The Impostor, A Love Story (22 page)

Toilet paper dangled from my shoe. I shook my
foot to force it off, but I was quite undignified and my
performance only made them laugh louder. I finally was able to
dismantle the pesky critter and attempt to recover some
dignity.

Chris looked at his watch. “I have a car
coming, but you will probably get there faster if you take one of
the cabs that are already waiting outside. You should make it to
the reception just in time.”

“Are you sure you all don’t want to
come?”

“I won’t crash the wedding.”

“I’m really nervous. He’s going to be so
upset I was late.”

Chris put his arm around me, “Nicole, he
might be upset at first, but don’t leave. Have a drink or two and
be your beautiful self. And if you need to leave, leave with grace.
You are a beautiful girl and you’re even more beautiful on the
inside. He would be a fool not to forgive you.”

A tear welled up in my eye. I put my head on
his shoulder and gave him a hug and held out my arms for Emily to
join us in a group hug.

As we walked over to a curb, he hailed a cab
for me and reminded me, “Make an entrance and make an exit, and if
he’s a jerk, don’t leave right away. Remember no falling, however,
and no dragging around a toilet paper friend as a companion.” He
opened the door to the cab for me, and off I went. Handing the
driver the address for the reception hall, I made an attempt to put
my makeup on using the tiny passenger mirror in the front seat.

I whispered a silent prayer in the car. When
we arrived at the hall, I was so anxious. I sat in the cab for what
seemed an eternity, intimidated by the elegant crowd of people I
could see through pavilion windows in the ballroom. Everyone looked
so perfect. Only a few hours earlier, I was curled up on the
airport floor with two black eyes. “Breathe,” I accidently said out
loud.

“What?” The driver responded in a thick
accent. He was waiting patiently; I guess he thought I was talking
to him. “I sorry, Miss, but I have to turn back meter on if you
don’t get out.”

“I’m sorry.” I made my way out of the taxi
and checked my appearance in the reflection of the cab window. I
waited on the street corner, petrified by the possible outcome.
“Breathe,” I reminded myself. I felt a little nauseous. I knew he
was going to reject me, and I don’t handle rejection well. With
Ronald, his disappointment was usually accompanied by bruises.
Dylan was not Ronald, I reminded myself. I realized part of my
panic was from the years I had spent with a man who made me feel
like I was not worthy to be loved.

“Breathe.” I took a deep breath in, hoping to
calm some of my apprehension. I began making my way toward the door
only because if I stayed outside, I’d freeze to death. But I
seriously considered that option. Death. Utter embarrassment.
Death. Humiliation. Freezing to death. Total rejection.

My heartbeat haunted me like an Edger Allan
Poe poem.

I walked toward the elegant
crowd of people I saw through the open doorway. The sound of
chatter and laughter washed over me when I got to the entrance. I
took a deep breath in
again,
digging
for my invitation in my
purse.

“Your name, madam?” the
gentleman at the door questioned. Maybe I wouldn’t be on the list.
That would save my torment. I wouldn’t have to go in.

“Nicole. Nicole
Carlisle.”

“Ms. Carlisle, you will be
seated at table number two.” I forgot about that whole seating
arrangement thing. I couldn’t join him at a table, not until I knew
if he would forgive me or not. I strolled to the bar as if I wasn’t
petrified. There was no way I’d be stationed like a sitting
duck—stuck at the table for him to ignore.

“Oh, you decided to join us
did you?” Justin, the lead singer of the band walked up behind me.
“
Dylan
is a little upset, I have to say.”
He nodded toward the corner of the room. I peeked over at Dylan,
who stood there talking to a beautiful blonde. “It looks like
you’ve already been replaced.”

She was perfect, like he
was. I was too late. A tear started to develop in my eye, but I
quickly remembered what Chris said.
Don’t
leave right away
.

Keep torturing
yourself
, I thought. I decided to stay but
refused to sit at the table and look stupid. I peeked over at him
for a moment. I wouldn’t interrupt his conversation, but perhaps he
would give me a sign—a nod or a gesture inviting me over. His eyes
met mine. They were cold, unresponsive. He saw me and turned back
to the beautiful lady, ignoring the plea in my eyes.
I can’t let this get to me
. No one could know I was on the verge of tears.

I made small talk with the
people standing by the bar.

“Did you see the
cake?”

“It’s beautiful, and I love
the wedding sculpture on top! They had an artist from Texas custom
make it.”

“It’s perfect! She did a
great job at capturing their personalities, didn't she? I love how
he is carrying her across the threshold!”

“The artist’s name is
Elizabeth Bonura. I heard she even made a life-size cake sculpture
of the bride.”

“What a neat idea. I’ll
have to get her contact information. My daughter is getting married
in June.”

I had never met the wedding
couple before, but the playfulness in the figure on top of the cake
made me wish I had.

I glanced back over at
Dylan. He was still talking to that stupid blonde. I attempted to
ignore it.
Breathe
, I had to keep reminding
myself. I wanted to bolt out of there, but I heard Chris’s voice,
and it convinced me to stay. Finally, after an eternity, dinner was
over.

The wedding couple made
their way to the dance floor. Stunning. Dancing runs in the family.
Brenda was so radiant. She had
Dylan
’s
eyes. If I had just gotten there earlier, I would have seen the
magic of them exchanging vows.
I love
weddings
.

My eyes snuck over to Dylan
. He looked so enticing. I bit my lower lip. Extremely
dashing. He was so refined, so different than
his sex-symbol persona on stage. Even with all his muscles
covered, he was irresistible. Irresistible and, I reminded myself,
unattainable.

Before long, it was time
for the bouquet toss.

“All the single women to
the dance floor,” the DJ announced. I stood at my little spot by
the bar.

“Are you married?” the
bartender asked me.

“No, I’m not. Do I have a
label plastered on my forehead that says ‘alone, abandoned old
maid’ or something?” I said as a snide remark.

He laughed. “No, you
don’t, but I believe they are calling you to the dance
floor.”

“I’ll pass,” I said, but
then realized I was doing everything I was not supposed to be
doing. I was the little loser girl at the bar. And I
decided,
What the hell, let me pretend I’m
having fun
.
Dylan
sure was. There wasn’t a moment he wasn’t surrounded by a
beautiful woman.

I made my way to the dance
floor. The DJ played the music. Then he would quickly stop it,
teasing the crowd of screaming girls I was now a part of. Finally,
the bride threw the bouquet. The
mob of
women somehow parted like the Red Sea, and in slow motion, the
bouquet came closer and closer until it was in my arms.
What the hell just
happened
? I thought to myself. Someone
lifted my hand as if to say congratulations.

I walked back to the safety
of the bar and the bartender gave me a secret wink.

“Well, maybe you won’t be
an old maid after all,” he laughed.

All of the gentlemen
swarmed to the dance floor. It was time for the garter toss.
Dylan
stood in the crowd. Secretly I hoped
Dylan
would catch it. After a few pauses in the
music to fake out the congregation of guys, the garter was flung
through the air.
Dylan
jumped as if in a
baseball game. But Trevor, another one of the guys from Justin’s
band, ended up getting it.

Oh
shit
, the thought came to my mind. He
is now going to have to put the garter up my thigh.

“Damn,” I said under my
breath. I was pulled from the safety of the bar to a chair in the
middle of the dance floor. I could see
Dylan
on the side of the room talking to Trevor—I assumed telling
him I was now free game.

A stripper song began to
play as Trevor came to the floor. He was such a ham.

“Now remember, every inch
above the knee is another year of happiness for the bride and
groom,” the DJ trumpeted.

Trevor danced in front of
me, giving me my own personal lap dance. The crowd went wild as I
sat there blushing, trying to look away. Without hesitation, he
fell to his knees with the garter in his teeth ready to put it on
me that way.

“No, no, no . . .” My face
got warm and I shook my head. Even in the spirit of fun, even to
get back at
Dylan
for avoiding me all
night, I wouldn’t let him stick his head up my dress.

Dramatically disappointed,
he pouted at the crowd. A unanimous
awe
came from the spectators.
Taking the garter in his hands, he stretched it over my heel and
slowly slid it up my calf as if he were seducing me. Ever so
slowly, he allowed the crowd to egg him on as he sensually
proceeded up towards my knee.

“Now remember every inch
above the knee is another year of happiness for the bride and
groom,” the DJ repeated. And soon his hands slid over my knee and
began up my thigh. I was just about to stop him, when
Dylan
darted out of the crowd and grabbed his
hands.

“That is enough,” he gave
us a cold stare. He then turned to the crowd, gave them a fake
grin, and applauded for us. He continued to applaud as he walked
off the dance floor.

Trevor gave me a wink.
“What a party pooper.” Then he leaned in and whispered, “Call me. I
will help you get over him.”

“I’m sure you could. That
was quite a performance,” I joked, then searched the crowd for
Dylan. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to follow Dylan like
a lost puppy, but I wanted to talk to him so bad. If he wanted to
come over, he would have. He was the one who was mad.

I went to my sacred place
by the bar and was thinking it was probably about time for me to go
home, when I saw the bride and groom alone in a corner and decided
to say congratulations and goodbye.

“You’re Nicole?” Brenda
asked. “It’s nice to meet you. You’re as beautiful as he said you’d
be. He really likes you Nicole. Thank you for coming,” Brenda
smiled at me and I blushed. The couple gave me a hug and then were
swamped by other guests.

He talked to her about
me?

A refined woman soon walked
over to me. “You must be Nicole.”

“Yes, I am. And you
are?”

“I am Dylan’s
mother.”

I felt so stupid. I should
have known that. I should have asked someone. “Congratulations on
your daughter’s wedding. She is a beautiful bride.”

She just nodded. “So
Nicole, what do you do for a living?”

Oh great. Interrogation
time
. How was I supposed to tell this
elite woman that her prince of a son was dating a
waitress?

“Well,” I stalled, biting
my lip.

“That is what I thought.”
She gave me a judgmental glare. “Listen dear, I will be frank. I
don’t appreciate you making my son wait on his sister’s wedding
day; you should have more respect for him than that.”

“I missed my flight. I’m
truly sorry.”

“I have to tell you, he has
women who are not just looking for a free ride, who are better
educated and better suited for his attention.”

I just stood there with my
mouth open for a moment. What was I to say to that?
Breathe, Nicole,
breathe
.

“I’m sorry you feel that
way,” I began. “I really am not standing in the way of anything. I
didn’t fawn after him if that is what you are implying. He pursued
me. I’m sorry if I do not meet your standards. If you’ll excuse
me.” I pushed my way past her before she could see the stupid tear
welling up in the corner of my eye.

Oh my god, what a bitch.
It’s definitely time for me to go
. I
walked away quickly, not looking back.

Making my way back to
Trevor, I asked him to give
Dylan
a
message. “Please tell Dylan I’m sorry. I missed my flight. I’m
going to leave now; I have outstayed my welcome. Could you give him
this? Please be careful with it.” I handed him the envelope with
the money Dylan had given me as well as the gift invoice for
Jessica’s bedroom set. “Please make sure he gets this. Tell him
I’ll pay him back for the cab.”

“I will. Do you need a ride
or anything? Let me get my keys. You must need a ride.”

“No. I’ll be fine.” I held
back the tears. Chris and Emily would have been proud of
me.