by Jessica Knoll
The wedding was going to be beautiful. Elegant, tasteful,
timeless. As understated as a wedding at The Pierre could be.
“Classic, classic, classic, “ I’d drilled into my wedding
planner, Lisa-Howard. Not Lisa, Lisa-Howard,
a woman who wore no less than three Cartier Love bracelets on her left wrist to
the gym. I highly doubted Lisa-Howard’s capability to pull off classic, but
Constance promised she was the best and Constance knows what the hell she’s
doing.
I thought the whole idea of a wedding party was juvenile and
silly, but when I said as much to Biz she appeared so crestfallen that I’d
relented and made her my maid of honor.
“Maybe I’ll be matron
of honor by the time the wedding rolls around,” she’d said, slyly. She was back
on with Brad again, and girl had a fever and the only cure was three carats on
her left ring finger. She wanted five, like me, but Brad was an associate at a
mid level firm. Only good for three.
“You’re not a matron if you’re only engaged,” I pointed out.
“You’d have to get married before me for that to be the case.”
Biz cocked her head and considered what I’d said. “Oh yeah.
I guess you’re right.” She perked up again when she asked if Brad could escort
her down the aisle even though I was probably pairing the bridesmaids and groomsmen
according to height, and that would mean she was stuck with Peter’s sixteen
year old cousin who hadn’t had his growth spurt yet. Brad was a groomsman. Izzy
was dating someone in the wedding party too. We were a weird, incestuous group
and everyone loved it and I sure pretended to.
“You’ll have to take it up with Lisa-Howard,” I told her,
and Biz groaned. No fucking way was Lisa-Howard compromising an aesthetically
pleasing ascending order of height so Biz could exit the ceremony with her
boyfriend on her arm.
I approached my wedding somewhat mechanically, saying and
doing all the right things, smiling and assuring anyone who asked how excited I was for December
16th. I had made a deal with myself. I was allowed
three months to mourn Campbell. Exactly the amount of time from when I saw him
last to the moment I said, “I do.” I had never really taken the time to find
closure, because that faint hope that we might one day end up together flamed
in me every so often, like a lightening bug blinking on and off all through out
the summer.
That hope had to die, and dying took time. Time I had never
allotted before. I would do it now. My wedding would be something of a rebirth,
and beyond that, a hope began to swell for something else, something I could
love more than I ever did Campbell.
A baby.
I know what you’re thinking—this cold bitch should not be
allowed to procreate. As a general rule, I despise kids, especially the ones in
my building who pound all the buttons in the elevator until they light up like
a goddamn Christmas tree.
But it would be different with my baby. In my mind, my baby
already existed, a cherubic blob giggling on a cloud, waiting for me to pluck
her from the ether. (My baby is obviously a girl.) This feeling, like she
already existed and I didn’t yet have her, was excruciating; the fear that
someone else may get to her before I did acute. I needed her now. A baby, to me, was a finish line, a
place where I would at last find purpose in my life. What else, who else could give it to me better than
a tiny bundle of my own replicated cells? Sometimes I think my mother, who
could never show me love and affection as easily as I could her, had missed the
mothering gene and so I had inherited it twofold. The only way I knew to
describe this maternal desire was feral.
And, as we do when something means a lot to us, we don’t
talk about it very much. No one—not Biz, not Peter, not Campbell—knew the
extent to which I yearned for a baby. Of course Peter and I had had The Talk,
had agreed we wanted kids, and soon, but I played it off casually. Oh yeah,
kids could be cute! I was afraid to admit how much I wanted them. Afraid that if
I said it out loud to anyone that the universe would snatch the opportunity
away from me, just because it knew how much it would hurt. I used to go to bed
every night thanking my lucky stars for my brother, Thayer, and look how that
fucking turned out.
So I guess you could say I was looking forward to my
wedding, in that it was a means to an end. Everyone else interpreted my
enthusiasm for the big day as confirmation that I was head over heels in love
with Peter, and that was fine by me.
The morning of my wedding, I woke up with one goal, and one
goal only. To get a head start on cooking this little sucker. I was staying in
the bridal suite at The Pierre, Peter one floor above me. I’d gone off birth
control the month before in anticipation of this very moment, but Peter and I
had been using condoms ever since. I wanted to be pregnant very badly, but
vanity still won out. No way was I going to walk down the aisle with even the teensiest bit of bloat.
I went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and threw on the
plush hotel robe. When I opened the door, I found Biz rubbing her eyes. She had
insisted that part of her maid of honor duties included spending the night with
me. We had raided the mini bar (well, she had raided the mini bar. I had an
unforgiving sheer satin gown to slip into the next day.) and stayed up late
watching movies.
“What time is it?” Biz yawned.
“Almost 8,” I told her.
“Why are you up?” she groaned, and I cocked an eyebrow at
her.
Biz sat up in bed once she translated. “That’s bad luck,”
she said, serious as I’d ever seen her.
“Only if he can’t get me off,” I said, knotting my robe at
my waist. “And that’s never a problem.” At least that much was true—I was
definitely marrying a man who knew how to operate my equipment, for the most
part.
“Elizabeth,” Biz said, “I really don’t think that’s a"—
“Be back in ten!” I said, cheerfully, on my way out the door.
Out in the hallway, I decided to take the stairs, lest I run
into anyone on the elevator in nothing but a robe and slippers. I was just
about to put my shoulder into the door when it swung open. I let out a little
yelp, surprised. I settled down when I realized I recognized the person on the
other side of the door.
“Izzy,” I breathed. “What the hell are you doing?”
There was a beat before she answered me. “What do you think
I’m doing?” she said, parroting the question back at me. Classic stalling move.
“I’m here for hair and make-up!” she said, a sort of duh inflection in her voice. The wedding
party was supposed to be in my room, hair wet and faces scrubbed, at 9am. She
was almost an hour early.
“Yeah but what are
you doing in the stairwell?”
“The elevator was taking forever,” she said.
“So you just walked up ten flights?”
Izzy grinned. “Burn off those last few calories for the bridesmaid
dress!” Now she looked me over. “What are you
doing?”
“Biz is in the room,” I told her, ignoring her question. I
didn’t owe her an explanation. “She’ll let you in.”
I brushed past her and started up the flight of stairs to
Peter’s floor, trying to ignore the nagging voice in my head telling me that
something wasn’t right.
By the time I got to the top, I realized what it was.
I had climbed a single flight of stairs, and I was already
breathing like a fat kid a minute into The President’s Challenge. There was
even a fine film of sweat on my upper lip.
Izzy had supposedly climbed ten flights of stairs and yet she
hadn’t been out of breath or flustered in the least. With sickening clarity, I
realized that was because she hadn’t been coming up. She had been coming down.
Thanks for the note, have a good trip!
ReplyDeleteIf you're flying back to LGA ... Good luck!!
ReplyDeleteOoooh this is getting good!!!
ReplyDeleteI hope for Izzy's sake that all of the groomsmen were staying on the same floor as Peter... du du du dummmmmmm
ReplyDeleteOhhhhh shit
ReplyDeleteCan't wait to find out what happens next week!!
ReplyDeleteCan someone refresh my memory who is Izzy?
ReplyDeleteI believe that was her friend that hosted the party and invited Campbell because she was interested him.
DeleteThank you. I remember now
DeleteLove it!
ReplyDeletehttp://washingtontoflorida.blogspot.com/
Hey, maybe Peter will do anything to anyone to be with Izzy. It could be love.
ReplyDelete-_-
Wow I didn't want Peter with josie, I always thought something was off, if he's been a cheater for so long..... (not that Elisabeth was faithful )
ReplyDeleteSeriously!??! We have to wait a full week for each blog post and I found myself scrolling to the bottom of the page, looking for the rest of this week's entry. I can appreciate building anticipation, but this is just ridiculous.
ReplyDeleteI love this post and this blog, look forward to it every week. But I agree I wish it was a little bit longer to satisfy that weekly fix.
ReplyDeleteCheck out my story :) https://waitingontheendoftheworld.wordpress.com
ReplyDeletecek
ReplyDeleteInfo Yang Bermangfaat gan kami tunggu kunjungan nya di web kami !!!
ReplyDeleteJUAL VIMAX JITU
VIMAX
VIMAX ASLI
VIMAX PILLS
OBAT PEMBESAR PENIS
PEMBESAR PENIS
Alat Pembesar Vital Penis
Perapat Obat Chien Chin
Kondom Sex Getar
Obat Perangsang Serbuk
Obat Perangsang Cair
Penghilang Tato Cair
Obat Penggemuk
Peninggi Badan
Pembesar Payudara
Obat Pelangsing Badan
Obat Kesehatan Herbal
Minyak Pembesar Penis
Cream Pembesar Payudara
Kosmetik Kecantikan
Obat Bio Hair
Obat Kuat Sex
ARAB SEX MOVIES
ReplyDeleteسكس محارم
سكس ابن وامه واخته
سكس محارم مع مرات اخوه
سكس مع مرات ابوه
سكس مع امه
سكس ام وصبي
سكس مع حماتي
سكس مع العمة
اب ينيك بنته
سكس ام وبنتها
اخ ينيك اخته المطلقه
سكس محارم
سكس ابن وامه واخته
سكس محارم مع مرات اخوه
سكس مع مرات ابوه
سكس مع امه
سكس ام وصبي
سكس مع حماتي
سكس مع العمة
اب ينيك بنته
سكس ام وبنتها
اخ ينيك اخته المطلقه
ReplyDeleteقصص سكس و صور نيك
قصص سكس و نيك
صور سكس و نيك
نيك اختي .... و لا اروع
قبول اختي سهام في الجامعة /محارم
الولد الشقى واخته وهى نايمه (احلى سكس )
عهد و اخيها انس قصة اخ واخته فى بلاد الغربة
هيثم وريم اختة
قصة الجناينى وست البيت
قصة اللص الذي سرق البيت واغتصب المرأه المتزوجه
ناك حبيبته المتزوجه فوق السطح
قصص سكس و صور نيك
قصص سكس و نيك
صور سكس و نيك
نيك اختي .... و لا اروع
قبول اختي سهام في الجامعة /محارم
الولد الشقى واخته وهى نايمه (احلى سكس )
عهد و اخيها انس قصة اخ واخته فى بلاد الغربة
هيثم وريم اختة
قصة الجناينى وست البيت
قصة اللص الذي سرق البيت واغتصب المرأه المتزوجه
ناك حبيبته المتزوجه فوق السطح
قصص سكس و صور نيك
قصص سكس و نيك
صور سكس و نيك
نيك اختي .... و لا اروع
قبول اختي سهام في الجامعة /محارم
الولد الشقى واخته وهى نايمه (احلى سكس )
عهد و اخيها انس قصة اخ واخته فى بلاد الغربة
هيثم وريم اختة
قصة الجناينى وست البيت
قصة اللص الذي سرق البيت واغتصب المرأه المتزوجه
ناك حبيبته المتزوجه فوق السطح