After what seemed like an eternity, I pushed Douglas and his cheating lips away from me and hit him in the chest. Hard.
The singer finished her song and the crowd stopped dancing to applaud. Douglas and I stood there like strangers amidst the other happy wedding guests, the only ones not applauding. We were face to face, but neither of us said a word. The bandleader invited the crowd to sit down to enjoy the main course.
Douglas turned and grabbed Vanessa—who was standing behind us wide-eyed after witnessing the kiss—and made his way to our table with her. I spun around and tried to find Jack, but he was no longer on the dance floor and he wasn’t at our table. As the dance floor cleared, I spotted him across the room at the bar.
I walked over to the bar where Jack was surrounded by what can only be described as a bevy of young women. Single young women. I wondered if they were all clients of Trip’s or friends of Ava’s. They were all clearly in the business, one way or another. I completely stood out, like a man in a lingerie store, since I was the only one there with her original boobs, lips and nose. (Okay, so maybe it’s not my original nose, but the boobs and lips are all me.) I wondered if Jack had told them that he was a producer. I knew for a fact that that used to be Trip’s little party trick when he first got to L.A.
A five foot ten redhead was draped around Jack as if he was the Sultan of Brunei. He didn’t seem to mind at all. I could have sworn I recognized her from an episode of “Law and Order.”
“So, do you ever regret giving up acting?” a tall blonde wistfully asked Jack.
“Would you mind if I took back my date?” I asked with a laugh, nudging my way into the circle. The redhead didn’t move. Neither did Jack. “Jack?”
“I saw you,” he said, and turned back to his drink. The redhead didn’t move a muscle. She stayed wrapped around Jack, staring at me intently.
“Jack,” I continued, undeterred. “Our main courses are on the table.”
“I saw you with Douglas,” he repeated, louder, more aggressive. His bevy of women all began to glare at me. I couldn’t tell if it was because he had told them about me and Douglas or if it was simply because they had all seen him first.
“I heard you the first time,” I whispered, trying to take his arm. The redhead was still drawing her tentacles into him and I began to turn my faux engagement ring around my finger.
“I saw you with him,” he said, turning towards me, looking me dead in the eye. His blue eyes looked darker than I had noticed before. The redhead stepped aside as Jack’s voice climbed louder and louder. He walked out of the circle of women to face me.
“Can we talk about this later?” I whispered to him, motioning to the people around us who could hear.
“I saw you kiss him, Brooke, so why don’t you just cut the crap,” he said. He wasn’t even trying to use the Scottish accent anymore even though there were tons of wedding guests around us. “Cut the crap right now.” I grabbed his arm and led him out of the reception room. His feet stayed heavy and it was hard to get him to move.
He continued to rant once out in the hallway. “I know that’s what you want. That’s what you really wanted this whole time. So, why don’t you just go for it? Why don’t you just take back what you want?”
“That’s not what I want,” I said and I could feel the tears starting to build up.
“Bullshit!” he snarled. I was so shocked that he had yelled at me that I felt my body jerk backwards. “No, you don’t,” he continued. “You spent the better part of the weekend thinking, plotting ways to get back together with Douglas. And now he’s here. So, go and get him. You two deserve each other.”
“I don’t want him,” I pleaded, tears swelling around my eyes. “I want you. I want to be with you.”
“I was a moron to think that you would want me. In fact, you only wanted me when I dressed up and pretended to be Douglas. How sick is that?”
“That’s not true,” I said, hardly able to speak with the tears running down my face.
“I’ve been a fool for you for so long, Brooke. I don’t really know what on earth I was thinking. But that’s over now. And you should be thrilled. You have both of the men in your life here, making utter fools of themselves.”
“No, that’s not what I want at all. It’s you that I want. I want you.”
“Tell it to someone who cares,” he said, storming off.
“Where are you going?” I called after him, tears still falling uncontrollably from my eyes.
“I’m going to eat,” he said, opening the door to the reception and marching through. The sound of the band playing drifted out to me and then the door closed with a slam, leaving only silence where I stood.
I stood there alone in the hallway, barely comprehending what had just happened. How could Jack know what I wanted when I barely knew it myself?
Douglas? I didn’t want Douglas. Not anymore. Not since he’d been revealed for what he really is.
But, married. I do want to be married. And that’s what Douglas is offering. But what kind of marriage can you have with a man you can’t trust?
I can trust Jack. But, how could Jack say such hurtful things to me? I guess that was how much seeing Douglas and I kiss had hurt him. Could I have underestimated the feelings he had for me all along? I had underestimated the feelings I had for him all along, so why not?
The door from the reception began to open out into the hallway where I was still standing and I brushed the tears from my cheek. The music from the reception floated out into the hallway again and I could hear the band playing “Celebration.” Jack was coming back for me. I knew that he couldn’t stay mad at me, just like I could never stay mad at him. He will come back and I will explain everything and tell him how I feel and everything will be all right. The door opened slowly and I began to smile.
“Brooke?”
“I’m right here,” I said.
“Brooke, are you okay? My mother told me that you passed out?” It was Trip. My smile all of the sudden felt forced, and I felt the tears beginning to build up again.
“I’m fine,” I said as he reached out and gave me a hug. The nicer he was to me, the more it made me want to cry. Why is it that when you’re sad, the simple act of someone being nice to you makes you want to cry even more?
“Good, I just wanted to make sure that you were okay,” he said.
“Thanks,” forcing my lips to continue smiling.
“You don’t look okay,” he said. “What is it?”
“Nothing, Trip. It’s nothing. This is a beautiful wedding. Thank you so much for having me,” I said, wiping away a stray tear under the guise of fixing my makeup.
“It’s my pleasure, kiddo. You’re sure you’re all right?”
“Sure,” I said.
“Good,” he said. “Because I have got to talk to that guy who just went into the can about a deal.” He kissed my cheek and ran off to the men’s room.
I walked back in to the reception and found our table. Douglas, Vanessa and Jack were all in a row, with an empty seat in the middle. I took a deep breath and sat down between Jack and Douglas. Jack wouldn’t even look me in the eye. Douglas couldn’t keep his eyes off me.
“So,” the wedding guest next to Jack asked us, “how long have you two been engaged?”
“Not very long,” I said. I wondered how quickly I could eat my chicken and get Jack alone so that I could talk to him.
“Oh really?” Douglas asked.
“Yeah,” Jack said, “it’s like we’re barely even engaged at all.” Douglas began to snicker.
“I’m Jenna,” the wedding guest said, putting her hand out for us to shake. “I grew up with Ava. How do you know the happy couple?”
“She used to sleep with the groom,” Jack said, turning to me. At least he looked me in the eye, though.
“Trip and I dated in law school,” I quickly covered, forcing a laugh. “I sort of had to drag him here,” I said, motioning to Jack, hoping we looked like a cute bickering couple and not a couple about to kill one another.
“My husband can be the same way,” Jenna told me and smiled. “So, when’s the big day?”
“We haven’t decided yet,” I said.
“You haven’t?” Douglas asked. “See, and I thought that you had the whole thing figured out, Brooke. Or, at least completely made up in your own mind.” I laughed and Jenna nervously laughed along.
“But we do know we want something small, don’t we, darling?” Jack said, putting his arm around me and squeezing me a little too tight. “After all, after this weekend, Brooke plans to have a few less friends. Right, honey?” I laughed really loud as if to say, ‘Isn’t my faux fiancé funny?’ I hoped that she would just laugh to be polite and not try to figure out why Jack was being so goddamned nasty to me. She did not.
“It’s really about the relationship, though,” Vanessa offered, sweeping in to save me from across the table. “If the love is there, it will just fill the room and it won’t matter if it’s a big wedding or a small wedding or a formal one or a casual one. It’s just all about the couple, I think.”
“Well said,” I told Vanessa, reaching over to her and putting my hand on top of hers. Jenna nodded her head in unison.
“It’s all about the trust, I think,” Jack said. “If there’s no trust, there’s no relationship. No foundation to build anything meaningful on.”
“You’re so right,” Jenna said, nodding. I sent a panicked look to Vanessa.
“Well, I think that it’s about passion,” Douglas said, “excitement and fire to keep the love alive.”
“You would say that,” Jack said. I saw Jenna looking at Jack with a confused expression. Jack and Douglas had resorted to their natural accents and looked as if they were about to jump across the table and tackle each other.
“It’s about love,” I said, trying to interject before things got ugly. “It’s starting with friendship and letting it become something more. Even if that takes a little longer than it really should. It’s about finally realizing that someone is the right person for you and looking to the future, no matter how confusing the past may have been. It’s about forgiving mistakes and moving forward. As a team. If two people are in love, anything is possible and everything else will fall into place.” I looked to Jack and tried to read in his eyes whether or not I had gotten through to him.
“And sometimes it’s just about realizing you were wrong in the first place and cutting your losses,” Jack said. Jenna looked down at her chicken.
Before I could utter another word, we were interrupted by the bandleader who announced that it was time for speeches as Trip’s mother was taking the mike. Jack went back to avoiding my gaze and Douglas’s eyes were burning into me.
“Thank you,” Trip’s mother said as she got to the mike, her voice a bit uneven. It seemed that she, herself, had been nursing a little panic attack, too. “And thanks to all of you, for being here to share in this special, special day with us. As most of you know, my son, Trip, is the light of my life. I’m so proud of the man he’s become—all of his accomplishments, all he has done. I love you, baby,” she said, putting her hand to Trip’s face. Trip smiled back at her. “It’s so wonderful to be here tonight to celebrate the marriage of my son, Trip, to Ava. You know, I never even knew that he liked Oriental girls until he brought home Ava.” Trip put his head in his hands as Ava stood and smiled stoically, sort of the way the other three actresses smile into the camera when they announce the winner of the Academy Award.
“Or working girls,” Trip’s mother continued. Trip’s father whispered something in Trip’s mother’s direction. “I mean girls who work. Who have careers. I never knew that Trip liked girls who had careers. But at least we know that she’s not after his money!”
“Get to the toast, ma,” Trip said.
“Ah, yes. The toast. Would everyone please raise their glasses as we make a toast. A toast—to this blending of two cultures. East meeting West! Congratulations, Trip and Ava. Or, kung-hsi. As you would say, Ava, in your country.”
“And you thought that she was just an anti-Semite,” Vanessa said, clapping along with the crowd.
“Wasn’t Ava born in New York City?” Jack asked in Vanessa’s direction, still not speaking to me.
“And raised there,” I answered anyway.
“Well, if you ask me, she sounds just like someone else I know. Intolerant of other cultures,” Douglas said.
“For the love of God, are you still talking about the fucking skirt?” I asked.
“It’s a kilt,” Douglas said through clenched teeth.
“Would you just shut up already?” I said. Jenna turned away and was pretending not to hear.
“Would you please start using an American accent?” Vanessa whispered to Douglas. “Everyone is staring.”
“Just drop it already,” Jack said. “Both of you. Just drop the act. Who are you kidding? You two are a perfect match. You are both superficial, insensitive fools and neither one of you seems to be all that discriminating, in particular, when it comes to where you put your lips,” he said and stormed away from the table.
“There’s my girl,” Douglas said, as he slid over to me and put his arm around my shoulder.
“I am not your girl,” I said, shrugging his arm away. “And I guess that I never really was.”
“Well, for fuck’s sake, Brooke, what’s that supposed to mean?” That menacing look, the look I had spent most of our two years together trying to avoid, was back. Only this time I didn’t care. I didn’t back down.
“I couldn’t possibly have been your girl when you were with someone else. I’d say, by definition, that would make me, at the very most, only one of your girls.”
“Darling, don’t be ridiculous,” he said, “you are my girl. Always have been, always will be.”
“Not anymore,” I said.
“Let’s do this the right way,” Douglas said, not missing a beat, getting up from the table and dropping down onto his knee, “Brooke Miller, in front of God and all of these people, will you marry me?” He put his hand in his pocket to take out a jewelry box.
“Would you get up off the floor?” I said, grabbing at his tuxedo jacket to bring him back to the table. I was slightly embarrassed by his making a scene, but since most of the wedding guests had since made their way back out on the dance floor, no one even batted an eyelash at Douglas’s grand display. He got back onto his seat with a laugh, never once letting his eyes leave my face.
“So?” he asked, pushing the tiny little box over to my side of the table and picking up a glass of champagne. It was a teeny little square box—it was difficult to believe that something as big and important as an engagement ring could fit inside its diminutive walls. For a moment I wondered whether or not this was the ring he had given to Beryl, but, realizing that it didn’t really matter, opened the box and looked inside. It was a princess cut diamond on an elegant platinum band. At first glance, it looked enormous and grand, all sparkles and fire, but when I looked a bit closer, I noticed that its cut made the diamond look large because it was all surface, with very little left underneath.
“I don’t know what to say,” I said, placing the ring back into its box.
“I asked you to marry me. Isn’t that what you want?” he asked. I stared out at the dance floor. “Brooke, I’m speaking to you.”
“No,” I said, with my head still turned away.
“No, you won’t marry me, or no, that’s not what you want?”
“Both. Neither,” I said, turning to face him.
“How can that be? Are you willing to throw this all away? Everything we had together?” I wondered why it was okay when he was the one throwing it all away—that when it was him, it was something that I just had to accept, but when it was me who was throwing it all away, that we had to discuss it. “Remember that time we went out for a casual Sunday night dinner on the Lower East Side and we ended up dancing on the tables at that place until 4am? What was the name of that place?” he asked, running his index finger along the underside of my arm.
“Remember that time I had to have one of my wisdom teeth removed in an emergency surgery and you wouldn’t cancel your dinner plans that night to take care of me?” I asked back. He took a sip of his champagne.
“I’d rather remember that time you were burned out at work and I surprised you with a week away in the Caymans,” he said, twirling a lock of my hair with his finger. “Remember our little bungalow on the beach?”
“Remember that time Vanessa’s grandfather died and you wouldn’t come with me to the wake because you told me that you didn’t like death?” I asked. He put his glass down onto the table.
“Why are you doing this?” he asked quietly. He looked down.
“That’s not the question you should be asking me. The question is, why did it take me so long to do this?”
“Darling,” he said.
“Don’t ‘darling’ me. That one isn’t going to work on me anymore. You proposed to someone else, Douglas.”
“But, I’ve told you. That’s over now,” he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“Yes, Douglas, and so are we,” I said with equal ease.