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Authors: Sheila Roberts

Bikini Season (27 page)

BOOK: Bikini Season
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“
Y
ou're going to kill us,” Kizzy protested, bracing her hands on Angela's dashboard.
“Oh, I am not. I was the queen of drag racing when I was in high school.”
“If you don't slow down you're going to wind up the queen of the dead,” said Kizzy. “I didn't go to all this trouble to get healthy to get killed in a car accident.”
“We'll be fine,” Angela assured her, and sailed through an intersection as the light turned red.
“Lord,” Kizzy whimpered. “I don't know what we think we're doing,” she added. “They don't even have a wedding license. This is insane.”
They screeched into the Safeway parking lot, and hopped out. Angela lifted her skirt and began to run, Kizzy hot on her heels. “I hope Erin appreciates what we're doing for her,” Angela called over her shoulder. “I'm going to break an ankle running in these heels.”
“Never mind your ankle. You almost broke my neck driving like a crazy woman,” Kizzy panted.
It was Hawaiian Days, and the checkstand area was awash with tropical greenery, the checkers all wearing Hawaiian print shirts. They found Dan at his checkstand, gaudy in a red one, a fake grass skirt over his jeans, ringing up an old man with a sour expression. Dan's expression wasn't real happy, either.
Angela inserted herself in front of the man. “Dan, you've got to come to the lodge right now.”
“Excuse me, young woman, but you need to go to the end of the line.” The man pointed to a can of chili and said to Dan, “That's on sale, you know.”
“I know, Mr. Borden. It'll show up when we finish ringing you up.”
“Never mind the chili,” Angela cried. “Erin needs a groom!”
Dan scanned another can of chili. “She's got a groom.”
“She's not going to marry him.”
Dan stopped his scanning and stared at her.
“People are waiting here,” said Mr. Borden.
Angela frowned at him. “Can't you see we've got a romantic emergency?” To Dan she said, “What's the matter with you anyway? How could you even think of working when the woman you want is about to marry someone else?”
Dan frowned. “Because she loves him. Not that it's any of your business,” he added.
Angela gestured to her clothes. “Look how I'm dressed. I'm the matron of honor. This is my business.”
Kizzy moved her aside. “You are handling this all wrong.” She put her hands on her hips and went into full lecture mode. “Dan, we know you two both love each other. We've known it since we saw you dancing at Slugfest. You know it, too. This would be a good time to seize the opportunity and admit it.”
“Never mind that. Ring up my groceries,” commanded Mr. Borden, shaking a finger at the food piled up on the conveyer belt.
“Shame on you,” said the old woman waiting in back of him. “Can't you see this is important? Don't you remember what it was like to be in love?”
“Yeah,” put in Angela.
“Bah,” spat the man.
“She's about to dump the groom,” said Angela. “She's got the dress, the party guests, the food, and the band. She needs a wedding. Are you going to man up or not?”
 
 
The pianist was playing softly, ad-libbing since she had now gone through her entire repertoire of prewedding music. The guests were visiting and checking their watches. Gregory, Erin's boss, elbowed his wife and nodded toward the back of the chapel.
She turned and saw the bride marching to the opposite side. Husband and wife exchanged looks. “Odd,” whispered the wife.
Now there went the bride's brother, who was supposed to be giving her away, running after her.
“Very odd,” agreed Gregory.
Other guests had seen it, too. They began to whisper. “Is everything all right? What's going on?”
At the front of the church, the mother of the groom heard the swell of murmuring and looked back over her shoulder, saw nothing, and wondered what was delaying the ceremony. Why hadn't her son and the groomsmen come out yet? Had something gone amiss? It wouldn't surprise her if something had, poorly planned as this had been. And that last-minute change in the menu—it was shocking and ridiculous. This girl was a mistake. She would drain poor Adam, financially and emotionally. But Adam was a grown man and he had made his choice. Still. She sneaked a look at her watch. Twenty minutes late. She tried not to get her hopes up.
 
 
Erin was about to tap on the groom's dressing room door when her brother came up behind her and hissed, “What are you doing? We should have already been walking down the aisle.”
“I have to talk to Adam,” she hissed back.
“You can talk to him all you want at the reception. People are getting antsy.”
“I can't marry Adam.”
“What!”
Erin glared at her brother. “Will you keep it down?”
“Have you gone out of your mind?” he protested.
She shook her head. “This is a mistake. I don't want to spend the rest of my life with Adam.”
Brett looked confused. “I thought he was perfect. Nice guy, doctor, happily-ever-after.”
“I was wrong,” Erin said on a sob. “I was so wrong.”
“Okay, then,” Brett said, and put an arm around her. “Don't cry. We'll work this out. He'll have to understand that you've got to do what's best for you. And if he doesn't I'll beat the crap out of him.”
Poor Adam. This was going to be hard on his pride. But, “It's best for him, too,” she whispered. He never would have been happy with her, not really.
“You go back to your room, sis. I'll tell him,” Brett offered.
Erin shook her head. “You know what Mom always said: if it's your mess, you clean it up.”
Brett studied her. “You sure?”
“I'm sure.” Finally, she was sure of something.
“Okay. If he gives you any grief I'm right here.”
The door opened and there stood Dave, Adam's best man. “Are we ready?” he asked.
“Not quite,” said Erin. “I need to talk to Adam.”
Dave stood aside and motioned her in.
“Alone,” Erin added.
The best man exchanged puzzled looks with the other groomsmen, but they slipped out to stand in the foyer.
“I'm right here,” Brett reminded her, and gave her arm a supportive squeeze.
She nodded, slipped inside, and closed the door after her.
Adam came up to her, took one look at her and grabbed both her arms. “What's wrong?”
Of course she'd still have splotchy skin and red eyes from her crying jag, and her makeup was probably a mess. But that was the outside of her. The inside felt cleansed.
“We can't get married.”
“What? What's happened?”
“I've just realized I can't marry you.”
“Look, if this is about what I said back there at the gazebo I didn't mean it. Really.”
She shook her head. “It's not that. Adam, we're not a match.”
“Of course we are,” he insisted, and pulled her to him. “We love each other.”
She looked up at him and shook her head. “Not really. We just want to.”
He stared at her like she'd lost her mind.
“Think about it. Think about how much we've fought ever since we got engaged.”
“Every couple fights.”
“Before they're even married, when they should be enjoying the happiest time of their life?” She shook her head. “We're not right for each other. And I'd rather admit that now and wreck a party than have to admit it a few years from now and wreck a marriage.” He was still staring at her as if she was speaking another language. “Do you want to spend the rest of your life tripping over my shoes, getting frustrated because I've spent money on something you don't think we need, trying to make me stick to my diet?”
“I was only helping you,” he muttered.
She put a hand to his cheek. “I know. You love to help. You're a natural-born rescuer and you love to be in charge. You'll make a great doctor. But you won't make a great husband, not for me.”
“That's not true,” he protested, gripping her more tightly.
“Yes, I'm afraid it is. I've been using you like a crutch. That's not
a good foundation for a relationship. You needed a true Mrs. Adam. Not an Eve who's going to be letting snakes in the garden,” she added with a wistful smile.
He dropped his arms. “I can't believe you're dumping me.”
“I'm not dumping you. I'm setting you free,” she said. She slipped her engagement ring off her finger and offered it to him. “Keep it for the right girl.”
Looking chagrined, he held out his palm and she dropped the ring into it. “I guess I should tell your uncle that there won't be any ceremony today,” he said stiffly.
She nodded. “Thanks.”
Without another word, he slipped out of the room.
Erin surprised herself by not crying. She had just broken up with the man of her dreams. She should be devastated. Instead, she let out a sigh of relief. She felt lighter, better than she'd felt in months. She couldn't help shaking her head. All that dieting and she'd hardly lost anything. Now, just like that, she'd lost one hundred and seventy pounds. And it felt great.
The door opened. She turned, expecting to see Brett. Instead, she saw Dan, wearing a Hawaiian shirt and jeans.
Her lower lip started to tremble. She held up her naked ring finger. “You wasted a lot of money on fish.”
He didn't say anything. Instead, he took her by the arms and pulled her up to him, and kissed her. And every nerve inside her went off like the Fourth of July.
Zing, zing, zing, zing!
By the time he let her go she felt like a pinball machine. “Oh, Dan,” she cried. “I was so wrong, about so many things. I feel like such a fool.”
He smiled at her and tapped her nose with his finger. “You've been trying to find your way. That's all. Now, come on. We're going to miss the wedding.”
“There is no wedding,” she protested.
“Oh, yes there is,” he said. “And you're not marrying a doctor or a J. Crew fashion model. You're marrying a man who'll spend his last cent to make you happy, and who will love you fat or thin.” He
gave her one more kiss, then said, “Get your bridesmaids back in here and fix your makeup and let's get this show on the road.”
 
 
Now it was getting really interesting. Gregory's wife tapped his thigh and nodded toward the back of the chapel. Here came the groom, marching right up the center aisle, stomping all over the white carpet where the bride was supposed to walk. Behind him came the minister, looking determined. Gregory and his wife gaped at the sight, then at each other. What could have happened?
The groom marched past them and up to his parents. He bent over and whispered something to them. Gregory could see the woman stiffening. “Oh, dear,” he murmured to his wife.
“Exactly,” she murmured back.
The parents of the groom left their seats and traipsed down the center of the aisle, further marring the white carpet, and followed the groom, whose face was now quite red, out of the church.
The minister ran a finger inside his collar and cleared his throat, preparing to make some sort of announcement. As if anyone with a brain couldn't guess what it was.
But now, what was this? Here came a woman running up, God help us, the center aisle. Ah, well, it probably wasn't going to be used anyway. She tugged on the man's coat sleeve and whispered something. The man looked at her as if she'd gone insane. She nodded, then trampled back down the white carpet.
Someone
needed to straighten that before a guest tripped and sprained an ankle.
The minister cleared his throat again. “Friends of the groom, I'm sorry to have to inform you that Adam and Erin won't be getting married today. After a heartfelt discussion, they have decided it would be a mistake. We must applaud this kind of maturity. We do hope this hasn't been too great an inconvenience for any of you. Adam and Erin would like me to assure any of you who have already sent wedding presents that they will be returning them
soon. Any of you who would like to stay and enjoy the grounds are welcome to,” he added.
The soft murmurs rose to a dull roar and the minister had to raise his voice to be heard over the din. “Those of you who are friends of the bride, we ask your indulgence for just a few moments. If you wouldn't mind, please remain seated.”
BOOK: Bikini Season
11.57Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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