Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
Felicity took the news about me quitting surprisingly well.
I must have picked a good day, because she’s hands-down the most intimidating person in the company.
I told her, with confidence and conviction, that I’d like to try something new, and she told me that she understood my desire to try a different field and encouraged me to follow my intuition.
Since summer was slow, there was no need for two weeks’ notice.
And just like that, I walked out without guilt, feeling oddly lighter, like I’d just stepped out of someone else’s story and back into my own.
I spent a peaceful few days of writing and thinking—and of course responding to a few sweet texts from Zach.
The wedding’s just a week away and I’m at Gia’s house, a.k.a.
ground zero. Several shoeboxes are scattered across the floor, RSVP cards are strewn across the table, and a binder lies open on the coffee table, smothered in pale purple and pink sticky notes.
A steamer sits idle in front of the couch, its cord snaking along the floor—a perfect tripping hazard.
On the ottoman, a tower of wedding magazines leans precariously, pages dog-eared and bristling with tabs.
Unfortunately, the chaos isn’t just in my surroundings.
Gia’s more wound up than I’ve seen her before—and that’s saying a lot. She’s so incredibly nervous that she’s moving like a robot on overdrive. She’s talking faster, switching from topic to topic, and I need to find a way to calm her down before she completely crashes.
“So, on the day of, the florist is delivering first thing in the morning, and the cake will be brought in an hour after that. I just hope that the groomsmen pick up their suits in time and wear the pocket squares like I told them to. Hold on, do you think it was a mistake to ask for lobster and cream cheese balls at the cocktail hour? What if some guests are lactose intolerant and they’re in the bathroom during the introductions?
I should have thought of that.” Gia has a panicked look on her face, and she’s got her hands pressed against her cheeks like she doesn’t know what else to do with them.
She starts walking toward the display of her and Mark’s baby pictures but then spins on her heels and walks toward the flats of favors instead, inspecting the ribbons, probably making sure that the ends are still curled the way she wants them.
“You need to try and relax,” I say in a soothing tone. “Everything’s ready and it’s going to go so well—you know it is. You’ve put so much time into ensuring every detail goes off without a hitch and now you just need to let it all go the way you planned.”
My calming words seem to have zero effect on Gia.
She’s past the point of reasoning. She zips past me, dodging my embrace, and stops in front of the seating chart canvas, the one that gave her grief a few weeks ago.
She stares at the names and sighs loudly.
“I might as well scratch Jayden’s name off with a Sharpie since you couldn’t wait a few more weeks to dump him after practically living with the guy for like nine years.
And now you’re telling me we need to invite Dad’s new girlfriend who’s barely out of diapers?
What’s the point of even having this chart?
It’s all wrong.” She sighs loudly and kicks the stand.
The canvas topples over and lands on the bags of bridesmaids’ gifts.
“Great! Now I broke it,” she yells and throws herself onto the sofa, sobbing loudly.
I sit next to her, allowing a little space because I know tantrums like these involve some leg kicks during their early stages.
“Gia,” I say, trying to channel all the calmness I’ve got left.
“You’re okay and everything’s going to be fine.
The seating chart isn’t broken and it’s so gorgeous that you could probably use it as wall art after the wedding.
The only changes to your chart involve Jayden not coming, which just means one empty seat.
No need for a Sharpie. Then there’s Mom and Dad and all we need to do is tell them where they can sit instead.
Yes, people will notice that they have new .
. .” I nearly choke on the word. “Lovers . . . but no one will notice the errors on the chart. I think you’re just overwhelmed right now.
” I cautiously rest a hand on her back, half scared that she’ll whip around and bite it off.
Gia’s body begins to go limp, which is normally what happens in the second stage of her tantrums. She whimpers quietly, her face buried in the couch. “You really think we have to invite Dad’s girlfriend too?”
“It’s not really a question, Gia. Think of Dad.”
“Okay,” she says. “But this is totally not the way I was picturing my wedding day.”
“Sometimes things don’t happen the way you expect them to, and you just need to adjust your expectations,” I say like I’m ready to write a self-help book.
“Yeah.”
“I really think you should see or at least call both Mom and Dad before your wedding day. If you don’t, I can see your feelings coming crashing out during the wedding, and I seriously doubt you want that to happen.”
“See them?” Gia repeats. “See them? Now? There’s no way I can do that. I’m way too stressed. I can’t even handle small changes at this point!”
I sigh. “Maybe in a few days then?”
“What’s with all the breakups?” Gia whispers, ignoring my question.
“Why is everyone I’ve ever looked up to breaking up all of a sudden?
” She narrows her eyes at me and her voice lowers an octave.
Scary shit. “Couldn’t you just have stayed together just a couple more weeks, Lexi?
Couldn’t you have taken some time to think it through a little longer?
Why did you need to do it right before my wedding day? ”
“I’m sorry,” I say, leaning over to wrap her in my arms. “I didn’t mean to break up with Jayden when I did, but I had doubts, and I had to be honest with him. I wish I could have waited . . . but it was something I needed to do right then, right at that moment.”
“I honestly thought you and Jayden were going to be together forever. I thought you’d be having kids in a few years, the whole nine yards.
I pictured our future children playing together,” Gia says softly.
“Jayden was like a brother to me. I thought you two were rock solid, and you just dumped him out of the blue. What if I’m wrong about Mark and then I’m just stuck with him?
What if I realize I’m wrong about him on the wedding day?
It would be a complete shitshow. Mom and Dad there with their lovers.
You there, alone like a . . . like a sock that lost its match.
” I have an urge to make fun of her sock line but bite my tongue.
“Maybe I should just call the whole thing off.”
I take her face in my hand and look into her eyes.
“No. You and Mark are great together. There’s just a ton of confusing stuff happening all at once.
It’s normal to have cold feet, but of course that’s going to happen when everyone around you is a mess.
I’m sorry that my shit has affected you.
You don’t deserve this, especially right now. ”
“I don’t,” Gia says. “But it has me thinking and I’m totally freaking out right now.
” She sits up straight on the couch with wide eyes.
“My wedding’s in a week. Seven days from now I’m going to be walking down the aisle toward Mark, saying that I’ll be with him forever.
Meanwhile, every relationship I’ve ever looked up to and admired is falling apart at a time when I should be happier than I’ve ever been in my life.
What the hell am I going to do? I don’t think I can do this. I need to call the wedding off.”
Mark must notice the commotion through the back windows.
He catches our eye from out in the backyard, where he’s sitting on a deck chair near the barbecue, waiting for the okay to start grilling us some burgers for lunch.
He waves and slowly starts making his way to the patio door.
I know Gia and she can act like a caged animal when she’s freaking out and more pressure is laid on her.
Bad timing. I wave my hands at Mark and shake my head hard, gesturing at Gia and trying to impersonate one of her tantrum faces, but his brow just furrows in confusion, and he continues lumbering toward the door. Abort mission, Mark.
Gia catches sight of him and jumps to her feet. “I have to go. I’m leaving. I can’t talk to him right now.” She grabs her purse off the coffee table and runs toward the front door. It slams behind her.
Oh shit.
Mark sits on the loveseat across from me, swiping a hand over his bald head. “What was that? Gia ran out of here like our house is on fire.”
What am I supposed to say here? Tell him the truth that Gia’s having major cold feet and she wants to call off the whole wedding? I can’t do that. “She had to go get something,” I blurt.
“Why were you waving at me like you didn’t want me to come in and making those faces like you’re constipated?”
I cringe. “Well, it was a feminine emergency, if you catch my drift.”
Mark shakes his head. “Nope. Not following.” Oh my god, how is he not following?
“Gia needed tampons,” I say, annoyed by his ignorance, even though I’m not even telling the truth. Maybe this will make him stop asking questions. “Things were about to get . . . messy.”
“Oh, okay.” Mark stands, completely unfazed. “I could have gone for her if she’d asked. Do you think she’ll be gone long? Should I start grilling lunch now?”
Who knows how long Gia will be. Could be an hour, could be ten. “Maybe wait until she gets back?” I suggest. “Sometimes she takes a while. To . . . uh . . . find the brand she likes.”
“Okay. I’ll be out back. Let me know when you two are ready.
” Mark slides the patio door open and sits on one of the deck chairs, putting his feet up on a planter and his hands behind his head.
He looks ready to wait patiently but probably not for as long as he needs to. If I know my sister, she’ll be a while.
An hour passes and Gia still isn’t answering her phone. Outside, Mark paces around and then slides the patio door back open. “Is Gia okay?” Mark asks. “I tried calling a few times. Maybe she’s feeling faint from an iron deficiency if it’s a heavy flow day?”
How refreshing that Gia’s found a partner who is so comfortable discussing menstruation. “I’m sure she’s okay. I’ll go check on her.” I stand and go out front, expecting Gia’s car to be gone, but it’s still there. Gia, however, is nowhere to be seen.
I cross the street, pretty sure I know where she is. And sure enough, Gia’s on the bench in front of her favorite beauty supply store, knees cradled against her chest. “I don’t think I can go through with it,” she says without looking at me as I approach.
I place my hand lightly on her knee. “Look, you can do whatever’s in your heart.
That is exactly what Mom did and that’s exactly what I did.
Sometimes the timing of stuff feels all wrong, but if you really think you don’t want to be with Mark, that’s up to you.
Don’t let the pressure of the wedding make you feel like you have to go through with it if it’s really something you don’t want. ”
“I just need to process everything,” Gia says. “I love Mark and I want to marry him. I just need to calm down.”
“I can call Mark and tell him we decided to run a few errands, and you can come to my place for as long as you need.”
“It’s okay,” Gia whispers. “I’ll be okay in a minute, I think.”
We sit for a while, watching cars drive by and people walking down the sidewalks on either side of the road.
Customers come out of the beauty supply store holding little green bags with smiles on their faces.
Gia’s shoulders start to relax. Ever since she was a little girl, I was always the one she came to when she was feeling overwhelmed, and I’m relieved that this is still how she acts when she’s coming to terms with everything.
Gia takes a long, deep breath. “I feel a little better now. I just kind of panicked.”
I wrap my arms around her and give her a long hug. “Mark’s a good guy. I don’t think you have anything to worry about with him. You’ve been looking forward to this day for a long time. Don’t let anyone else’s bullshit ruin that for you. You’re going to have a great wedding.”
Despite my words, and knowing how dramatic Gia sometimes is, I can definitely foresee some drama at the wedding.
Maybe a confrontation, maybe some tears—but overall, Gia’s been agonizing over every little detail of this day, and in the end, I truly believe it will go well, despite any snags that may happen.
“I think I’m ready to go back now,” Gia says finally. She slips her hand in mine, and we stand and begin walking back to her house.
Mark’s at the table, a book in hand, when we get inside.
He looks up, pushing his reading glasses up on his nose, and studies Gia’s expression carefully. He glances at me and back at her. “That wasn’t about tampons, was it?”
Gia shoots me an annoyed look, then turns back to him. “No.”
Mark puts his book down and gives her an encouraging smile. “A little cold feet, maybe?”
Gia nods, staring down at the floor.
“It happens,” Mark says kindly. “It would be strange if you didn’t have cold feet.
The wedding’s a week away. I get it.” Gia rushes toward him and Mark takes her in his arms, boosting her up onto his lap.
She rests her head on his shoulders and closes her eyes, and he murmurs something, running his hands across her back comfortingly.
I leave the room and nestle into the sofa in their living room, feeling like it’s an intimate moment that I don’t want to interrupt. My sister’s found a good one. Mark understands her, is there for her. He’s the partner she needs. Hopefully her cold feet are gone for good now.