Chapter 13
Chapter thirteen
As Naomi entered the room, she was greeted by a harmonious chorus of “Ooh!” It was the sound she would expect to hear when walking in wearing a potential wedding dress.
The other sounds, the shuffle of the NGN camera operator moving in for a closer shot and the click-click of the NGN photographer capturing everyone’s reactions, not so much.
Two weeks ago, she would have checked “single” on her tax form. But in only two weeks, that was about to change. She was going to be married. Except, she wasn’t only getting married in two weeks; she was doing it all on national television.
She hadn’t needed to give any thought to accepting Will’s proposal, but accepting NGN’s offer to film her wedding had taken a little more consideration. There were plenty of pros and cons to weigh, and she’d turned them over in her mind more than once.
For starters, she had never had any aspirations of being a celebrity of any kind, so the idea of sharing her wedding journey on such a public platform was incredibly daunting.
But having a wedding with a celebrity budget was certainly something she had dreamed of.
Then there was the issue that they wanted it to happen in a month. She would have eloped with Will a second after he proposed; however, trying to put together a television-worthy wedding in a month was an enormous undertaking.
But that celebrity budget meant she was going to have access to wedding planners, top-notch vendors, and, again, that very large budget to help make it all happen.
There was also the fact that the studio had warned them, perhaps more for Will’s benefit than her own, that a Jewish wedding would invite antisemitism from every corner of the internet.
Will was not converting, but he embraced her desire to have a Jewish life, starting with their wedding, and she knew that meant she was going to have to approach the internet and her various inboxes with care.
But she also believed in facing hatred with ometz lev, the Jewish value of a courageous heart.
And then … there was Simon. When she had said yes to Will, she knew she had said no to telling him about Simon.
For almost a year, she’d kept that part of her past locked away, growing only more certain with time that dragging Simon into their lives would do more harm than good.
She was happy, Will was happy, they were happy.
She didn’t want to change that—didn’t want to burden Will, hurt him, or make him see her differently.
And it wasn’t only that she didn’t want to tell him, Will had all but told her he didn’t want to know.
He’d been talking about reality TV, not this, but still.
Whether or not he’d feel the same about her past, the possibility had only cemented her choice to remain silent on the topic of Simon.
Now, it wasn’t just a choice—it was final. She couldn’t tell him. If she did—after a year of silence, after promising forever—how could he not see it as anything but a betrayal?
No, that door she had already closed was now nailed shut. And for the most part, she felt relief.
She didn’t have to wonder anymore if she should tell him, if she was making a mistake by keeping it to herself. The decision was set in stone, like the three flawless diamonds on her finger.
There was comfort in that certainty; in knowing she could move forward without the weight of what-ifs pressing down on her. She would honor Will’s wishes, protect what they had, and keep Simon locked away in the past where he belonged.
She knew, however, that there was a chance that her being on TV would catch Simon’s attention.
But it seemed more likely that her television debut would keep him away.
He had only been able to do what he did precisely because he stayed in the shadows, so that no one, including the authorities, could prove or would even believe that someone like him was capable of the things he had done.
Exposure was his greatest weakness, and being on TV meant she was stepping into the light, somewhere he couldn’t follow.
So, in actuality, it seemed like being in the public eye was probably the best way to keep Will safe.
When she weighed it all out, the choice became clear. Fear made up the cons, but the pros were undeniable—so she had agreed to put herself and her wedding on Nightly Global News.
NGN wasted no time and immediately began having a short “Wedding Special” segment each night at the end of the show.
With only four weeks to plan an entire wedding, she and Will had been busy selecting everything from the chuppah they would get married under to the playlist of songs they would dance to.
And they had done it all on camera.
Heading into week three, it was time to pick wedding party attire and, in doing so, reveal the wedding party—something they could finally do because the studio had at long last approved their picks.
She and Will had been forbidden from discussing their wedding party until potential candidates had been vetted by the station.
It seemed a bit over the top—it wasn’t like she was picking the Vice President of the United States.
But NGN was footing the bill for everything, including the $15,000 dress she was currently donning, so who was she to ask questions?
Those two weeks of waiting had been particularly grueling for Riley, who had channeled their anxiety into late-night texts to her and Abby.
RILEY: Naomi, if you love me, you’ll tell me if Will picked me. TELL ME.
NAOMI: I love you but not enough to get slapped with a lawsuit for breaking my NDA.
RILEY: Are you prepared to get slapped with a wrongful death lawsuit? Because if Will doesn’t pick me, I’ll fling myself off the Michigan Avenue Bridge
ABBY: That bridge isn’t very high. You’d probably survive
RILEY: The weight of my sorrow will drag me to the bottom of the river.
She knew, of course, that Will had picked them.
“I knew he was going to pick me,” Riley had told her after they had found out.
Now, they were with Will and the other half of his wedding party—a cousin she had never met named Lucas—somewhere downtown getting fitted for tuxes while she was with her bridesmaids selecting their dresses and hers.
“I love it, but I’m not going to lie, this dress doesn’t say ‘do me,’” Becca said. She was lounging sensuously on a velvet chaise at the foot of the dressing stage, skimming through her phone.
“For the last time, Becca, just because you wore a wedding dress so see-through you wouldn’t need to go through a metal detector at the airport does not mean that Naomi wants the same thing,” Abby said.
“For someone who claims to be sex-positive, you are sex positively boring. And since you so kindly brought up my marriage, maybe you’d like to take the time to inspect all the grey hairs, AKA the only thing I’ve gotten from going to the marriage counseling stuff you suggested.”
“I’m not—that’s not—ughhh,” Abby growled.
Naomi’s original plan had been to have Abby as her one and only bridesmaid.
But the execs weren’t too keen on the idea of such a small wedding party and insisted she invite at least one more person.
Becca was a natural addition, being as much family to her as Abby was.
But that was also part of the problem. Trying to get the sisters to work together felt a lot like trying to get siblings to get along in the back seat of the car.
“I’m done listening to your marriage advice,” Becca said. “I’m taking matters into my own hands.”
“Fine by me,” Abby replied. “You were the one demanding I give you the advice. Now, can we get back to Naomi? You look gorgeous but at the risk of being on the same page with my sister, it’s not my favorite.”
Naomi expected Becca to come back with a retort, but instead she gasped.
“Oh my god, Naomi. Did you know your hashtag is trending?” She stood up and walked over to Naomi.
“Look! #Wilomi! You have a couple name! This is it, girl. You’ve peaked.
If society gives you a couple name, there’s literally no higher you can go. ”
Naomi’s cheeks grew hot. “No, we’re not a big deal,” she said, trying to sound like she was focused more on the dress than on the incredibly uncomfortable concept that they were a big deal.
But even as she denied it, she knew that they maybe, kind of, actually, were.
She’d started to get an inkling of their rising fame about halfway through the first week when her Instagram account followers went from two digits to six, even though her profile had nothing more than about a dozen photos of meals she’d eaten over the last three years.
The next day on the drive to work, her phone rang, and it was a friend screaming to turn on 101.
9 FM because The Morning Mix was taking a poll on their wedding band auditions (sixty-two percent of listeners agreed with their decision to go with the Trixie Trio rather than the flashier Bebe and the Babes.
It felt nice to have some public affirmation).
Then last week, interview requests started pouring in.
First, it was a local blogger. Then, a big-time bridal blogger.
Then, a Chicago television talk show invited them on for an interview.
When she got the call offering to fly them out for a spot on The Tonight Show, she realized things were getting really serious between her, Will, and the public.
The studio was thrilled about it. The five-minute segment at the end of the news became ten minutes, and then they added a thirty-minute special after the nightly news that bumped the King of Queens reruns. Sorry, Kevin James.
Trying to juggle planning a wedding in a month made her too busy to really think about her growing fame—or at least that was her excuse for not thinking about it.
She was pretty sure if she thought about it too much, if she allowed herself to think about what it meant that she was “famous,” she’d burrow under her covers and never come out.