On the Rocks(61)

“My ill-mannered daughters mistook your dressing room for the WWF ring. That’s what happened. Honestly, girls, it’s as if no one taught you how to behave in public. Can I have some more champagne, sweetie?” my mom said, holding out her glass to the understandably shocked sales associate.

“I think maybe I should go,” I whispered, the realization of what I had just been reduced to, and what I had done to my sister, finally sinking in.

“I’ll never forgive you for this, Abby. Not for as long as I live.”

“That makes two of us, Katie,” I said. And for the second and hopefully last time, I left Vera Wang in tears.

I went directly to the grocery store and bought some ice cream to bring to Grace. We sat on the couch for hours as she cried and talked about how important her relationship with Johnny really was to her, trying to rationalize what had happened and make peace with the fact that the road to getting what she wanted had left some casualties along the way. As hard as it is when you’re the one who ends up hurt, it’s even worse when you realize that you’re the one hurting other people. I lay on the couch with her and tried to cheer her up while knowing that I had just hit my own personal rock bottom. There was no way I could possibly have felt worse about myself than I did sitting on Grace’s couch with a swollen face and a heavy heart.

Hours later I went home and stared out the window, trying to figure out why both Grace and I faced such challenges in the love department. I was too ashamed to tell Grace what I had done, and I felt so badly about myself, I decided to do the smart thing and make myself feel even worse.

You around?

Hey you. How was your day?

Traumatizing. Katie got my wedding dress. She’s going to be married in the dress I was going to be married in . . . assuming they can fix it.

I’m sorry. I’m sure you’d have looked better in it.

Especially considering I attacked her and ripped it, yeah, probably.

You ripped it?

What have you done to me?

I don’t get it.

That doesn’t surprise me. You never did.

I had felt pretty bad for most of the last year, but when I crawled into bed that night, I felt like the worst person on earth. It was time to stop playing the “poor pitiful me” card. After today, it was pretty clear that I deserved everything I got.





Chapter 15



Real Men Wear Pink




I WENT BACK to the beach and tried to figure out how to handle the fact that I freaked out on my innocent sister and her even more innocent dress. It took a lot of apologizing to Katie’s voicemail and begging for forgiveness to get her to speak to me again, not to mention two bouquets of flowers and a gift certificate for a pre-wedding facial. I didn’t blame her for being angry with me—hell, I would probably never have spoken to me again—but I had one thing working in my favor, and she and I both knew it. She needed me to control our mother on the quickly approaching wedding day. Granted, that was nearly impossible, but someone had to at least try. And for that, she’d forgive me for just about anything.

Meanwhile, I spent a few days trying to get myself mentally prepared for my date. It was the second week of July, and I was ready for this little project to finally start to produce results. I couldn’t decide what to wear and had gone through the contents of my entire closet twice before I admitted that I needed some reinforcement.

“What do you think?” I asked Lara as I did one last spin in front of the mirror. “Does this dress cover my love handles or do I look fat?” Lara had stopped by on her way home from work to wish me luck and give me final outfit approval. I was so happy that I had Lara to hang out with while Grace spent the workweek in the city. Without her, I’d have had to ask Bobby or Wolf what they thought of my outfit, and since Wolf thought that it was hot if a girl wore a dirndl and Bobby adhered to the less-is-more mentality, I doubted that either of them would have been of much help.

“I think you look cute. I don’t really know what girls wear on dates anymore, but I like it.”

“Did you used to freak out about this stuff when you were dating your husband?” I asked.

She ran her hand through her hair and tucked it behind her ear. “I used to freak out about everything. I thought my husband was the most handsome man in the world when we were dating. I used to worry that if I didn’t look perfect or act perfect or be the perfect girlfriend, he’d break up with me or something. It wasn’t normal. Just remember that the guys you want to be with are supposed to make you feel comfortable, not crazy. Trust me when I tell you I learned that one the hard way.” She began to spin her rings, as per usual, but now I wondered if she did it out of endearment or habit, or because she felt like her finger was wearing a handcuff she wished she could remove.

“That’s a good rule! You’re right. It’s just dinner. How bad could it be?” I realized that Lara always seemed sad and a bit disillusioned, except for the few times I’d seen her talk about her husband. Then she just seemed seriously pissed off.

“It’ll be fine,” she said. “My idea of an exciting night these days consists of ice cream and a romance novel. I’ll be lucky if I’m awake at ten.”

“Ice cream and a book sound pretty good to me,” I admitted, smoothing wayward frizz along my hairline. “Part of me wishes I was doing that too.” I thought fondly of many cozy nights with my friends from the freezer.