Chapter 13
Every muscle in my body tensed when Victoria plopped down in the chair next to me with a devious smile. “I have excellent news for you.”
Gabriela’s wedding was finally here, and the past few hours had been a rush of booming laughter and juggled schedules. She had the largest bridal party I had ever seen, with twenty bridesmaids, and the mass of people getting ready filled the suite to the max. Garment bags, hair spray, and piles of makeup turned the big, airy room into a claustrophobic nightmare.
It was a novel experience compared with my wedding, which consisted of me, my mom, my sister, and two other friends getting ready together at my house before the wedding. I flitted between overwhelmed and exhilarated by the energy they all brought.
My exhilaration lessened when Victoria joined the party, squeezing through the crowd and jumping between conversations with the energy of a woman half her age. I had hoped Gabriela’s grandmother had forgotten about her interest in me over the few weeks since her shower, but my hopes were too optimistic. I should have crawled under the bed when I had the chance.
“What news, Victoria?”
She settled back into the seat with a clap of her hands. “I found you the perfect match. And call me Lola. I may be your lola soon enough.”
I suppressed a groan. Pissing off the bride’s grandma is not on the list of responsibilities of a bridesmaid.
“Lola, you’re sweet, but I don’t think it’s necessary.”
“Please,” she said with a hand clutched over her heart, like she was a benevolent god come to fix my life. “A woman like you deserves to be loved and taken care of.”
“I appreciate the sentiment, but I don’t need to be taken care of. I have a good job and am up for a big promotion. My family’s happy.”
She waved her hand. “ Pish, I know you can take care of yourself. You girls today are so sensitive. I don’t mean take care of you with money, though it certainly doesn’t hurt.” She winked, and I smiled in spite of myself. “I mean someone who will be there to support you. We all deserve to be taken care of, and that’s what a relationship is about. You will take care of him just like he takes care of you.”
It was an oddly comforting thought, and I found my mind jumping to how well Jason and I had taken care of each other over the years. We had complemented each other well, our strengths lining up to perfectly support our family.
“But don’t worry,” she said. “I have been subtle, so you can decide if you like him with no pressure.” The woman was well into her eighties and wearing a bright neon dress covered with sequins. I wasn’t sure she knew the definition of subtle.
“Who did you have in mind?” I eyed her, curious about her choice, against my better judgment.
“My grandson, Marcus. He is Gabriela’s cousin and so handsome. I convinced her to pair you two up to walk down the aisle so you have an excuse to meet him. Oh, you’ll be so beautiful together! He is tall, and he’s a doctor. Very successful. And he always wanted children but never got around to settling down, so he will take on your daughters.”
“Wanting kids of your own and being willing to date a woman who already has kids are two very different things.”
She nodded pensively. “Very true, but I already know he is open to it.”
I forced in a deep breath. “How do you know this, Lola?”
“I asked him before I convinced Gabi to put you together.”
“So he knows your plan?”
“Of course he does! Why wouldn’t he?”
So much for subtle. I opted to ignore the conflicting statements and focus on getting out of her matchmaking scheme instead.
“Fine.” I hoped placating her would move her attention to someone else, at least temporarily. I turned back to the woman in front of me, who was using her magic makeup to transform me into the most beautiful version of myself. I focused on the feeling of the brushes and glimpses of the colors she was using, trying not to stress over the potentially disastrous embarrassment waiting for me at the church. The end result shocked me, the version of myself I always strived for but could never quite achieve with my makeup skills.
I moved to the next chair, letting the stylist straighten and then recurl my hair into long, romantic ringlets falling halfway down my back. She braided in flowers and ivy through a crown at the top of my head, keeping my hair off my face but leaving it soft everywhere else. As I looked over the final product, I wished they had been at my wedding.
Still in my robe, but ready otherwise, I moved over next to Gabriela. “Hi, friend!”
“What do you want?” She barely moved her face in an attempt to stay still for the makeup artist.
“Nothing. Can’t a girl visit with her best friend on her wedding day?” I feigned innocence as I fiddled with my robe. “But since we’re already talking, I was wondering if the pairs for the bridesmaids and groomsmen were set in stone.”
Gabriela turned quickly to me, her eyes bright and excited. I saw the makeup artist cringe, annoyed by the disruption but unable to say anything to the bride.
“Why? Is there someone you want to be paired with?”
“Kind of the opposite. Your lola is setting me up with your cousin, Marcus, and she already told him. It’s going to be so awkward. Can you switch us?”
She patted my arm. “I’m sorry, honey. There is no stopping Lola when she gets an idea in her head. I wish I could, but the pairs are already printed in the program and given to the DJ to announce us at the reception. Maybe you can make the best of this. Marcus is a great guy!”
“God, you are all going to kill me. You, Sophie, Lola, and Dani should make a club. The Set Up Juliana to Death Club.” I slumped back into the chair dramatically. My pout would have made Sophie proud.
“You’re right. We should leave you alone—”
“Thank you.”
“—since you’re already in love with Ben.”
“Piss off.” I pushed off the chair.
“We’ll get you to admit it eventually,” she called after me, and I flipped her off without turning around.
Our bridesmaids’ dresses were pretty, a light pink that complemented my brown hair and olive skin. It was simple and comfortable, and I was thankful she didn’t go with something over the top.
Another hour, manic organization, and eight full cars later, we finally made it to the church. Gabriela was a vision, wearing an elaborately embroidered dress with butterfly sleeves handmade by a family member in Manila. It was one of a kind, just like her.
The planner had already lined up the groomsmen, instructing us to find our partners. I found Marcus and had to give it to Lola. Her taste didn’t suck. He was tall, six one or two, with beautiful black hair. He smiled when he saw me, his soft brown eyes twinkling.
“Marcus? I’m Juliana.”
“It’s great to meet you in person.” He reached out for a respectful handshake. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“From your lola ?” I cringed, and he laughed loudly.
“Yes, from my lola. No pressure. I am sorry for her meddling. She’s subjected us all to it at least once in our lives, but she normally doesn’t pull these antics with people outside of the family. You must be special.”
“Sure. Special.” I laughed.
“She tells me you have kids?”
My smile softened. “Yeah, Clara and Sophie. They are nine and seven now. It’s been just the three of us since my husband passed away a few years ago.”
He nodded, but I saw his body tense a bit at the mention of Jason.
“So what do you do?” He blatantly changed the subject away from my husband, and I cringed again. Clearly, he fell in the sad-things-make-me-uncomfortable category.
We talked for a few minutes about our work, the worst interviews I’d been forced to sit through, and stories from his hospital that were equal parts entertaining and horrifying. He was sweet and interesting, and I could understand why Lola thought we would be a good fit. I stood in the back of the church, arm woven through Marcus’s as we waited.
“Our turn,” Marcus whispered beside me, and the two of us started down the aisle.
The church was beautiful, an elaborate Catholic cathedral with art lining the walls and a giant stained-glass window at the front. Enormous bouquets lined the aisle leading to the altar, and I looked over the congregation as I made my way down. An irrational part of my brain skimmed the crowd for someone who couldn’t possibly be there. A head of auburn waves and the sparkling hazel eyes that had greeted me at the end of my own aisle. This was the first wedding I had attended since Jason died, and I tried not to think about the fact that he should have been here.
Instead, I found my friends and let them ground me. I spotted Rosario—Fish Dip Girl, though I’d keep that nickname to myself—whom Dani had been dating since our trip to the farmers market a few weeks ago. Dani was beside her, a mischievous grin on her face that had me narrowing my eyes. Asia was next, dwarfed by the fourth person in their row. Broad shoulders and dark brown hair that curled slightly at the ends. Ben turned his head toward me, and a shock of adrenaline shot through me.
My feet faltered, and Marcus tightened his grip on my arm to keep me from falling. I looked up to find him smiling reassuringly at me, but my gaze was instantly drawn back to Ben. He was watching me intently, and a scowl of frustration took over my face. I wasn’t sure if the scowl was at him or at myself for the goose bumps along my arms. I forced my face back into an angelic smile, knowing Gabriela would have my head if I was frowning in her wedding photographs. I thought of things that made me happy—beautiful tulips, my kids’ smiles, a stroll through a Parisian garden, anything but Ben.
After a couple weeks of reflection, I could recognize that I could have—maybe, possibly—overreacted to the whole Paris situation. But that didn’t mean pursuing something with him was a good idea. Our worlds were too intertwined. Work, our friends, now even our kids were obsessed with each other. If, or more likely when, things went wrong, I couldn’t escape him. He was everywhere. I felt him everywhere.
The ceremony was beautiful. Gabriela and Christopher incorporated lovely traditions, and as I watched their godparents lay the veil and cord around the couple, I thought about how magical it was to have your entire community integrated into your wedding ceremony.
My heart swelled, thinking back to my own ceremony, the joy and love I felt when I stood opposite Jason and pledged to spend my life loving him. Even knowing how things would end, the pain and heartbreak when I lost him, I would not have given up a single day with him. Looking at Gabriela and Christopher, I knew they’d make the same decision. Nothing in this life was guaranteed, but the decision to choose love, for however long we got to have it, was always the right one.
The ceremony passed quickly, despite the fact that it was a full Catholic wedding infused with a half dozen Filipino traditions. Suddenly, we were being ushered back down the aisle in a haze of cheers and tears, with twenty emotional women rushing to hug and congratulate their best friend all at once.
Next were group pictures, an hour of posed and “candid” shots of us all having a great time in a large field framed by old oak trees. We covered our eyes while the new couple kissed. Each bridesmaid climbed on her paired groomsman’s back. We jumped hundreds of times in an—unsuccessful—attempt to get one with all of us in the air.
Finally, it came to one-on-one pictures between the bride and her bridesmaids. I stood to the side waiting for my turn, knowing we’d have to wait around for a while with a group this size. The cocktail hour was across the field, and I spotted Asia walking over to say hi in her stunning emerald dress.
She gestured for me to spin when she got close, and I twirled with a laugh, dropping into a curtsy.
“I know I call you babe all the time,” she said. “But you are really owning the nickname today.”
I widened my eyes and whispered, “And it only took four hours and three professionals to get me there.”
She laughed and wrapped her arm around my waist. “How’re you doing?”
“I’m okay,” I said, dropping my cheek down on the top of her head. “Thank you for checking on me.”
“Of course, babe. I’ve always got your back.”
A skeptical hum escaped me as I thought about just who was waiting at the cocktail hour. “Well, not always.”
She jerked back, her eyebrows raising toward her hairline. “Excuse me?”
“Who’d you bring as your plus-one, Asia?”
Her eyebrows flew up even higher. “I have always supported you. Are you really saying I’m not a good friend because I invited another friend you don’t like to a wedding?”
“Are you really saying you didn’t do it to screw with me after I admitted we kissed?” I was so over the meddling. The pushing and the laughter. Look at Juliana. She can’t sort out how she feels. It’s hilarious.
“Oh my god, could you be more self-centered?” she asked, while I crossed my arms over my chest. “Let’s think about this for a minute. We’re at a wedding where I know a handful of people: the bride; my best friend, who is in the bridal party and won’t be around; and my sister, who’s so wrapped up in her new girlfriend that she doesn’t see anyone else. So I invited one of my favorite people so I wouldn’t be alone all night. But yeah, let’s talk about how it’s about you.”
The truth of her words hit me but clashed with my frustration before any rationality could take over. “You have plenty of other people you could have invited.”
“Sure, but I didn’t want to. I wanted to bring one of my best friends because I knew we’d have the most fun.”
“He’s not a nice person, Asia.”
I knew my words weren’t true. He’d shown me that already. But I was in a game of tug-of-war, conflicting parts of myself pulling me toward and away from him. If I admitted a change of heart to my friend, I’d give the other side too much strength and the game would end—possibly with me face down in the mud. Again.
Asia’s laugh was equal parts angry and exasperated as she ran her hands over her face. “Yes, he is a nice person. He’s been an ass to you, but you’ve been right there with him, something I’ve never called you out on because I don’t want to get in the middle of it. But here I am, exactly where I’ve told you repeatedly I didn’t want to be. He isn’t the one asking me to choose between my friends, so if you think there’s an asshole in this situation, maybe you need to look in a damn mirror.”
She turned to walk back to the cocktail hour as a wave of guilt crashed over me.
I didn’t expect to see him today. I thought I’d spend the evening dancing with my friends, then suddenly he was there—the physical manifestation of my inability to make up my mind. This whole thing was frustrating and confusing, but it wasn’t an excuse to take it out on my friend who really did always have my back.
I was the asshole.
I took a step after her. “Asia, wait—”
“Juliana,” Gabriela called from her perfectly framed spot under one of the trees. “You’re up! Let’s finish this so we can get to the party!”
I sent one last glance at Asia before turning back to the bride. I’d have the whole reception to fix things with her. And I’d deal with Ben being here. It was one night.
How much damage could I do?