Chapter 22 #2
We’re both quiet for a minute while I think about what she said.
Then I remember she started out by talking about her own experience as a bride.
“What kind of red flags did Kevin have?” I ask, realizing I’ve never once thought about what life was like for my mom before I came along.
I can picture her now, young and smooth-skinned and trusting a man who would go on to shatter her world.
My heart aches for that young person with such heartbreak ahead of her.
“Well, he had no interest in meeting my friends or getting to know my family. He only wanted to go on dates where he could do things he liked doing—going to the bar so I could watch him play pool, going fishing, or seeing an action movie. If it had Mel Gibson in it, all the better.”
“Eww.”
“Right? Anyway, if I suggested we go see a romance or go dancing or have dinner out with my friends, it was a hard no.”
“Those are definitely big red flags.”
“Yes, they are. But do you want to know what the biggest one was?”
Even though I’m not sure I do, I say, “Yes.”
“He was engaged when we met, but that didn’t stop him from pursuing me. Hard.”
“Wow. I had no idea.” The thought makes me feel nauseated.
She shakes her head and looks down at the plush carpet. “It’s not exactly something I’m proud to admit. She was a nice woman and he broke her heart.”
“He did her a favor—let her get away before she was in too deep,” I say.
Tilting her head, my mom says, “True, she was better off than me in the end, but for a long time, she was heartbroken. Eventually, she met an insurance salesman. They’re still together.
Three kids, four grandkids, they love to travel.
But if Kevin had turned out to be a good man, she would have enjoyed all those things with him. ”
“I don’t want to sound like I’m judging you, because I promise I’m not,” I say, curling my legs up under me. “But if he did it to her, what made you think he would be different with you?”
“Because I was one of those women who convinced myself that what we had was different. It was special. True love.” She rolls her eyes. “So stupid. I was only interesting until he knew he had me. Then I got boring real quick.”
My mind spins as I come to the conclusion that what I believed about my parents was actually just a story I had made up about their relationship as a young girl, based on all the movies and TV shows I’d seen about love.
I assumed he had once been a good man who fell out of love with his wife, when the truth is, he never loved her to begin with.
I think about Mac and how he always puts Paige first. I think about Ben, and how loyal he is to his brother, and how loving and protective he is of his family, especially Henry.
I think about how much he worries about getting it all right.
He’s not a man who would get bored or give up on someone he loved.
I know it in my bones. So maybe, I’ve had it wrong all these years.
Not that I can say it out loud to my mother though, because she’ll say she thought exactly the same thing about my father in the beginning.
Then the horrible thought pops into my head that he’s coming to the wedding. “Speaking of Kevin…”
“Oh, don’t tell me. He’s coming to the wedding.”
“Even better.”
“The whole happy family is coming?”
“Sounds like it. He and Tube Top, anyway,” I answer, rolling my eyes. “Honestly, I’d put money on him backing out at the last second. But if he doesn’t, I’ll make sure they put you guys at opposite ends of the resort.”
She gives me a little shrug and a smile. “Don’t worry about us. We’re adults. Well, I am, anyway. I’ll make sure I don’t do anything that will cause problems.”
I raise one eyebrow at her.
“No, seriously. I’d never do that to you. Besides, we live in the same city. If I wanted to yell at him, I’d drive over to his house and do it.”
“Fair point.”
Mom reaches out and places her hand on mine. “Promise me you won’t be too disappointed if he doesn’t show up, okay?”
I scoff like that’s the most ridiculous thing in the world. Only it’s not, somehow. “Don’t even worry about it. I fully expect him to back out.”
“Yes, he probably will. His ability to disappoint is limitless.” She picks up the bottle of champagne and refills both our flutes.
We each have a sip, then, before I can stop myself, I ask a question I’ve never been brave enough to ask. But somehow, there’s a tiny part of me that’s whispering ‘test the waters.’ “Do you ever think of trying to find someone? A good guy who’s honest and capable of love?”
Shaking her head, she says, “Is that a thing? A good man?”
“I think it’s possible. Mac seems pretty great.”
“It’s early days,” my mom answers. “Give it another decade before you sing his praises.”
For reasons unknown, I say, “Honestly, Dominic and his brother, Ben, both seem like stand-up guys too. They’re so committed to raising Ben’s son, it’s sort of beautiful.
I mean, I get that they’re only doing what any mom would do—well, a good mom, anyway.
But Dominic is just his uncle and he decided to postpone his career so he could be there for him.
And they’re both so involved in a way that Kevin never was, you know?
Ben doesn’t want to miss a second of his son’s life, and I know that was never the case with me. ”
“No, it wasn’t. He was a shit father, and you deserved so much better, if there’s such a thing.” Her eyebrows knit together with worry. “But I think we did okay, didn’t we? After he left?”
Nodding, I reach over and give her a hug. “We did great, Mom.”
She offers me a small smile, then says, “Now, are you ready to try on more dresses?”
I let out a groan and lean my head against the couch. “Do I have to?”
“Yes, you do, young lady. Now, hop to it,” she says with a little chuckle.
When I don’t move, she says, “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you didn’t want to go through with this.”
“What? Of course I want to. I just haven’t found the right dress yet.”
“Honestly, I can think of at least four that I thought you were perfect in, but it’s not about what I like, it’s about what makes you feel gorgeous.”
I stare at the rack of dresses I still haven’t tried on. “It doesn’t matter how I feel because that’s not what this is about. It’s about my image and having the most eye-catching dress in a thumbnail.”
“It’s all about the clicks, isn’t it?” my mom says.
“Yes, it is.”
“And deep down, you don’t want it to be about the clicks, do you?”
My head snaps back. “Of course I want it to be about the clicks. That’s what this entire thing is about.”
“Come on, I’m your mother, not some viewer. I’ve known you since before you were born. I can tell when you don’t want to do something.”
I want to tell her all about Ben, and how I’m madly in love with him, which is ridiculously inconvenient because if I cancel the wedding and marry the man I love, I’ll ruin my career and lose everything I’ve built and screw over Dominic, who will likely never forgive his brother for stealing his dream from him.
Instead, I say, “My heart isn’t in this because the entire thing is a lie and I feel guilty about what I’m doing. ”
She purses her lips and stares at me for a second before answering. “I don’t think that’s it. Do you want to know what I think is happening?”
No, I do not. “Sure.”
She takes my hand and gives it a squeeze.
“You’re uncomfortable because society hasn’t made it okay to be a strong, independent woman—one who doesn’t need a man to get what you want or need.
You’re building your own empire, and you’ve come to a crossroads where your career path is butting heads with the patriarchy.
And the pressure that the patriarchy puts on women to play nice and be virtuous and succumb to the will of a man is ingrained in our society.
So you’re feeling that innate disapproval, which is what every truly spectacular woman feels when she rises above it all.
But trust me, if you let yourself continue on climbing to the top, you’ll have the most incredible view to look down on.
And I am rooting for you to make it. I really am. ”
I slouch, feeling like the liar I am. Shaking my head, I say, “I don’t think that’s it, Mom. I’m not some feminist heroine. I’m a fraud. I’m selling a false dream to my followers, and they don’t deserve that. To be tricked like this. They trust me and I’m abusing their trust. Horribly.”
“I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but I think you’re taking your position in their lives a little too seriously.”
“Uh, thanks?” I say sarcastically.
“Hear me out. Your followers watch your videos to see the latest and greatest in trends so they can keep up and look their best. They’re not counting on you for the ultimate ‘how to’ guide for living.
You’re not their pastor or something,” she says, having a sip of her drink.
“You’re a brand influencer. You offer a nice little escape for women—some of whom will never have what you have and want to imagine it, if only for a minute.
And there’s nothing wrong with that. You’re helping people. ”
“Am I?”
“Sure you are. How many women have written to tell you they learned how to dress for success from you, and now their lives are so much better?”
“A few,” I answer with a little shrug.
“Way more than a few. Hundreds.”
“Yeah, I get that, but this is different. This time, I’m selling them something that’s a total fake.”
“How many bags and dresses and pairs of shoes have you featured that you never wore again?”
“Lots.”
“Exactly, but you do it anyway because that’s your job. You’re in marketing and sales. And don’t you think they know that?”
Chewing on my bottom lip for a second, I consider her words. “I suppose they do.”
“Of course they do. Give your audience some credit. They want to see all the big shiny things and imagine themselves at the hottest night club or on a luxury vacation,” my mom says. “This time you’re selling them all things they’ll need to inspire their own weddings. It’s really no different.”
I nod, then shake my head. “It feels different this time. It feels wrong, and, I don’t know…
” I trail off, my heart in my throat over what I’m about to admit.
“Maybe somewhere deep down, part of me wants the fairy tale. The real one, you know? True love and butterflies in my stomach and magic when he holds my hand.”
She stares at me for a second. I’m hopeful that she’ll tell me she understands.
But she doesn’t. Instead, she says, “You don’t want that.
You saw firsthand how it worked out for me.
” Patting my knee, she says, “Trust me, sweetheart, you’re better off with what you’re doing.
Standing on your own two feet. Not relying on some man who will disappoint you in the end. ”
My heart feels like it’s been tied to an anchor and is being dragged to the bottom of the Hudson River.
Before I can say anything, she adds, “Look, I get it. Every girl is raised believing the fairy tale. Hell, I even encouraged it by letting you watch all those damn Disney cartoons. Your favorite was The Little Mermaid, which is basically just a story about a girl who’s got a kickass life, a loving family, great friends, and a cool hobby, who gives it all up to be with some two-dimensional prince on land.
She goes from letting her father run her life to letting her husband do it.
All those movies are meant to keep women in line.
I never should have shown you any of them.
” She drains her flute, then says, “I tried my best to undo the damage after I figured it all out, but maybe it was too late by then. Because if there’s a part of you that still wants to believe in fairy tales and that you’re not complete without a man in your life, I definitely failed you.
But it’s all a lie, Vivian. Men disappoint us.
They can’t help it. They’re raised to put themselves first. Think of Giancarlo—you were so sure about him and to him, you were nothing but another notch on his bedpost. He moved right on to that neighbor down the hall and you spent six weeks playing ‘Insensitive’ by Jann Arden on repeat. ”
“I never should’ve told you that.”
“Of course you should’ve. I’m your mom. We shouldn’t have any secrets.”
I stare at her, hoping she can’t see that I have a very big secret right now. I’m falling for someone, and there’s a decent chance he’s going to prove her wrong about men because all signs point to him being a good one. One who won’t disappoint. Only, I can’t have him.
So much for being a die-hard feminist. As soon as I step out in the final wedding gown I’m going to try on, my mom’s eyes fill with tears and she says, “You look just like a princess.”
I don’t call her on it though. Instead, I smile back because I’ve had two glasses of bubbly and I feel like a princess in this one.
It’s a floor-length silk sheath gown with a cowl neck and a delicate floral brocade that starts slightly above my waist and trails half way down the length of the skirt.
It’s got a short train that will look gorgeous against the white sand during the ceremony.
It’s the kind of dress that can make you believe in fairy tales. “This is the one.”
“Yes, it really is.” She blinks back her tears, then laughs at herself. “Why am I getting so emotional? This is silly!”
Eddie cuts in and saves the moment with, “It’s because this is a very emotional moment for any bride and her mother. It only happens once in a lifetime.”
My heart sinks at that thought because deep down, I want this to happen twice. The second time, for keeps.
Wedding Gown Video Comments:
GinaFey25: I can’t believe you didn’t show THE ONE! I am DYING to see it! Just post a bit of it - the shoulder or the back!
Me: I’m sorry, Gina! You’ll have to wait for the big reveal at the wedding, but I think you’re going to love it. It’s a very special dress.
GinaFey25: I know I will. Can’t wait to see you and Dominic on your big day! Also, I can’t believe all the people talking shit about your gorgeous ring. They just don’t get it. You’re setting a new trend.
Me: Thanks! It’s truly something fresh and exciting in the world of jewelry.
Piccachick: Why wouldn’t you pick the lace one? It was gorgeous on you! (Also, I’m not a fan of the ring, tbh. Sorry.)
Me: Honestly, it was a little scratchy. And that’s okay. You’re allowed to have an opinion.
Piccachick: Who cares about scratchy? Totally worth it to look that good.
Me: I hope you’ll love the one I picked as much!