53 Ginger
53
Ginger
She was so pretty…
Her hair was pulled up on top of her head with a few curls falling loose. Her makeup looked natural, her lipstick was dark, her eyes were full of happiness. Her dress was white, the bodice tight—it fit her like a glove. When she reached the altar, Dean extended his hand, and she took it, smiling nervously.
I could hear people in the audience sighing.
Years ago, I thought I’d be standing where Stella was. Across from Dean, looking into his eyes in front of our families, waiting for the moment when we’d exchange our vows and celebrate at the banquet.
It’s funny how life changes. I think I’m on a straight path, and suddenly the ground crumbles, cracks open up, and I can’t keep going. I make decisions, and they move me from one place to another. I guess in the end, it’s just circumstances that pile up. And that was why Stella was there in a wedding dress instead of me, and a part of me felt happy, because there was no sense in trying to imagine things could have gone differently. But another…a darker part of me, harder to grasp, kept crying about all the plans I’d made as a girl, a teenager, that had progressively fallen apart, and I could do nothing about it.
No matter how hard I had tried, even if things had gotten a little better, I still hadn’t been happy. I’d thought everything would be different. I’d finish school, be happy at the family company, feel fulfilled, marry Dean…all that. All that stuff I had just taken as a matter of course.
But instead I was standing there in a pale-yellow dress that made me look like an ugly piece of lemon pie. The wedding ceremony was sweet, simple, nice. I clapped when it was over, and they walked out of the church. Things between Dean and me had gotten better in the past few months, after that uncomfortable conversation in the kitchen at Christmas. The same went for my relationship with my coworkers. They included me in their plans. I went out with them for coffee. I even felt like I fit in once they stopped seeing me as a weirdo who was also the boss’s daughter. The funny thing, though, is that feeling more comfortable didn’t make me any happier with the job.
Maybe that was the real problem.
The one I was too scared to think about.
“Langoustines for the second course. Nice,” Donna said, smiling when we sat down at the table in the banquet hall. She passed me the menu. “And mint mousse.”
“You’d think you haven’t eaten in years.”
“Look, there’s the bride and groom.” She cut me off.
Everyone around were all smiles as the bride and groom made their appearance, walking toward the table in the center. We were sitting nearby, with my parents and some cousins of the Wilsons. We enjoyed the menu while we chatted. Donna was especially animated. My mind, though, was elsewhere.
On Rhys, to be exact.
On him, and on the message I’d read that morning when I woke, where he was giving me encouragement to face the day, because he knew, even if I didn’t feel anything for Dean anymore, the moment meant something for me. In a weird way. Complicated. Like a revelation, realizing I no longer held the reins to my life.
He had made me smile a lot before I put on the yellow lemon-pie dress. Rhys had that gift. It didn’t matter if we drifted apart or there was tension between us because we didn’t agree on something; in the end, the waters always calmed, we reconnected, and we understood each other. All it took was a few emails.
At the moment, we were talking more than ever. About everything. The month before, he had ended whatever it was he had with Alexa and taken a unique opportunity to work the upcoming summer in Ibiza. He’d rented an apartment on the island to be able to settle in before the summer came and was spending his days composing music and writing to me. He seemed so happy that I wondered if he really liked that creative, solitary part better than the performances that came afterward and that were supposedly the point.
“Earth to Ginger,” my mother said.
“Sorry, I was…”
“On the moon, as always,” she said, not aware that she was right, that I was more on the moon than ever. “We were just saying Stella’s dress is simply precious.”
“It really is.” I ate half my sorbet in one bite.
“It would look terrific on you.”
“On me?”
“Yeah, when you get married. Which I hope will be soon. You’re not a spring chicken anymore. I think the way it’s cut would flatter you.”
“Honestly, I don’t think it will be soon.”
“I could get married too,” Donna said.
“Oh, sweetie, I know, but your sister…”
“To Amanda, I mean. We’ve talked about it.”
“Have you?” My father seemed surprised.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t we?”
“You haven’t been together long.”
“I don’t even have a boyfriend,” I reminded my parents.
“What about that boy…? The one who came for your birthday that one year. Rhys, I think his name was.”
“We’re just friends, Mom.”
“He was handsome,” she sighed in resignation.
“Not especially classy,” Dad said.
“Why do you judge people like that?” Donna rolled her eyes. “You should get with the times. I feel like you’re stuck in the Middle Ages.”
“You’re forgetting a few things. Your father and I are very happy with each other. What matters to us is your stability. Look at Dean: so young and so focused on the important things. What’s wrong with knowing what you’re doing? If you really want to marry Amanda, that’s wonderful. As for you, Ginger, stop drinking. Your cheeks are turning red.”
“I’m trying to anesthetize myself,” I said. Donna laughed.
I still was a while later. After the meal came the dancing and the cocktail service. I had my fair share with Donna, sitting at a table with younger people we knew from work, laughing softly every time one of us said something stupid and analyzing the dance moves of the guys further off, who were trying to add their flair to the celebration. I don’t know how much time had passed or how many drinks I’d consumed when I heard my name. I knitted my brows, finished what was left in my glass, and turned around.
“Ginger, I think it’s your turn,” Mrs. Wilson said.
“My turn?” I babbled, a little woozy.
“You were supposed to give a speech,” Donna reminded me.
Shit, shit, shit. I wasn’t in any shape to give a speech, but there, in the silent room, I stood up with all the dignity I could muster and waddled like a dizzy duck in my high heels to the center of the crowd. I started sweating in front of the microphone. From my handbag, I withdrew a couple of wrinkled pieces of paper. In theory, I was going to talk about what wonderful friends I had been with Dean ever since we were little, what a beautiful couple he and Stella made, and how proud I was of him. But all I saw was a bunch of blurry letters in no order whatsoever. So I put my so-called speech away.
“Well, I, this…” I cleared my throat. “All I’d like to say is, I’ve known Dean since…I mean, since we were pooping in our diapers. And peeing. Peeing too, obviously. We’re human beings.” I heard some chuckles, but I didn’t know why. “We grew up together, then we started going out, and then he left me.” Deep silence. “And the moral of all that is, it had to happen, because he had to meet Stella, right?! Stella, by the way, the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen. Stella, I want your hair and eyelashes!” More laughter. She smiled from her table, and that encouraged me. “You make an incredible couple! Like Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston! Before the cheating and the divorce, I mean. Anyway, I’m happy for you, and I was thinking today about decisions and crossing paths and how some changes are worth it. I’m happy you met. It was destiny.”
I heard applause, and I took a deep breath, trying to keep my balance.
“I also want to add that I’m going to give you a very special gift, Dean. Besides just the high-powered blender for making smoothies and stuff. Shit! I ruined the surprise. Whatever. The other gift is…my job! That’s right, I’m giving you my job. And my office. It’s horrible. I hate it so, so much…”
This time, there was no applause. Just murmurs.
Donna started walking over.
“I think… I think you’ll do an incredible job at the company,” I went on. I couldn’t stop myself; it was as if all of a sudden I was vomiting everything up. “And that’s only to be expected. You’re an incredible guy. So smart. Just so you know, the desk wobbles a little, but…”
“Ginger, that’s enough. Wrap it up.”
“Goodbye! Thanks everyone! Long live the bride and groom!”
Another round of applause, whistling, hurrahs.
I don’t know why, but I couldn’t stop smiling.