The Best Friend (17 page)

Donny must have called Vickie because she showed up at the dinner, scooting in happily beside Donny. They were becoming hard to take. They giggled and goo-goo eyed each other incessantly and used banal terms of endearment in practically every single thing they said. For instance, they often yelled, “Jinx” in unison when they inevitably said the same thing. It was like watching a pair of eighth graders.

Tony’s family, however, was the most casual she’d ever observed them. They talked openly and freely. Even Tony was a tad less like the Grim Reaper than usual. When Donny stood up unexpectedly, Vickie stared up at him, beaming, as he raised a water glass theatrically.

“I just feel like this is it. The moment we should do this. We were going to wait and make a more formal announcement… but since we’re all here now, and it’s been such an usually great day, I want to add some icing on the cake to finish it. I’ve asked Vickie to marry me and she said yes.”

Leila gasped as she jumped up, already crying and hugging Donny, before grabbing Vickie and including her in the next hug. Leila pulled on her hand gently to look at the diamond ring that was, sure as shit, proudly wrapped around her ring finger.

Gretchen took a long drink of water.
Damn
. Not what she wanted to hear. Wasn’t Donny any smarter than that? Why would he make such a declaration only three months into their relationship?
Holy crap, no.
She could not watch Vickie do this, yet again. And how could Donny believe that being groom number four wasn’t a tad deranged, or probably about to go up in flames very shortly? Why exactly, did he think he would be any different than the other three?

She cringed, dreading what her parents would have to go through. Again. As well as she.

“And Gretchen, you simply have to be my maid of honor.”

She closed her eyes and opened them slowly. Of course. It would be the second time for her. Up to now, Tracy and she traded off every other wedding as to who played the role of the maid of honor. Lucky for her, this time, it was her turn.

“And Tony, will you be my best man?”

“Yeah, of course. I’d be honored.”

Lifting her eyes to Tony, Gretchen made a fake strangling motion. He glanced around, making sure, no doubt, no one in his family could see them. He copied her and then pretended to hang himself. She giggled out loud, but hastily clapped a hand over her mouth. Since when did she giggle like Vickie? She didn’t. And certainly not with Tony Lindstrom. He smiled in response as they continued to share a look. Her smile slowly faded into confusion at the sudden intense heat she could feel sparking between them. She was pulled from it by Vickie, now stuffing her fingers into Gretchen’s face to give her a better look at the ring. Ring number four, in case anyone was losing count. Gretchen sure hadn’t.

Gretchen decided the Lindstroms must have been desperate for any good news after living with Tony for two years, making even Vickie a positive to them. Still, Lord help her, another bridesmaid dress….

“…Christmas Eve.”

Gretchen zoned back in on the tail end of Vickie’s chatter. “Christmas Eve, what?”

Vickie was pink-cheeked with excitement. Nothing turned Vickie on more than planning another wedding. “Our wedding date, silly.”

“What!? You can’t get married on Christmas Eve.”

“Why not?”

“Well, first of all, it’s not fair to make everyone else change their holiday plans around your wedding. And second, that’s only six weeks away. You can’t get married so soon.”

“We can too. When things are right, they’re just right. Aren’t they, Donny?”

He nodded with love-puppy eyes at his fiancée.  “Yes, sweetie.” He shrugged and glanced around. “She always wanted to get married on Christmas Eve by candlelight.”

Gretchen bit her tongue to keep from pointing out she’d already had
three weddings
, and maybe we didn’t have to recreate every single childhood fantasy she could dream up next.

“Yeah, and it’s my wedding day; people should just be happy to come.”

“But Tracy’s girls don’t want to spend Christmas Eve at your wedding.”

“Oh, they will too. It’s not all about them.”

Or Vickie. It should not have been all about Vickie. But Gretchen didn’t say it. “But—”

“But whatever you guys want.” Tony cut her off. She glanced up sharply, frowning in scorn. How dare he interrupt her? Or say that to her? Agreeing to sacrificing her Christmas celebration to go to another pointless wedding for her spoiled sister. Culminating into an even less pointless marriage. She was nearly sputtering with pent-up frustration. Tony was taking Vickie’s side? How dare he? Gretchen turned halfway in her seat so she could not hear anymore or have further eye contact with him. She didn’t talk to him for the rest of the frustrating meal. Now, of course, the dinner was not about Tony’s near breakthrough, or his exquisite words, but about Vickie’s stupid, fourth wedding.

Everyone had to hug and kiss Vickie multiple times just to get away from her, since she was so happy. Gretchen stayed off to the side; she was completely done with her sister. She turned to leave, utterly fed up with the stupid proceedings, and only stopped when she heard Tony’s voice calling after her. She was stunned as he strode towards her. Her breath caught in her chest upon seeing the elegant, commanding, respectful figure he cut while crossing the restaurant parking lot. Why was he coming after her?

“Did you forget me?”

“I assumed you’d go home with your parents.”

He didn’t answer, but went around her and waited by her still locked passenger door.
Huh.
Apparently, he intended to come with her, although she couldn’t see why. He didn’t seem to like her particularly. The rides were usually silent, long, and nerve-wracking.

She unlocked the door, feeling tired of the drama and being treated like a doormat, or as Vickie’s trusty keeper.

She nearly peeled out of the parking spot, she was so pissed off.

She had nothing to say to Tony and was sick of driving him around in silence, which had become almost like a reverence for his sour, foul moods. She resented being Tony’s weekly chore. She’d had it with people like Tony and Vickie always being rude or careless toward her. She halted her car with a loud screech of tires in his driveway, before shifting the gear into park and impatiently waiting for him to get out.

“Mad about something?”

“Damn straight.” She clenched her teeth to keep from adding more.

“What?”

“That! In the restaurant. It’s so stupid. How could Donny be so naive? Or your parents? Or you even?
Oh, whatever you want, Vickie.
Holy crap, I could throw you right out onto the curb.
”

He turned his body and stared at her. “Were you just mimicking
me
?”

“You totally bailed on me with that. I mean, Christmas Eve? Why should they get to ruin my holiday? I love Christmas. We go to my parents’ and have a traditional dinner. Tracy’s kids get to look for Santa as we rush around, putting out all the presents that are from us. We watch the kids open theirs, and then give to each other. I wait all year for it. And now I get to look forward to the fourth,
do you hear me?
the
fourth
wedding of Vickie’s. So how dare you speak up and over me, as I tried to point out, and quite rationally, I should add, exactly why she should not have done that. Someone has to teach her, at some point, she can’t just do whatever she wants, whenever she wants.” Gretchen felt humiliated when her tears started falling down her cheeks. She sniffed, and pushed against her eye sockets to try and stem the flow. It was just so frustrating. She was so weary of Vickie. For her entire life, Vickie got whatever she wanted, and Gretchen was supposed to go along with it, no matter what. No matter how it affected or influenced her. No matter how unfair it was. No matter how it deprived Gretchen of her own desires and needs.

Tony’s mouth dropped open, so Gretchen turned and gripped the steering wheel.

“Uh. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I…”

She pushed at her eyeballs. “I’m not crying because of you!”

He slammed his lips together and she sneered. He was so clueless. He could do and say whatever rude things he chose to her, but if she dared to react, just once, to one of his barbs, he’s stricken speechless? She suddenly stiffened, before yanking the gear shift and backing out of the driveway, albeit with a screech of tires and the jerking of her car as it switched gears.

“Where are you going? I mean, don’t you want to be alone or something?” He seemed uncomfortable in the seat, showing obvious unease over her strangely erratic behavior and ever flowing tears. She couldn’t help it now. She’d had enough. Her entire life she’d always done everything exactly right. Every little damn thing was done in accordance to what society, her parents, her sisters, and even what Will wanted or expected from her. Will thought it was her job even now to do something about Tony. He flew in for a few days, and called occasionally… but he didn’t have to encounter Tony’s rudeness and indifference every day. She wasn’t fixing Tony. No, but Will expected her to do that for him, all the while, grinning and bearing Tony’s frosty personality.

And now Vickie. Again. Her entire life had also been in service to Vickie’s whims and demands. Her parents could never say no to their youngest, beautiful, spoiled brat daughter. Never. Not once. They expected Gretchen to understand because she was the oldest and already had her shit together. Always. She was practically born with her shit together. She was one of those people who never screwed up, never doubted who or what she was, and always knew what she wanted from life.

If everyone else could just manage to get their shit together, she could happily exist and keep hers together. But no one else ever did. And that’s not all: they thought it was their right to screw up all the time. People like Vickie who never once felt embarrassed that,
Gee, her fourth wedding?
Maybe she shouldn’t have interfered with other people’s lives, since it
was
her
fourth
.

And what about Tony Lindstrom? He who thought that because of his own tragic circumstances, he no longer had to participate in life, or show common courtesy, like saying hello to others. Or thank you. Or just being polite. She was sick and tired of being the sole person who acted exactly how she was supposed to.  How standard decency insisted that people should act. It wasn’t rocket science, but simply, behavior modification.

Wisely, Tony said nothing else. His right hand gripped the handle above his door and he periodically glanced at her, seeming to wonder if perhaps she temporarily lost touch with reality sometime between driving from the restaurant to his house.

She pulled the car to a halt right in front of her condo. He glanced up, then all around. She ducked out of the car, slamming her door and stomping through the lobby entrance toward the elevator. He came up behind her, but she could sense his hesitancy, as if he wasn’t sure if he should follow her.

The elevator dinged open and she stomped into it. He leaned against the opposite side. She stared hard at the closed doors as they rode up to the fifth floor. Finally, it dinged and she marched straight to her front door. After deftly unlocking the door, they went inside.

Tony gently shut her front door and turned, but stood barely inside, taking in her condo. The door had its own small entry, and the rest of the condo, all the way to the panoramic windows, was visible.

“This is your place, I take it?’

It galled her suddenly that he’d never once, not in the three months since they reconnected, wondered about her life. Or who she was now. Or where she lived, or the kinds of things she chose for recreation. He never even cared. It was all about him and what he suffered and couldn’t do anymore. Why didn’t he have any interest in
her?

“It is. Not that you once ever wondered where I lived or relaxed, or even that I still breathed.” Her tone was undeniably tight and snide.

“O-o-o-okay,” he said drawing out the word. Stepping into the living room, he stared out the picture windows. “Nice view.”

“Yes. It is. It’s a nice condo. I bought it with my own money, the same year I divorced Will. I did it with money I earned all on my own, and from my share of the practice. I didn’t get help with it from anyone. Not Will. Or my parents. Or some other guy.”

He raised one eyebrow, which drove her nuts. His disdain was so clear to her then. “And this has to do with your sister and Donny? How?”

She flipped around on her heel and marched away, slamming her bedroom door shut. After flinging all kinds of crap around in her closet, she found what she sought. She finally came back to Tony, holding the three dresses, the ones that she deplored the most, in her hand.

Throwing two of them on the couch, she held one over her. “This is bridesmaid dress number one, when Vickie married a really nice boy she went to high school with. Someone like you
used
to be. She screwed him over, cheated on him, and he paid her alimony. Do you notice anything about these dresses?”

His focus darted from scanning her body to studying the other two dresses. He finally lifted his shoulders. “Sorry, but most women’s fashions are lost on me.”

She nearly screamed in frustration. “They’re
ugly!
Any idiot could see that. Brown, to this strange shade of puke-green, to freaking teal? I mean, no adult woman wears freaking bows on her waist, or like this one here that folds right over my ass and makes it look twice as big. And she does that on purpose. Vickie picks the ugliest dresses in the most putrid colors she can find so that she looks all the more beautiful. Because God knows, she’s the most beautiful, charming girl. I mean, who could resist her? And I paid for all of these. Every single one of these, was my own special purchase. Vickie who has never had more than twenty dollars at a time, chooses the ugliest, least flattering dresses for me to buy, usually in excess of five hundred dollars. And guess what? Now I get to do it all over again.”

Tony’s mouth twitched and she saw it. He was amused by her outrage. She threw the offensive brown dress on the floor and was ready to nearly stomp on it with her foot. “Don’t laugh at me.”