, who’d just started platonically shacking up with a much younger bartender I barely knew and his dog.
“And…?” Yessi prompted.
I pulled her even deeper into the racks of dresses. Satin and lace surrounded us. I couldn’t do it. I loved Yessi, and I respected her opinions, which she was all too happy to give. To everyone. She never, ever minced words. Which was why something had been bothering me. “Why did Kelly tell you about Mark and not me?”
Yessi squeezed my shoulder. “I told you. They had a legal question. It wasn’t like she came running to me the day they met or anything.” She leaned out of the rack and looked around. Then she returned to me. “I don’t think she would’ve told me if she didn’t have to.”
“What’s going on with her?”
Yessi sighed. “I’ve been talking to Polly about this, and she just thinks that friendships change, and sometimes they run their course and end.” She shrugged, her eyes glassy. “Maybe Kelly is done with us, and she’s pushing us away now to make the eventual break easier.”
My lip started quivering, so I bit it. “That can’t be it,” I said. “I mean, we’re here right now. She asked us to be in her wedding.”
“It could be the swan song for our friendship.” She pulled me into a hug. “I know it sucks, but what can you do?”
I straightened up, knocking her off me. I wiped my eyes. “Well, I’m not going to do nothing. We’ve been friends for twenty years, and she doesn’t get to throw that all away for some wine guy from the middle of nowhere.”
I marched toward the dressing rooms, grabbing every maroon-ish dress I could find on the way. Kelly and Kendall sat on the couch together, looking intently through a book of dresses. “Kelly,” I said, draping the dresses I’d found over the back of the nearest chair. “I’m sorry I moved your things without telling you. I shouldn’t have done that.”
She blinked. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”
“You still always have a room in my house. It may not be the same room—”
Buzz!
“It may not be the same room—”
Buzz again.
“That’s your phone, Annie,” Kelly said.
“No,” I said, “let me finish this.”
Buzz!
“Damn it.” I reached into my purse and found my phone. A patient had a question about a persistent fever. “I have to call them, but we’ll finish our conversation in a minute.”
“No, Annie.” Kelly’s eyes dropped back down to the dress book. “We won’t. We never do.”