Page 51 of My Ex-Best Friend's Wedding

“Are you kidding?” Fury spikes through me. I’m about to give them both a piece of my mind when Spencer puts down thesuitcases and takes my hand. A small shake of his head is meant to stop me from saying anything more. I stop talking, but only because I’m trying to come up with the most scathing indictment of Clay and this clichéd and offensive behavior possible. I mean, right here in Bree’s own house? In the bedroom that once belonged to her grandmother?

“Oh. Hi.” Clay is clearly at a loss. “I thought you were moving over to the Dogwood.”

“Plumbing issue. Our room is uninhabitable,” I reply. “We just found out a couple minutes ago. I didn’t realize we needed to call and warn anyone.”

I actually enjoy the sick look on Clay’s face. At least he seems to care that he’s been found out. I’m not so happy about the triumphant expression on the blonde’s. She appears just bitchy enough to wish it were Bree who’d come in unexpectedly. In that moment all I want is to wipe that look off her face. Bree and I have had our issues, but no one deserves this. “Who’s yourfriend?” I ask Clay.

Spencer nudges me.

“What?” I turn to him with the most innocent expression I can muster. “Isaid‘friend.’ Not ‘piece of ass’ or even ‘sleaze on the side,’ like I wanted to.”

Spencer sighs.

“Nobody you need to worry about.” Clay says this quietly and I know him well enough to understand that’s as close as he’s going to come to asking me not to say anything to Bree. But I don’t know what it means that he feels free to do this here in their home. Or whether Bree already knows.

I don’t respond. Not even when the blonde, who doesn’t look anywhere near as attractive close up and who really needs to do something about her roots, flounces past us.

“Did you really used to date that guy?” Spencer asks after the truck has started up and backs out of the drive.

“Yeah.” Now that the encounter is over the adrenaline andanger are seeping out of me. “But I was young and inexperienced. And my taste has obviously improved.” I feel in need of a shower and somehow guilty just from knowing. “I did try to warn Bree that he was too immature to settle down. That was one of the things she’s held against me. But I had no idea he was screwing around.”

Spencer shakes his head. “Man, that sucks. I kind of liked the guy.”

“I know. Me, too. He’s got lots of good qualities, but...” I slump. It’s all too much. My mother’s lies. Clay’s cheating. “In case you’re wondering, that’s not something I would ever put up with.”

“Yeah. Me, either. As far as I’m concerned, that’s the antithesis of what marriage is about.” Spencer puts his arms around me and pulls me close until our foreheads touch. He’s so real and solid.

“God, I wish we were back in New York.”

“We can go if you really want to,” he says gently. “But I thought you’d want more time to get to know Jake. And show me more unpronounceable yet very cool sights.” He hesitates for a moment. “And, well, I still hope you can at least sit down and talk to your mother.”

I don’t bother to say no as I follow him up the stairs to Rafe’s bedroom. But that’s not going to happen. I also know that telling Bree what we just witnessed would be a big mistake. She’s made it clear before that she doesn’t want to hear anything bad about her husband. Only, I don’t know how I can look her in the eye andnottell her what we just saw.

Kendra

It’s Tuesday morning and I am still hiding inside like a frightened mouse. Look at me the wrong way and I will squeak interror. Since I’m not really sleeping, I started baking at threeA.M.and had everything that was promised for today ready by six thirty. I even got dressed; something I haven’t done since Saturday. But at the last minute I couldn’t take the first step off the front porch. When my neighbor Julie, who’s delivered before in a pinch, came over to pick up the baked goods, I could barely meet her eye.

I am frozen in place, unable to break free. I can’t bear being alone with my thoughts and mistakes and regrets, but the longer I hide here the harder it is to contemplate going out.

Virtually everyone I know has called, but I don’t answer the phone. My voice mail is full and I can’t bring myself to listen or delete. Mouse that I am, I have locked the front door and brought the key inside for the first time in memory. I cower behind the curtains at the first sound of a car turning into my driveway. Jake has been here twice in as many days and both times I could hardly think or hear for the pounding of my heart and the whooshing of blood in my ears.

Dee and Bree have stood and knocked until their knuckles must be raw. They called through the door to try to get me to open up and to let me know that Lauren and Spencer are still here. They’ve begged me to come talk to her. Reminded me that their flight back to New York is on Friday. As if I’m not counting the minutes left.

Through it all, I hear their hurt that I never took them into my confidence, their shock that I was never married and that I kept Lauren from her father and both our families. But even when they threaten to use their keys I still don’t let them in or even make a sound.

The only person I haven’t heard from is the only person I want to. But I know my daughter. She doesn’t suffer fools gladly. And I am the biggest fool of all.

Twenty-four

Lauren

It’s Tuesday evening. Spencer, Jake, and I are sitting at Ortega’z over on Sir Walter Raleigh Street. I’m nursing a margarita while I watch Jake and Spencer chow down on what they have proclaimed to be some seriously great Mexican/Southwestern food. Although I’m too stressed to eat, I’m proud of the fact that the foodie I’m marrying seems perfectly happy with everything he’s consumed since we arrived on the Outer Banks, from Tortugas’ Lie and Ortega’z, which he’d seen featured on Food Network’sDiners, Drive-ins and Dives, to Sam & Omie’s, where I took him for lunch today for old time’s sake, because I’ve been going there practically from birth.

My birth. My eyes turn to my father—

I still stumble over the word even in my head—as he tilts the margarita to his lips and contemplates me out of his kindly brown eyes. He has an easy warmth that makes everyone around him comfortable. From what I’ve seen of him he and my mother should have been well suited.

I stumble again over that thought and another lump rises in my throat. I cannot understand how she could have walked away from their wedding and the life they had planned.

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