Kamille
“Ohmigosh, oven mitts! Thank you, Grandma Ferguson!”
Kamille fake-smiled and did her best to sound polite. Enthusiastic, even. She didn’t care so much about Grandma Ferguson or the rest of the bridal shower guests; she mostly cared about the TV cameras that were trained on her. She didn’t want to come across to her future viewers as some sort of spoiled bitch who only wanted Tiffany and Bloomingdale’s.
Even though that’s exactly what she wanted.
Grandma Ferguson beamed. “You’re welcome, dear! I knitted them myself for you and Charles.”
“Chase.”
“What, dear?”
“Chase!”
“What are we chasing, honeybunch?”
Kamille sighed. “Nothing, Grandma.”
She turned the hideous puke-tan oven mitts over in her hand, wondering how much longer the shower was going to last. She gazed out at the dining room full of relatives (close, distant, and unidentifiable) and friends (ditto), all of whom had agreed to sign release forms and wear microphones so they could be filmed for the show. Four TV camera guys were positioned in different strategic spots, missing nothing, and the lighting crew had transformed Café Romero from a cozy restaurant into a brightly lit set.
Kat was going from table to table greeting their guests and also overseeing the food and drinks. Kamille wasn’t sure, but her mother seemed preoccupied about something.
Looking bored (as usual), Kyle thrust another present at Kamille, wrapped in silver paper with the word FOREVER on it in fancy cursive. All the girls in the bridal party had been assigned a job, and Kyle’s was to hand Kamille her gifts.
“I think it’s wineglasses or whatever,” Kyle said in a low voice. “I can hear broken glass inside.” She put the box up to her ear and shook it.
Kamille heard it, too. “Oh, fuck!” she said loudly, before she could stop herself. Hank, the director, gave her a withering look. She was definitely not supposed to drop the F-bomb when they were filming. She mouthed “Sorry!” and began unwrapping.
Kass was sitting in a chair nearby, balancing a legal pad on her lap and jotting down which gift was from whom. That was her job, so Kamille could write everyone thank-you notes later. Kamille couldn’t imagine having to write a hundred thank-you notes by hand—hadn’t anyone ever heard of group e-mails? But Hank wanted to make a scene out of it. He’d even suggested that it might be “funny” if Kamille and her sisters mixed up the envelopes and sent the wrong thank-you notes to the wrong people. Yeah, LOL!
Kass was tired looking and cranky, as usual. Some women seemed to blossom with their pregnancies; Kass was the opposite. The show’s makeup crew had done their best to cover up her dark circles and splotchy skin. (Did being pregnant give a person zits? Kamille was going to have to be careful with that one when she and Chase started their family.) They’d also tried to get her into a nice, stylish maternity outfit, versus the oversize black T-shirt and baggy leggings that had become her daily uniform, and contact lenses (like she used to wear) instead of her nerdy glasses.
But Kass wasn’t having any of that. She could be so stubborn—almost as stubborn as Kamille. And Kyle. And Kat. It must be a Romero family trait.
After the (broken) wine goblets came the next present, in a large gift bag with a picture of Winnie-the-Pooh on it. A pair of white leather baby shoes hung from the massive pink-and-pastel-blue bow.
Winnie-the-Pooh? Baby shoes? Kamille was confused. She reached inside and pulled out something that looked like a small gaming console.
“It’s a breast pump for when you can’t be there to nurse your little one,” her great-aunt Beatrice spoke up from one of the center tables. “They didn’t have those when I was young! You put it on your breast, like this, and when you flip the switch your milk comes out.” She demonstrated with her hands.
“Yeah, Kamille. I bet Chase’ll love helping you with that,” Simone called out, giggling.
Really? In front of Aunt Beatrice and all the other old ladies in the room? And Chase’s mom, for God’s sake? “Shut the fuck up, Simone,” Kamille snapped.
Hank gave her another scathing look.
“I meant, shut the heck up. Aunt Beatrice, you’re so generous! And thoughtful! But you know, Kass is the one who’s having a baby. I’m getting married. This is my wedding shower.”
“Oh!” Aunt Beatrice frowned. “Which one is Kass? Is he the tall boy with the glasses?”
Kass slunk down in her chair.
Just get this thing over with, Kamille told herself. Chase was waiting for her at home with a bottle of her favorite Chardonnay on ice. They were going to have a rare night in, together, without the cameras. She couldn’t wait.
Kyle handed Kamille more gifts. As she opened them, she cast a sideways glance at the large table of Goodall women in front: Chase’s mother; Chase’s sister, Amanda; a couple of aunts; and an assortment of cute blond cousins ranging in age from eight to eighteen. Chase’s mom didn’t look like she was having a good time. In fact, she was staring pointedly at her skinny diamond watch, like she had somewhere very important she’d rather be.
Kamille had finally met Mrs. Goodall and Amanda and the rest of the family the day after Christmas, when she and Chase had driven to Laguna Beach to announce their engagement. She was surprised to find that somehow, they weren’t the superhappy, supertight clan Chase had made them out to be. His father was a big drinker. His mother didn’t drink at all but quoted the Bible a lot. Amanda seemed weirdly possessive about Chase and kept making snide, bitchy comments to Kamille. Chase’s two brothers sat in front of the TV the whole time watching football and ignored everyone.
Chase had apologized about them afterward, saying that it had been an “off” night and they hadn’t been themselves. Kamille wasn’t sure what to think; he hadn’t taken her back to Laguna since that time, and today was the first time she’d seen any of the Goodalls since then.
But really, who cared? Kamille was marrying Chase, not Chase’s family. And he was practically perfect. Especially in the last five months since their engagement. Sure, he was busy with the team and on the road so much. But when he was home, he was so sweet and attentive to her. For a brief period, around New Year’s, the bad fights and the binge-drinking and the drama had resurfaced again. But then they went away again. These days, their relationship was stronger than ever.
“Last one,” Kyle whispered as she gave Kamille a large pink box.
Kamille opened it. It was her gift from Chase’s mom: a leather-bound Bible. With rainbow-colored Post-it notes sticking out of it.
“Oh, wow, thank you so much!” Kamille said through clenched teeth. Smile and be polite, she reminded herself. She had nothing against Bibles—in fact, quite the opposite. Still, it seemed like a weird wedding shower gift, especially with the Post-it notes.
Mrs. Goodall patted her platinum-blond updo. “I’ve marked the important passages for you. The ones about how to be a good wife to my firstborn son.”
Kamille stared at her with wide eyes. Wow. Mrs. Goodall was just about the craziest woman she’d ever met, which was saying a lot. And she was about to become Kamille’s mother-in-law.
Maybe she and Chase should start drinking heavily again.