Anything but Ordinary(54)
As she thought of the invitation’s question mark now, Bryce imagined it like the birth and death dates for famous figures from history or civics class. Abraham Lincoln (1809–1865). Martin Luther King, Jr. (1929–1968). Occasionally, you would look up someone who was still alive, and the dates were open-ended (1950–?).
Bryce’s dates ended in a question mark, too. But not for long.
She wondered with a funny pang if Dr. Warren knew the approximate date of her death. Why stop at a wedding rehearsal? They could have a funeral rehearsal, too. She would test out the coffin, hear everyone say nice things, make sure they picked the right music. She laughed to herself at the thought, though it made her stomach turn.
Just the other day she was standing in the Saks dressing room with Gabby, trying on her bridesmaid dress and dreaming about her own wedding. And now…Bryce couldn’t help it. More tears gathered in her eyes.
One of the brunettes leaned in, her manicured hand holding bread dipped in olive oil. “Save your tears for the toast, honey. A crying maid of honor always kills it.”
No one had told her she had to make a toast. Maybe Gabby would let her off the hook because she knew how bad Bryce was at public speaking.
Elena, Gabby’s mother, excused herself from a conversation with Greg’s parents and approached their end of the table.
“Bryce, darling,” she said, squatting down, her dark eyes shining. “How are you?”
“I’m good,” Bryce said, composing herself.
The clinking of crystal sounded over the din. Gabby stood up, a glass of red wine in her hand. Elena smiled apologetically at Bryce and retook her seat.
As everyone brought their conversations to a close, Bryce glanced in front of her and realized her wineglass had been removed. That was thoughtful of them. But at this very moment, she wished they hadn’t been quite so thoughtful.
“Mary, pour me a glass of wine, okay?” Bryce whispered as Gabby began speaking, telling the story of her and Greg’s first date.
“But I thought—” she whispered back.
“One glass isn’t going to kill me,” Bryce said, pursing her lips.
“Are you sure?”
Zen, trying to listen to Gabby’s speech, snatched the bottle, filled a generous glass, and placed it in front of Bryce. Mary shrugged and went back to listening.
“—and then, it was just like a movie. We had climbed down this cliff to an empty beach, and I didn’t care that we were lost, or even that my pants were dirty.”
The table tittered, the women among them wiped their eyes. Gabby had them in the palm of her hand. Bryce pushed out a real smile for her friend. Her lovely, entrancing friend.
“All I could see was Greg. And it’s been the same ever since. To my darling husband-to-be, and to all of you!” Gabby finished, raising her glass. Bryce followed the rest of the table and raised her own, taking a sip. Her first glass of wine. It tasted like spicy, sour juice. She took another sip.
Suddenly, Zen was grabbing Bryce by the elbows, standing her up. “Maid of honor!” she cried.
“I don’t have anything,” she said in a low voice.
“Just say what you feel right now,” Zen whispered.
Bryce floated above the faces in the dim light. Greg’s groomsmen looked at Bryce, their polite smiles like carbon copies of one another, their toned arms crossed over their chests. Greg fiddled with his risotto. Bryce tightened her hand around the stem of the wineglass.
What she felt. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to be here.”
She stopped. That was supposed to sound like she was actually happy. She pushed on. “I remember the first time I heard Greg and Gabby were getting married.…” The sips of alcohol were swimming to her stomach like they had on that day at Los Pollitos. “We were at a restaurant and I had just, you know, come home. And I was happy for them.”
Lies. Gabby’s face twisted into a smile, trying to keep back tears.
“I’m happy for them now,” Bryce continued.
Their lives stretched in front of them, and behind them. Bryce’s life was another day gone.
“And I will always be happy for them.…” Her life was draining by the minute, by the second. And so was her blood. Isn’t that what Carter said? Draining from her brain.
People were starting to fidget. Bryce swallowed her nerves. She should get it together. She didn’t want to leave them with this impression of her. These sniveling, stumbling words. She took a deep breath.
“Gabby and Greg have been a blessing to me. They’re my best friends. As you know, it’s been an eventful few years for all of us.” Scattered laughter. Bryce paused, looking into her glass. She looked up. “It’s been amazing to have them around, to remind me of how great our pasts were. But I know the future’s going to be even better. To Gabby and Greg,” Bryce finished, because she didn’t know what she was supposed to do at the end. She didn’t know anything about any of this, and she needed some time. She needed more time.
Elena stood up and raised her glass with everyone at the table. Bryce set down her wine with a splash and made a beeline for the bathroom.
It was dark inside the small, tiled room. She couldn’t find the light switch. She shuffled through the space, feeling tile after tile. Why couldn’t she find one freaking light switch? She heard her own heavy breathing, scattered with sobs.