On the Rocks(66)

“You knew about this?” Katie screamed, turning her fury on me now. Any goodwill I had incurred was gone.

“No, you did not! I specifically asked you what you were wearing, and you said you wanted to surprise us!” I said, still in shock. “I knew nothing about this!”

“We spoke on the phone about it over a month ago,” my mother replied innocently.

“No, we spoke about what color car would be best. A car, not a dress. And I said black. Has all that Botox seeped into your brain?”

“Oh, calm down. What’s the big deal? I want to make sure that everyone knows that I am the mother of the bride. That’s all. It’s not like I’m wearing a veil or anything!”

Oh my God, I thought. My mom was one of those T-shirt-wearing chicks from the bachelorette party. I should probably consider myself lucky she didn’t have a tiara perched on top of her lacquered bob.

“This isn’t happening,” Katie whispered. The Wilkes sisters were apparently wedding-cursed. At least I’d finally found something we had in common.

“Don’t worry,” I said to Katie, realizing that we were going to lose this battle. “Just stand next to me all night. Look at the bright side: now you have an excuse not to go anywhere near her.”

“Abby, she . . . I think I saw that dress in Vera Wang.”

“It’s not that bad. You make a way prettier bride than she does, I swear.” I could not believe I just said that.

“Why don’t you just tackle her and rip it so she has to change?” Katie sobbed.

“Okay, it’s your day, so I’m going to let that go,” I replied, trying to keep the very tenuous peace agreement between us intact.

“I’m not kidding, Abby. Do it,” Katie ordered. I thought about it for a second. My mother wasn’t anywhere near as strong as Katie was, and I was pretty sure I could take her.

The doorbell rang, and I ran to answer it, happy to buy some time so I could figure out a way to persuade my mother to change. When the small, stocky woman appeared on the doorstep with our bouquets, my sister grabbed mine and stared at it like she had never seen a peony before. My fear had been realized. My mother wearing a long white dress had finally caused Katie to have a psychotic breakdown.

“These are completely hideous!” she wailed to the poor woman who didn’t realize she was delivering flowers to a Bridezilla in the midst of a nervous breakdown. “What the hell are these?”

“They’re peonies, and they’re fine,” I said flatly. Katie’s nerves and adrenaline were quickly turning her into a lunatic. Of course, Mom’s dress didn’t help with that either.

“These are awful!” Katie wailed, throwing the bouquet back in the box with such force that random petals actually exploded from the box and showered the floor.

What the hell is happening? I thought.

“I specifically said I wanted cotton candy–colored flowers. What the hell would you call these?” she asked me as she stared at the bouquet.

“I’d call them pink,” I said, my own nerves beginning to fray.

“This is nowhere near the color I asked for. These are raspberry.”

“They’re pink, Katie. No one is going to notice the difference, I promise.” That was true. For the first time in the history of weddings, no one would be looking at the bride because they’d be too busy gawking at her older sister, a shrew dressed head to toe in a color that definitely couldn’t be called pink, standing next to her mother, who was also clad in a wedding dress.

Next time I was so going to elope.

“They’re too pink! They don’t work!” She actually stamped her foot the way she used to when she was little and didn’t get her way. I forgot how much it bugged me.

“Who the hell are you, Goldilocks? You’re getting married, Katie. Who cares if your attendants’ flowers are two shades darker than you thought they’d be?”

“Who would be caught dead carrying flowers this color? They’re vile!”

“This coming from the girl who picked this gem out for me?” I asked, grabbing the sides of my skirt like I was about to curtsy to the captain of the Good Ship Lollipop. “I look like a walking Pepto-Bismol bottle.”

“I thought that color would look nice on you!” she lied.

“This color wouldn’t look nice coating a doughnut and covered with sprinkles!” I screamed, regretting the words the second they escaped my lips.

“I’m not letting you ruin this for me. This is my day,” she said defiantly.

“Are you sure? Then why are you wearing my dress?” Unfortunately, the truce was over.

“Girls, stop it!” our mother screamed as she ran over to keep us from getting into another wrestling match. “Katie, the flowers are fine, relax. Abby, zip it. Not another word out of you. Today is supposed to be the happiest day of my life, and you’re both ruining it for me!” she scolded.

My sister and I finally stopped arguing with each other and turned to stare at her.

God, my family was screwed up.

I made a mental note to remind Aunt Patrice to shove gum in my mother’s mouth when it came time to say the vows to make sure she didn’t shout “I do” and accidentally end up marrying Katie’s fiancé. Thankfully, there was no more time to argue. It was time to walk the plank.