Subj: Wedding Schedule
Date: 9/24/1999 4:55:01 PM
From: makeupchick1200
To: VioletCastingCarolina
____________________
Dear Violet,
First off, my deepest apologies for missing
your bachelorette party. Hardy had a last-
minute work event that I couldn’t get
out of.
But don’t worry! I will be ready bright and
early tomorrow to do your hair and makeup
and my bridesmaid dress is ready to go.
I’m so excited to be included in your
wedding party!
XOXO,
Whitney
FORD
Weddings suck.
Don’t get me wrong. The simple ceremony on the beach in front of the hotel where my friends and I worked through high school and college went off without a hitch—pun intended—the weather pleasantly warm for North Carolina in September.
It’s awesome to see one of my best friends so deliriously happy. Violet’s face lights up every time she looks at her new husband, Nate. Like he hung the moon and invented chocolate.
It’s not like I’m jealous of them, either. I may have spent many a night on a couch or bed watching movies with Violet, but I never liked her romantically. She’s always been like an intimidating older sister, even though we’re the same age.
Nor am I envious of the other love matches forged by friends in the close-knit gang that’s been together since preschool.
Not of Sully, who obviously adores Helen, a badass production manager who rescued his heart.
I’m stoked for Dani, who seems like she’s falling for Luke, the famous actor I thought she hated when she worked as his driver a few years ago.
I’ve accepted that the true love thing ain’t likely to happen for me. I’ve simply got too much going on career-wise to invest in a serious girlfriend, even if I was good at the relationships.
Case in point: I wasted every single one of my chances with Whitney, the fifth member of our friend group. Always asking for too much too soon at the wrong time. Just gener- ally leaping before looking, I drove her away so fast and so far, the girl I always dreamed I’d end up with is now married to a man I can’t imagine anyone being happy with.
Hardy Fucking McRae.
Whitney and Dani are in Violet’s wedding party, but the groomsmen are all Nate’s friends who came in from Califor- nia, so I’ve managed to avoid Whit all night. Haven’t seen her jerk of a husband, either. If he’s here, he’s probably schmoozing with people who have more money and class than I do.
Not that I’m complaining. I’d just as soon punch the guy as talk to him.
The only thing weddings are good for is hooking up with women interested in a one-night stand. Tonight, even that lacks appeal. So, as soon as the cake’s been cut and the bride and groom have left the building, I am packing it in.
I’m just on my way out the door, having said the obligatory thank you’s and goodbyes, when a woman who looks only vaguely familiar grasps my arm. “Are you Ford?”
“That’s me. What can I do for you?”
“There’s a young woman asking for you in the ladies’ lounge.”
She practically pushes me inside the women’s restroom, a fancy one with an outer room full of chaise lounges and mirrors, but I barely notice the décor once I locate Whitney.
I’m at her side before I take another breath. I don’t know anything about medicine, but her pale skin, shallow breath, and hollow-eyed expression make it clear something is very wrong. I turn back to the guest who found me.
“Call nine-one-one, please. Now.”
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