The Bridesmaid (12 page)

“Abby, listen—”

“No! All I’ve done for the past few weeks is plan your wedding!” Abby said. “You swore I wasn’t going to have to do anything, but instead every single second of my free time has been taken up with songs and gifts and favors and bubbles and invitations and gowns. And the
one
thing I
really
cared about was that I got to pick my own dress. You promised me I could. God, Carol, can’t you think about anyone other than yourself for five seconds?”

Carol looked as if she had been slapped. There was a moment of silence that only made Abby fume. Was it so insane of her to expect her sister to make good on
one
promise? Carol was leaving her in less than three weeks to go off and live on the other side of the country with a perfect stranger.
And forever after
everything would be completely and totally different.
Couldn’t she at least give Abby this one thing?

“Abby, look, I think you’re forgetting that this is your sister’s wedding,” Tessa said calmly, stepping forward. “It’s not unreasonable of her to ask you to wear what she wants.”

Abby was mortified to the core. It was the first time Tessa had ever said anything remotely condescending in the four years she’d known her. This wedding was turning everyone into someone else.

“You wear it,” Abby said, backing toward the door. “That dress is not coming anywhere near me.”

“Abby!” Carol said.

“You promised me,” Abby said, glaring at her. “But clearly that doesn’t mean anything to you anymore.”

“Abby! We’re supposed to talk about the shower!” Missy called after her.

But Abby just started running, down the stairs and out the door. Obviously Carol didn’t value her opinion or her feelings. If Tessa and Missy were so important that they got to be in on wardrobe decisions while Abby was left out, then they could plan the shower without her as well. Let them deal with the Bridezilla for a while.

“I can’t believe you did that,” Carol said as she drove the van through the downtown shopping area on Saturday afternoon. She kept looking at Abby accusingly, then back at the road, clearly fighting between wanting to yell at Abby and wanting to keep them from slamming into any pedestrians. “I mentioned to Tessa and Missy last week that I really liked those dresses, but I never told them to go out and
buy
them.”

“But you want me to wear it, right?” Abby replied. “You want me, a person who cringes every time I put on my stupid school uniform pleats, to wear that big-skirted, strapless, shiny . . . thing
.
”

“So what if I do? Is that so wrong? It’s one day, Abby!
My
day!”

“I get it, all right! It’s all about Carol!” Abby shouted back. “But you promised me I could wear what I wanted to wear.”

“Oh my God! You with the promises!” Carol replied. “Do you have any idea how childish you sound?”

Abby’s mouth dropped open. “I’m childish? For what? For expecting you not to lie to me? Besides, you’re the one walking around acting like a queen just because some guy asked you to marry him.”

“Tucker is not just some guy,” Carol said, suddenly sounding eerily calm. “He’s the most wonderful man in the world.”

Abby’s stomach dropped to her feet.
I have to tell
her,
Abby thought. And she suddenly felt as if she was about to vomit. They drove along in tense silence. Abby kept willing herself to speak, to open her mouth and tell Carol that the most wonderful man in the world might just be the biggest jerk ever.

“Carol,” Abby started. “Actually, I—”

Without warning Carol slammed on the brakes. And she turned to Abby with a look on her face unlike anything Abby had ever seen before. Her eyes were cold and hard. She opened her mouth and spoke with a voice that was a cross between a whisper and a scream. “Abigail. I have listened to you act like a spoiled brat ever since I first told you my happy news. I’m sorry if my wedding is a nuisance for you, but if you say one more word, I mean even
one more word,
to try and ruin this for me, I will never
ever
forgive you.” Carol was clenching the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles were white.

Abby felt her fingers tingling and her head pounding. “Carol—”

“And
that
is a promise I intend to keep.” Abby had no idea what to say. She wanted to continue, but she didn’t know how she could. So she sat there in miserable silence. After a few minutes Carol turned to her again, her voice softened.

“Look, I’m sorry. But Tucker’s meeting us here after he’s done at the tux place and I really don’t want him to see you acting like this,” Carol said.

“Oh really? So then what
exactly
do you want him to see me acting like?” Abby replied. She suddenly felt like she was about to cry. She clenched her teeth and blinked hard.

“This is insane, Abby,” Carol said. She hit the gas and zoomed into the parking lot in front of Spencer’s Bakery. “For once, baby sister, all the attention is on me, and you can’t take it.”

Abby blinked. “Wait a minute, what? Are you saying I’m
jealous
?”

“Hey! You said it, not me!” Carol said.

“That doesn’t even make any sense!” Abby replied.

“Oh please!” Carol shrieked. “It’s so obvious what this is all about. You’re the baby! You’ve always been the focus of our family. Now it’s my turn and you don’t know what to do with yourself.”

“You are soooooo out of line right now,” Abby said. “And I swear if you call me baby one more time—”

“All I’m saying is this day is going to be mine. Mine, mine, mine,” Carol said. “And you’d better accept that soon or we’re all gonna be pretty miserable.”

Carol got out of the van and slammed the door extra hard. Abby had to sit there for a moment to catch her breath and calm herself. Carol had clearly lost her mind. Had she really just threatened to never speak to Abby again, gotten half-over it a second later and then a second after that uttered the words “mine, mine, mine”? It was official. The girl was a Bridezilla.

“If I hear the word
I
come out of her mouth one more time today, I will not be responsible for my actions,” Abby muttered, climbing out of the van. She straightened her denim jacket, swung her hair behind her shoulders and walked into the bakery.

“Abigail! How are you?” Noah’s father, Dominic, greeted her from behind the counter. He was a tall man with salt-and-pepper hair and huge forearms, his face deeply tan and very wrinkled. But even though he looked imposing, his eyes were always bright and he was always ready with a smile, like today. He was loading muffins into a box for a customer as she walked in. “Noah and Carol went to the back with your sister’s fella. Go ahead,” he told her.

“Thanks, Mr. Spencer,” Abby said as she slipped behind the counter.

The bakery kitchen was bustling, getting ready for a busy Sunday morning. Through the haze of flour, Abby saw Carol, Tucker and Noah sitting at the table in the back corner. There was a tray of miniature cakes and full-size slices between them. Abby walked over and plopped into the free chair, slumping down until her butt hung off the edge.

She was so confused and upset she didn’t even remember to obsess about the he-loves-me, he-loves-me-not situation. Right now, all wedding-related people were the enemy—Noah included.

“Abby! You’re looking especially grumpy today,” Noah said brightly.

“Trust me. You don’t want to start with her,” Carol said.

I’m going to kill her,
Abby thought. Tucker shot her a concerned “What’s wrong?” look. Abby looked away as if she hadn’t noticed.

“Can we just get started, Noah?” Carol asked, ignoring her.

“All right then!” Noah said. “We have a bunch of different examples here, not that you guys haven’t tasted all our cakes in the past, but any excuse for a tasting, right?”

“They all look awesome,” Tucker said. “What’s that one?”

“That’s a basic vanilla cake with lemon frosting,” Noah said. “The lemon is very subtle, but it just adds a little something.”

Abby picked up a fork and took a big hunk out of the cake.

“Abby!” Carol said.

But the bite was already gone. Abby swallowed and pulled the fork slowly out of her mouth, making sure she got all the icing.

“Yum!” Abby said with a smile. Over the years the two of them had turned sisterly battling into an art form.

“Pardon my sister. Apparently she’s PMSing,” Carol said.

“Carol!” Abby looked at Noah, mortified. “I am not—”

“Noah, we were thinking about doing carrot cake,” Carol said, cutting Abby off. “You guys make the best. I’ve loved it since I was a kid.”

“We could do that,” Noah said, making a note on his clipboard. “I have a slice here if you want to—”

“Carrot cake?” Abby blurted out. “Carol, no one
likes
carrot cake. It’s
vegetable
cake. You can’t serve vegetables for dessert!”

“Plenty of people like carrot cake, Abby,” Tucker said.

“Like who?”

“Like me!” Carol said. “I like carrot cake.”

There it was. The
I
Abby was waiting for. “Yeah? Well, that’s because you’re a freak!”

“What is wrong with you?” Carol asked, turning in her chair. “This is
my
wedding cake.”

“Me, me, me, my, my, my,” Abby said, shaking her head back and forth. “What is it with brides that they suddenly forget about all the other pronouns? Do they knock them out of your head at the first dress fitting or something?”

Carol’s mouth hung open as she stared at Abby. “Are you saying I’m
selfish
?”

“If the crinoline fits,” Abby said, folding her arms over her chest.

“Um . . . guys?” Tucker said, glancing at Noah. “Let’s calm down a little, here.”

“Abby, come on,” Noah said. “It’s
her
wedding. Besides, I like carrot cake, too. I’d eat it.”

Abby whirled on him. She was so sick of him taking everyone else’s side. Couldn’t he let her be right even just once?

“Oh yeah?” she said, her temper getting the better of her. She picked up the piece of carrot cake, the cream cheese icing smushing between her fingers. “You like it so much? Here!”

Before she even knew what she was doing, she had mashed the entire hunk of cake and icing into his face. Carol gasped. Tucker backed up his chair. Crumbs tumbled down Noah’s shirt and blobs of icing dropped onto the table. Noah licked the cake around his mouth, then pressed his lips together. Abby held her breath. What had she just done?

“You, my friend, are
so
dead,” Noah said.

Abby stood up, knocking her chair over, and then the cake started to fly. Noah picked up a slice of chocolate-on-chocolate and threw it right at her chest, where it exploded. Abby snatched for a piece with meringue filling and it came apart in her hands, giving her double the ammo. As the two of them assaulted each other, Tucker grabbed Carol’s hand and pulled her out of the way, giving Noah room to come around the table. Abby tried to dodge, but Noah was too fast. He grabbed the back of her head and mashed a slice of cannoli cream cake in her face, rubbing it into her cheeks and along her forehead.

Abby laughed and screeched and protested. She reached over blindly and picked up a piece of red velvet cake, then slapped it into the back of Noah’s head with a splat. She worked the icing into his hair with her fingers and Noah groaned in disgust. Abby giggled uncontrollably. All of her frustration about the wedding and her parents and Italy faded away as the two of them cracked up laughing, clinging to each other for fear of letting go and being assaulted again.

“You two have totally lost it,” Carol said.

Then Noah broke off and ran across the kitchen and Abby gave chase, screeching and wielding the last piece of cake.

It was more fun than she’d had in days.

“Stop! Stop stop stop!” Carol shouted at the top of her lungs.

Still laughing, Abby turned around to look at her sister and Tucker. Most of the bakery workers had long since moved out of the line of fire to avoid getting splattered. Carol and Tucker were the only people on their side of the room and Carol’s face was so red and blotchy she might have just run a mile. Her hands were curled into fists down at her sides, like a kid about to throw a tantrum.

“Maybe you just need a piece of cake,” Abby said. And before she knew what was happening, the last piece of cake flew through the air and smacked Carol in the chest.

Noah and Tucker looked shocked. Abby let out a nervous giggle. This was exactly the type of shenanigan her sister normally enjoyed. Food fights, paint fights, splashing fights, pillow fights. When it came to mayhem of this variety, Carol was almost always the instigator. Only now she didn’t look that amused.

“You . . . ,” Carol said slowly, on the verge of total eruption. “You are the worst maid of honor ever!”

Abby’s mouth dropped open slightly. “Carol—”

“Forget it,” Carol said. “Come on, Tucker. Let’s go.”

Then she turned around and stormed out of the kitchen, and Tucker, after shooting Abby an apologetic look, followed. Abby was left with her mouth hanging open, covered in ten kinds of icing.

Slowly, Noah stood up from behind the counter he’d been using for protection. He looked at Abby sympathetically, apologetically—his deep blue eyes uncharacteristically serious. And even though Abby’s insides were tied in guilty knots, something happened within her chest. She looked at Noah and her heart responded. It thumped like it wanted out. Or like it wanted to pull her over to him by force.

Icing was a good look for Noah. A
really
good look.

Noah lifted the corner of his apron and wiped a streak of pink icing from her cheek. Excited tingles ran all down her face, into her neck and straight down to her toes.

“You okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” she said, taking an instinctive step back like she always did when she felt that zip of attraction for him.

Was she just imagining it, or was he looking at her differently? Looking at her like maybe he felt it too? Maybe it was just the glob of white icing across his forehead, but his eyes were
so
blue. And they were staring right at her.