*Beep*
Delilah, it’s Mom. Wedding bells are ringing!
Make sure you check in at the Waldorf by ten o’clock this morning. After that, meet all us ladies in the lobby at 10:30 for our spa day at Bliss. Don’t be offended, but I booked you a little more time than the rest of us—your eyebrows really need a waxing, as does your upper lip. I sure hope you’ll be done with everything by the time rehearsal starts at six.
I was thinking…maybe you should tell Nate to skip dinner tonight and just join you tomorrow. You’ll be red from being poked at all day and it’s probably not a good idea if he sees you like that. Okay, see you in a jiffy!
*Beep*
Hey, it’s Daisy. I can’t believe it’s wedding time! I’m dying!
Don’t worry about picking up your dress from Saks—they’re going to deliver it to the hotel with mine.
Can’t wait to see you!
wedding bell blues
friday, june 17
The night of the fight, when I walked away from Colin, I didn’t know what to do. Well, I did in a way. I knew not to cry, but that was about it. I was fighting back tears. It was painful to walk away from him. It almost hurt, I swear. I’ve grown really close to him in the last few months, and the thought of possibly never talking to him again felt like a stake through my heart. To make it worse, when I turned the corner and saw Nate standing alone waiting for me, when I looked him in the eye, I felt a pit in my stomach. He looked guilty.
Neither of us said anything to each other in the taxi on the way home that night. We both just sat there in silence, holding hands but looking out opposite windows. Things have been awkward ever since. When we got back to Nate’s, he fell asleep quickly while I stayed up rehashing the night in my head. I kept trying to remember if I saw something odd between him and either of the two girls sitting next to us, but I couldn’t. The truth is that I barely paid attention to them. I barely paid attention to Nate. The only person I paid attention to was Colin.
Going over the night in my head soon had me remembering what Daisy said about Ally, which soon had me thinking about the odd phone call Nate said he had with Charlie about Cristin being sick. After double-checking to make sure he was asleep, I found Nate’s cell phone and, before I could stop myself, started going through all the calls he placed and received that day. I hated myself for doing it because I’ve never been a jealous girlfriend, but my gut told me something wasn’t right. Although I prepared myself to find the worst, I didn’t find anything, which in a way was the worst. The entire call history on Nate’s phone had been erased. Not a good sign. At that point I started to wonder if maybe I rushed back into things too quickly. Although I’ve known him for fifteen years, I don’t really know Nate. Realizing this got me thinking about Colin again. I was so worried that I’d feel this way about him when I got back from my little trip, but the opposite proved to be true. I feel like I know Colin now better than I know Nate.
I fell asleep on the sofa that night. When I woke up the next morning, I felt slightly better. Things were still awkward between Nate and me, but without the martinis to cloud our minds, everything was a little easier to deal with. We ended up going to a place around the corner for breakfast, a place called Bubby’s. By the time the food came, we started talking but still hadn’t said anything to each other about the previous evening. On the way home, I decided to let it go and instead brought something else up. “Hey, do you by any chance know a girl named Ally Hathaway?” I casually asked him.
Nate shook his head. “No. Should I?”
“Not necessarily. She went to our high school, that’s all. I was just thinking about her and was curious if you knew her.”
“No, sorry.” He seemed sincere; I believed him.
I ended up going home Monday night. When I did, I bravely knocked on Colin’s door. I was hoping to tell him that I was sorry, but he didn’t answer, so I left him a message asking him to call me. By Tuesday he hadn’t called back, so I sent him an e-mail. Again, I got nothing. Wednesday evening I went to Michelle’s for dinner—I hadn’t seen her in what seemed like ages—and while I was there, I asked if she had seen Colin recently.
“Yeah, I saw him leaving early Monday morning with a suitcase,” she said.
“A suitcase?” I asked, and then I couldn’t breathe.
I ended up telling Michelle everything. When I did, when I was done, she shook her head and told me she wasn’t surprised. “Going back to when you checked yourself into rehab, when I knocked on Colin’s door freaking out, he was really concerned about you,” she explained, “more concerned than a random neighbor would be.” She said she had a funny feeling about the two of us that day. Hearing this made me want to cry again because the reality of the situation sunk in—what if I never saw him again? I mean, assuming he took the soap opera job in LA. What if he moved away for good and we never talked to each other again?
After consoling me, Michelle encouraged me to reschedule my Vintage Vogue interview, saying that I needed to get some structure back in my life. She couldn’t be more right. We ended up calling her boss that night and setting something up for next week. As much as I’d love to go on vacation and run around the world with Nate, I can’t put my own dreams on hold to do so.
Anyway, while packing my bag for the Waldorf this morning, I begin to feel as if I’ve been lived a hundred years in the last few months. Thinking back to when all this started, thinking back to Roger, it seems so long ago.
After Eva hops in her bag, the two of us make our way downstairs and try to flag down a taxi, which proves to be hell. It’s been raining for a week straight, ever since Nate and I were walking back from Bubby’s, actually. After waiting on the corner for a while, we eventually get one.
After arriving at the Waldorf safely, I wait at the check-in counter and wonder what kind of room I’ll have. I hope it’s a nice one, one with a good view. I need to look out at this big beautiful city and clear my mind. When the man standing behind the counter is done pressing buttons, he hands me a key card. “You’re room is Five-D,” he says.
“Five-D?” This concerns me. “Does that mean it’s on the fifth floor?”
The man nods. “Yes.”
I make a face. I’m disappointed. “I was hoping for something higher, something with a nice view.”
“I’m sorry, but right now we don’t have another room available. We’re totally booked. But I assure you, you’ll like the room.”
“Okay,” I say, reluctantly taking the keycard. “Thanks.”
After a short elevator ride, I locate my room and unlock the heavy wooden door. When I push it open, I see that it’s decorated in rich burgundy and burnt mustard tones. It’s warm and cozy, which, with all the rain, is actually kind of nice. I put Eva down and then walk over to the window and pull back the bulky curtains to see the view. Looking out, I’m pleasantly surprised to find myself with a view of Park Avenue. Things definitely could be worse.
After meeting Daisy, my mom, Patsy, and Ruth in the lobby for spa day, we all catch a cab to Bliss, a spa in Soho. For the rest of the day, while being steamed, massaged, plucked, painted and waxed (which my upper lip did not need, for the record), I think about what to do. Things have been too weird with Nate and I need to make a decision. I need to either put everything behind me, give him the benefit of the doubt, and move on, or I need to confront him and possibly end things. Seeing me in deep thought, Daisy can tell something’s wrong. She asks if it’s about Nate. I tell her yes.
“Did you say something to him about Ally?” she asks.
“Kind of,” I say, “and he denied even knowing her.”
Daisy gives me a compassionate smile. “Del, when you’re really in love, when it’s the right guy, it’s not this hard, you know? Things fall into place; they work. If it’s meant to be, it’ll work itself out.” I nod; I know it will. “Is he coming to the rehearsal dinner tonight?”
“Yeah,” I say, “against Mom’s better judgment.” As I tell Daisy this, I make a decision. Sort of. I decide to make a decision at the end of Daisy’s wedding weekend. If things between Nate and I go well, if they seem like they’re going back to normal, then I’ll forget about everything and concentrate on making it work. If not, then…well, we’ll see.
That evening after the rehearsal, my family and Edward’s family go to the Manhattan Ocean Club for dinner. When we arrive my low spirits perk up when I look across the room and see my grandpa (or a man who resembles the grandpa I remember) standing in front of me. Standing next to him is Gloria. They just drove in from Vegas and came straight here.
“Grandpa!” I scream, running toward him. I throw my arms around him. “I’m so happy to see you!” After giving him the biggest hug ever, I let go, back up and give him a once-over. Oh, dear…I love my grandpa, but I don’t know what to make of him. He’s dyed his hair and eyebrows an unnatural dark brown color, and he’s wearing a white linen shirt unbuttoned down to his belly, three necklaces (leather, silver, turquoise), an oversized Western silver buckle on a carved brown leather belt (which I’m guessing is the one he made), and a scarf tied around his neck. He looks like a…a…a gigolo. Seeing me eye him, Gloria hits his chest with the back of her hand (which is, yes, waxed smooth.)
“This one,” she says, “thinks he’s Warren Beatty in Shampoo.”
Or yes, he looks like him, too.
“The next thing you know,” she continues, “he’s gonna start carrying a blow dryer around in a holster and trade in his Camaro for a motorcycle.”
My grandpa rolls his eyes. “Please, Gloria! Enough with remarks already!” He sounds slightly irritated. When Gloria rolls her eyes and walks away, I turn to him.
“Grandpa, what’s wrong?”
“Well…” he says, hesitating for a bit. “Gloria and I broke up.”
Broke up? I’m thrown for a loop. “Why?”
“To be completely honest, Darlin’, I never realized how many fish there are in the sea.”
Come again?
“We haven’t been getting along that well and I keep meeting all these other ladies—nice ladies—who made me realize that it was silly to force something that wasn’t working.”
“Okay,” I say slowly, understanding this all. “Then why is she here?”
“We already made the plans so she came with anyway. You know, we still get along, but she just isn’t it.” My grandpa looks sad as he says this.
“You’re upset about this, I can tell.”
“Yeah,” my grandpa nods. “You know, even if you know something doesn’t have a chance in hell of surviving, it’s still sad when it dies.”
Just then I look up and see Nate walking through the door. Dressed in a blue suit, he smiles when he sees me. As he walks in my direction, I look back to my grandpa. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out. So what are you gonna do? Are you going to go back to Vegas? Or stay here?”
“I’m not sure yet.” He shrugs. “I’ve got some thinking to do.”
As Nate arrives to where the two of us are standing and takes my hand, I can’t help but think, Me too.
Dinner ends up going exactly as I suspected it would, but not as I hoped. While Nate and I talk to other people, we barely speak to each other. Every time we do say something to one another, I feel like it’s forced. I feel like I’m pretending. I don’t know what’s happening and I don’t know how to explain it. I just think some relationships can handle problems and some can’t. I don’t think this is going to work out. I need to tell him.
After arriving back at the hotel with Nate, I suggest we go for a drink at a bar in the hotel; he says yes. While racking my brain trying to think of what to say, fate steps in and makes things a whole lot easier. While walking through the lobby, we happen to bump into Ally Hathaway as she checks in.
“Delilah, hi,” she says, bouncing over to me with her fluffy brown hair, hair that appears to go flat when she sees Nate standing next to me.
“Hi,” I say. After giving her a brief hug, I glance over at Nate and see that his face is beet red. The three of us stand in awkward silence for a few moments. “Ally, do you know Nate?” I ask.
“Yeah,” she says coldly. “Long time no see.”
“Yeah,” Nate mumbles uneasily.
When I look at Nate standing with the two of us fidgeting uncomfortably, I see the same guilty look I saw after I walked away from Colin that evening. He doesn’t have a poker face, to say the least. Suddenly I turn to Ally. “Ally, would you like to have a drink with us?” I do this simply to fuck with him.
After looking at Nate and then at me, Ally smiles. I think she realizes my intentions. “I’d love to,” she says graciously. “Just let me run to my room quickly, and I’ll meet back down here in a jiffy.” As Ally walks away, Nate turns to me.
“Why’d you do that?” he asks.
“I should be asking you that question.”
Looking away, Nate lets out a nervous laugh. “Delilah, are you really mad at me for something that happened eleven years ago?” he asks.
“No, I’m mad at you for lying to me about it six days ago.”
“Well,” he says rudely, “I’m not gonna stay here and have drinks with you two. I mean, if that’s what you think, then you’re crazy.”
“I’m not crazy,” I say, “and I’m not average either. I don’t know why I was so hung up on thinking I needed to be.”
Nate gives me a confused look. “What are you talking about?”
“Nothing,” I say, shaking my head.
“This isn’t working, is it?’ he says. I shake my head. “No, it’s not. Nate, I think you should go.”
He nods. “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.”
Nate doesn’t kiss me good-bye, he simply turns around and leaves. And I let him. I don’t press for the truth about the phone call or about what happened the night with Colin, because I already know. When he walks out the revolving door and disappears from my sight, I let out a sad sigh, then a glad one, and then another sad one. I’m sad things didn’t work out with Nate, glad I wasted only a month on him, and sad I screwed things up with Colin in the process. I care about Colin; I can’t deny it. I care about him more than I’ve cared about any man maybe ever. I can’t believe it, but I think I might love him.
Oh, God.
When Ally walks back into the lobby a few moments later, she looks around for Nate. “Where did he go?” she asks.
“Home,” I say.
“Thank God.” She sighs. “He’s such a lying dick.”
one hell of a ride
saturday, june 18
The next morning, after waking up, I put a smile on my face and, with Eva, head up to Daisy’s suite on the twenty-ninth floor of the Towers, the fancier part of the hotel, where the Starlight Roof is located, to get ready for the big day. When I get to her room, I know I’m in for a treat when I see double doors. After I ring the doorbell (neat, huh?) and wait, Daisy answers, wearing a silk robe and a smile that stretches from ear to ear.
“Vwelcome, madam,” she says in a bad Russian accent. “Vwelcome to my humble abode!” As she playfully grabs my arm and whisks me into a lavish marble foyer, I’m speechless.
“Your room has a foyer?” I ask, looking up at a sparkling crystal chandelier.
“Oui, oui!” Daisy squeaks giddily, moving on to French. After closing the door behind me, she leads me into the living room and gives me a mini tour. Like my room, Daisy’s suite also has a view of Park Avenue, but that’s where the similarities end. Aside from being significantly larger, her suite is decorated in light blue and green hues, giving it a very serene feel. Soft cream-colored linen covers cushioned wall panels, and layers upon layers of gold silk drapes cascade down windows. A fireplace dominates one end of the room, while a plush upholstered sofa, settee, and winged chair embellish the other. Gold candelabras and gilded mirrors hang from the walls, and fresh flowers arrangements adorn every table. Off the living room sits a small kitchenette, currently overflowing with gift baskets.
After we pass through a set of sliding wooden doors, Daisy shows me the bedroom, which, with its hand-woven needlepoint floral carpets and lavish king-sized bed, is just as lush as the rest of the place. Adjacent to this is an enormous dressing area and, of course, a whirlpool bath.
After heading back to the living room, we plop down on the sofa. I look at her, sitting there, surrounded by all this opulence. She looks blissful, but anyone would, right? Out of nowhere, she suddenly reaches over and grabs my arm. “You ended it, didn’t you?” she asks.
I let out a sigh and nod. “Yeah.”
“But that’s not why you’re sad today, is it?” she asks. I give her a confused look. “I’m going to take a wild guess at something; tell me if I’m right. You thought you loved Nate, realized you didn’t, realized you loved Colin in the process, but lost him.”
I look at Daisy; I’m amazed. “Wow, you’re good.”
Daisy smiles. “I know. I’m not as dense as I seem to be sometimes.” She scoots over and puts her arm around me. “Remember what I said. If it’s meant to be, it’ll work itself out.”
I nod. “I know.”
“Does Mom know yet?”
“No,” I say rolling my eyes. “She’s gonna think I’m a lesbian once again.”
“Well, look on the bright side,” Daisy says, as she pets Eva on the head. “If she does then at least you’ll match your dog.” I laugh, and then Daisy and I hug.
A few moments later, when my mom comes up to Daisy’s room, she freezes when she sees both our faces, knowing something’s up. “The last time you two looked liked like this,” she says, “was when you melted your Barbie doll onto my antique coffee table.”
I don’t remember this; I look to Daisy.
“We were trying to give her a tan in the Easy-Bake Oven,” she says, “remember?”
“Oh, right,” I say, as it comes back to me. (Kids, don’t try this at home.)
As my mom takes a seat between us on the sofa, I tell her about Nate. I don’t tell her about Colin though—I don’t want her to give me grief for ruining things. When I finish, she sits in silence for a bit. After looking up and seeing my face, she then reaches over and hugs me hard. Remembering what she said in her message about a month ago, I give in and don’t fight it. When I do, I realize that, by God, she’s right. It is easier to breathe.
“Delilah, you and Daisy are my angels,” she says, as she feels my body soften. “I know I give you a hard time about being single and I don’t mean to, but I just want you to be happy.”
“I want to be happy too, Mom. But I’m not gonna be someone just to be with someone. I can’t force it.”
“I know,” she says, sighing loudly. “You’re right.”
“Yes, I am. I have to figure things out for myself on my own time schedule. Just because I don’t live life like the rest of your friends’ kids, doesn’t mean something’s wrong with me.”
“I know,” she says.
“Good, but I need you to know always, Mom, not just now because you’re in a good mood because Daisy’s getting married. If I’m still single in a year, you need to be fine with it then too. And know that it doesn’t mean I’m a lesbian.”
“I know you’re not a lesbian, honey,” my mom says, “and I’m sorry.”
After Daisy leans in and we all group-hug, I begin to feel better. Do I expect my mom’s nagging to stop forever? No, but it’s nice to know that at least for today it will.
After letting go, Daisy looks at Mom and winks at me, signaling she’s up to something. “Delilah,” she then says, “I know you’re not a lesbian, but didn’t you experiment once in college?”
I choke. Even though I know Daisy is saying just to mess with my mom, she doesn’t know how close to the truth it actually is.
“Uh…yeah, once,” I say going along with her. “But it was above the belt, so I don’t really count it.”
After watching the blood drain from Mom’s face, Daisy and I burst into laughter. We both then look at Mom and in unison, say, “Kidding!”
“Oh, thank heavens!” she exclaims as the color in her face comes back. She then leans into me. “If you are a lesbian though, Delilah, please know that I’ll be fine with it.” I shake my head and look back at Daisy.
“C’mon,” she says to the two of us, “let’s get ready…I’m getting married!”
Daisy ends up being the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen, not that I doubted she’d be anything but. She doesn’t pull her hair back or put it up in a bun, as so many brides do, but leaves it wild and free, which makes her look more gorgeous than ever. Throughout her entire engagement, she’s had a glow to her that I’ve never seen. Love agrees with her. Standing once again on a small platform in my scarlet dress, I watch my grandpa walk her down the aisle with tears in his eyes. I then think back to the last time I saw him cry, which was when Daisy and I were kids, when he came to school to kidnap us.
The only thing that prevents me from bawling and brings a smile to my lips is the sight of my mother weeping in her chair, wearing the largest rhinestone-encrusted crucifix brooch I’ve ever seen. She makes me laugh, my mom. Before the ceremony, Daisy realized that she spent all morning hiding rosaries everywhere and yelled at her. She found one in her bouquet, another sewn into the bottom hem of her dress, and more worked into the floral centerpieces on the tables. God knows where else my mother hid them. (Actually, he probably does.) Anyway, when someone begins to sing the “Ave Maria” at the end of the ceremony, she breaks into a full sob and sings along, at which point both Daisy and I burst into laughter. Equally pathetic, Edward’s mother also loses it when Edward does the whole “stepping-on-the-glass-thing,” as Daisy puts it. (Thank God—at least they’re both wacky.) When the judge who’s presiding over the ceremony finally announces Mr. and Mrs. Edward Barnett for the first time, an equal mix of “Amens” and “Mazel tovs” ring through the air, and then everyone begins to party.
The reception goes off without a hitch. The drinks flow freely, the food goes down smoothly, and the Starlight Roof couldn’t look more festive with the flowers blooming, candles flickering and ceiling twinkling. Despite all this joy, however, I still find myself a bit melancholy. After Daisy and Edward cut the cake, I head over to a window and look out at the city. It’s finally stopped raining.
When I think of last time I wore this red dress, with Colin in the fitting room at Saks, I get sad. Remembering the way his strong hands felt as he zipped and laced me up, remembering the way he gave me goose bumps, brings a tear to my eye. It also gets me thinking about my twenty guys again. Even though I’ve just about come to terms with it and realize that it’s no reason to settle down with someone you don’t love, I still believe that most of them were mistakes.
And then I hear a voice.
“I’ve never seen anything so lovely.”
When I turn around, I see my grandpa. Even though he’s too tan and his hair is too dark, he’s still handsome, nonetheless. As he walks up to me, he looks out the window as well.
“I know, it’s a beautiful view, isn’t it?”
“I was talking about you,” he says, putting his arm around me. “But it is too, yes.”
“Thanks,” I say, hugging him.
“You’re gonna be okay,” he says, squeezing me tight. “You know that?”
“Yes, I do. I just have a lot of regrets, that’s all. I’ve made a lot of mistakes.”
“Ah…there’s no such thing! There are the choices that we make and the consequences, that’s all.”
“I know, but I keep thinking that maybe if I did things differently, then the consequences wouldn’t have been the same.”
“Of course they wouldn’t be, but then neither would you. Everything you do in life, whether it’s good or bad, makes you who you are. Don’t maybe your decisions to death because you can’t change them.”
“That’s easier said than done.”
“You’re right,” he says, patting my shoulder. “But if you’re going to think about your past, rather than dwell on the reasons you shouldn’t have done something, remember the reasons you did.”
I look up. “What do you mean?”
“I mean everything we do in life has some element of right and wrong to it.”
“Like?”
My grandpa thinks. “Give me an example of something crazy that you’ve done in your life—something that looking back now doesn’t seem so smart.”
I laugh—Where do I even begin?
“And don’t hold back,” he adds, “just because I’m your grandpa. Give me a good example.”
“Okay,” I say, after thinking about it. “One time I rode on the back of a motorcycle with a strange man through the streets of Barcelona at two o’clock in the morning.”
My grandpa breathes in and out heavily for a few seconds. Once he seems calm, he turns to me. “Don’t ever do that again!”
“You said don’t hold back!” (And even so, I still did—I left out the drinking part.)
“I know, I know, you’re right,” he says, regaining his composure. “And forgetting that you’re my granddaughter for a moment, it’s a good example. With that in mind, forget all the reasons why you shouldn’t have done it.”
“Okay, forgotten.”
“I bet it was one hell of a ride…”
Instantly, I smile. “Oh, it was, Grandpa,” I say, turning to him. “It was exhilarating!”
“Exactly!” he says, pointing at me for emphasis. “If you’re going to remember anything from your past, then do so fondly because you can’t change a thing about it.”
Wow.
I mean, wow.
This simple idea is the most freeing thing I’ve ever heard in my life. It’s better than any self-help book I’ve read or any audio program I’ve listened to.
“Delilah, life is filled with pain and beauty. It’s a journey, a learning experience. You’ve always been a girl who has had to learn by doing, not by watching and listening—don’t change that. Don’t change now—you’re too young.”
“I’m almost thirty, Grandpa,” I point out. My birthday is in two weeks.
“No, you’re only thirty. Well, almost. Take it from your seventy-five-year-old grandpa, you’ve got a lot of living to do.”
As I hug my grandpa, the band begins to play Frank Sinatra: “That’s Why the Lady Is a Tramp.” I smile. Of all the songs…
“Grandpa, would you like to dance with me?” I ask.
“I’d love to, Little Darlin’,” he says. “And I love to see that smile back.”
As my grandpa and I make our way out to the dance floor, he turns to me with a devilish look in his eye. “You wanna really smile?” he asks.
“Absolutely!” I say.
“Okay,” he says quietly, “watch this.”
As my grandpa twirls me around, I see Patsy walking in our direction but don’t think anything of it until my grandpa dips me, and at the same time sticks out his foot and—
Oh my God!
Patsy goes flying through the air. As she does, I close my eyes to stop from laughing. When I hear her go down with a thud, I open my eyes, turn to my grandpa and whisper. “I can’t believe you did that!” Like a little boy, he giggles.
“I can,” he says quietly, “that woman’s had it coming for a long time!” Quickly changing his tune, he turns around and raises his voice. “Patsy! I’m so sorry!” After making a big fuss, a big scene, he leans down to help her up. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Patsy says, brushing crumbs off her dress. “I’m fine. I didn’t mean to get in your way. Thanks for helping me up.”
“It was my pleasure, Patsy.”
“Mine too!” I add.
As the band at the Starlight Roof begins playing “Fly Me to the Moon,” I twirl around the dance floor like a ballerina, while my grandpa—who looks like Warren Beatty, dances like Fred Astaire and sings in my ear like Frank Sinatra—makes me feel like the luckiest girl in the world.
Toward the end of the evening I decide to head back to my room so I begin looking around for Daisy, to say good night. After searching for a while, I still can’t find her. After I ask around, a few people tell me they saw her go into the bathroom, so I head that way.
“Daisy?” I call out when I open the door. I hear sounds of someone getting sick. “Are you in here?”
“Yeah,” says a weak voice, “I’m down at the end.”
As I head to the last, large handicap bathroom, I hear more sounds of someone getting sick come from inside. It’s Daisy. “Are you okay?” I ask, knocking on the door. “Let me in.”
After I hear the click of the door unlocking, I pull it open and walk inside. Leaning against the wall is my sister, still beautifully dressed in her wedding dress but with watery eyes. “What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Nothing, I’m fine. It’s just nerves.”
“Daisy, you’re wedding’s over. How can it be nerves?”
She looks down, guilty.
Wait…“Daisy, are you—?”
“Pregnant, yes.”
“Daisy!” Gasping, I swat her arm. Suddenly realizing I’ve just hit an expectant mother, I then begin to pet her. “Oh, sorry!” I exclaim. “So sorry!”
She laughs. “It’s okay—stop.”
“You’re pregnant?” I cover my face in shock. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!”
“I know. I just wanted to make sure it was definite before I told anyone, and it is.”
“Does Mom know?”
She shakes her head. “No.”
Suddenly I remember. “Wait—you told me that you and Edward were waiting.”
“Yeah,” Daisy says, cracking up. “And I can’t believe you bought it!”
“You mean you weren’t?” I ask slowly.
“Obviously not!”
“I can’t believe you.” Looking my sister square in the eye, I begin to shake my head. “Okay, this might sound like a silly question, but it’s very important that you answer truthfully, so listen carefully.” As Daisy stands up straighter, I continue. “Do you remember when you told me how many men you slept with?”
“Yeah, seven,” Daisy says. “Why?”
“Seven?” I screech. “You didn’t tell me seven!”
“I didn’t?” Daisy asks, looking guilty. “Are you sure?”
“Ah…yeah,” I nod. “I’m positive. You told me four.”
“Four?” Daisy erupts in guilty laughter again. “Well, again…I can’t believe you bought it!”
“Daisy!” As my sister continues to laugh, I ask her for the truth, point-blank. “I need to know. How many men have you slept with?”
She doesn’t answer.
“Is it higher than seven?” I ask.
She nods.
“Higher than 10.5?”
She nods again.
“Daisy,” I say slowly, in the lowest voice I’ve ever used in my life, “I can’t believe you lied to me.”
“Oh come on…no one tells the truth about that.”
As I look at my sister, I erupt in laughter as well, and then wrap my arms around her. “I can’t believe you’re pregnant!” I exclaim. “I’m so excited! I know sometimes it might seem like I don’t like little kids, but I do, I swear. Clean ones, that is.”
“Will you walk me to my room?” Daisy asks. “I have to lie down. Edward already knows. He’s going to stay with the guests a little while longer.”
“Yes,” I say, nodding. As I help my sister out of the bathroom and to the elevator, I decide to take advantage of her while she’s weak and continue to dig. “So, is it higher than fifteen?” I ask.
She smiles.
“Sixteen?”
She smiles again.
“Come on, just tell me,” I plead. “I won’t tell a soul.”
As the elevator doors close, Daisy leans over. When she whispers her number into my ear, all I have to say is…
Oh my God! Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!
My sister is such a liar.
so not like a virgin
After walking Daisy to her room, instead of going back to mine, I decide to take a walk. The air smells fresh, clean—it’s been washed for days. As I stroll through the streets of New York and take in the smells, the noise, and the hustle and bustle of the city, I realize that I don’t have undiagnosed ADD, I’m just more comfortable in chaos. Wearing my scarlet dress and my high heels, I walk down the street a proud woman. A woman flawed, but still, a woman who takes chances, a woman who has loved and been loved. To go out on a limb (or twenty—or forty or sixty, for that matter) is what life is about. It’s about trying until you get it right. I’m okay with where I’m at right now. I still don’t have a job, a loft, a husband, or kids—but I have me. And I have Eva too. My grandpa is right. I can maybe myself to death or make peace with the past, with any mistakes I might have made, remember the good times and move forward. That’s what I’m going to do. Realizing this, I head somewhere important.
Once I arrive, after nervously waiting, I hear a voice.
“In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit,” Daniel says.
“Amen,” I reply. I feel bad about waking him. I told a security guard that I had an emergency and needed to see him.
“Delilah,” Daniel says in a low tone as he recognizes my voice. “This better be an emergency…”
“It was. It is. Well, kind of…”
“Kind of? So you lied to get me out of bed?”
“Well, maybe, but it was just a little white one and everyone knows those don’t count.”
“White lies count,” Daniel says quickly.
“Well, then, I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”
“You’re forgiven,” he says, sighing loudly. “Now that I’m up, what do you need?”
“Well, remember when I said I was sorry for sleeping with some of the twenty men, that some of them were mistakes, but not all of them? Well, I’ve changed my mind.”
“Wonderful,” Daniel says in a cheerful tone. “I’m glad to hear that you’ve finally come around.”
“Well, that’s the thing…I didn’t exactly come around to your side.”
“What do you mean?” The tone of his voice is serious.
“Well…I’m not sorry for any of them.”
“None of them?” he asks, sounding bewildered.
“No, none of them. My choices might not be right for everybody, and the church might disagree with them, but they were right for me. They made me who I am. To be sorry is to regret them, and to regret them means they were wrong and evil, and they weren’t.”
Daniel sighs loudly. “I’m not sure I want to hear anymore.”
“Well you have to. I might’ve stopped coming to church when I was eighteen, but before that I spent every Sunday of my life here and have listened to”—fifty-two weeks times eighteen years, carry the one—“nine hundred thirty-six homilies, so please listen to one of mine.” I’m getting better at math.
Daniel laughs. “You like to make up your own rules, don’t you?”
“You have to in life, at least sometimes, because if you try to live by what other people deem right and wrong or above and below average—you’ll drive yourself crazy.”
“Okay, fine,” he says, giving in. “You have my ear, go ahead.”
“A very wise man once told me that when you think about the past, why not remember the reasons you did things as opposed to dwelling on why you shouldn’t have. I mean, as long as you’ve learned whatever lesson there is to learn and have come out a bigger person, then it’s silly to have regret, which is why I’m not sorry.”
“You’re not sorry for any of them?” he asks slowly.
“No, none of them.”
“Not even the last one? What was his name…Roger? I mean, you were really upset about him.”
“I’m not even sorry for Roger. He was a great dancer, and he made me feel wanted on a day when nothing but rejection was thrown in my face.”
“Okay,” Daniel says slowly, kind of getting where I’m going. “Give me another example. One of the twenty.”
“Okay,” I say, thinking of a good one. “I once dated a guy named Wade who made me realize it’s okay not to be a grownup all the time, and I really liked that about him.”
Daniel laughs a little and then asks shyly, “How about me?”
I smile. “You know, you taught me one of the most important lessons there is. On a night when I was a heartbroken, you made me realize there were more fish in the sea. That’s something everyone needs to learn early in life.”
“I’m blushing,” Daniel says, after a bit of silence.
“You should be.”
After thinking about my new point of view, Daniel sighs. “Well, well, well. I know you’re not looking for forgiveness, but you have my blessing, Delilah. I’m happy you’ve come to peace with what you’ve done.”
“Thanks,” I say, smiling. “Me too.”
“Will I see you at mass tomorrow?” he asks.
“Probably not,” I say, “but maybe we could go for coffee sometime.”
“Are you asking me on a date?” Daniel jokes.
“Well, you’ve seen Thorn Birds, right?”
Daniel doesn’t say anything.
“I’m kidding!”
“Oh thank goodness!” he sighs.