Page 22 of June Bride
Brandy led the way outside, where the cool night air greeted them. She had originally intended to take Sunny to the side of the building for their heart to heart, but she didn’t trust Sunny to not fall down the steps – or the handicap ramp, for that matter. So they stood to the side of the entrance, at the top of the ramp where Brandy hoped nobody would disturb them.
“My God, Sun.” Brandy pinched her nose. “You reek.”
“It’s aparty,Bran. You know, people making merry and not giving a shit about their pit stank and booze clouds.”
Based on theotherkind of clouds wafting through the parking lot, Brandelyn had a feeling that booze wasn’t the only substance people partook in that night. While recent legalization laws made it easier for her to recommend marijuana to her patients, it meant Brandelyn suffered the smell every time she stepped outside.My nosy neighbors are the worst offenders.Their perpetual pot cloud kept Brandy coughing every time she went out to water her flowers in the evening.
“My family is making plenty merry in my house right now. My mother discovered my wine stash, for crying out loud, and my stepfather got his sports app working on my TV. I haven’t had a damned thought to myself since they got here. Don’t get me started on the boys.” When they weren’t hounding the internet connection playing games on their phones, they were squealing in the yard or raising hell in the street. What noise pollution they didn’t contribute with their constant yelling was provided by honking cars. “Look, honey, I didn’t plan on coming by and interrupting your party at all tonight. But I don’t want us going into the next week on the wrong foot. I… I want to apologize. For everything.”
Sunny sobered up faster than Brandy had ever seen before. Was that all it took? Or was the inebriation an excuse for her to act like she had? “Apologize? I don’t expect any apologies.”
“I want to apologize. I’ve been a real tyrant in the wedding planning. Especially since… well, I know it’s your wedding, too.”
Sunny didn’t say anything. Was that her silent way of agreeing that Brandelyn had been an ass for the past few months? Let alone the last few weeks of insanity!
“I guess I got all caught up in it because, in my mind, I was the bride, you know? I’ve always want to be a ‘bride,’ and it didn’t matter if I was in a lesbian relationship. I grew up with these notions that the bride is the only one who cares about things. The groom, male or female, shows up to get it over with and then goes drinking with their buddies. Then we go off on our honeymoon, boom, the fantasy is over. Back to real life.” Brandelyn sighed. “When you first told me that you didn’t care about the wedding planning as much, I took that as my sign to be the big bride. When you told me I could do most of the planning because it stressed you out too much, I… I went overboard, I know. But I really crossed a line with the dress thing. I’m sorry I reacted the way I did the other day. You honestly surprised me. I swear I wasn’t trying to judge you or anything. I… you know I don’t like curve balls in my life.”
Sunny managed a sloppy smile that gave Brandelyn hope this would soon be behind them. “I’m like a big curve ball, though!”
“Sometimes, yeah.” Brandelyn didn’t mention that being a “big curve ball” meant they weren’t too compatible. Sunny was the right mix of spontaneity and reliability, though. She was as reliable as Brandy needed, while bringing that huge dose of much-needed spontaneity.Because I’m not doing it for myself, that’s for sure.“That’s what I like about you, though. You keep life from being boring. You always keep me guessing.”
“Yeah, I… I do stuff like that sometimes…” Sunny scratched the top of her head like she had something to hide.It’s okay, hon, I forgive you for being roaring drunk at your party.Not that anyone had asked for Brandy’s forgiveness.I love doling it out, though.She was somewhat inspired by these festivities. Perhaps she might go home and join her family in the raiding of the wine cellar.
“You can wear whatever you want.” Brandy took her fiancée’s hand and gave it a tight squeeze. “Suit, dress… well, keep it formal, I suppose. If I’m walking down the aisle with an expensive dress to die for, it’s only fair that you keep up with me. In fact, your Bridezilla commands it.”
Sunny grinned. “You mean that? Because, you know, maybe I’ll wear the tux to the ceremony and change into the dress for the reception! Wouldn’t that be a good compromise?”
Brandelyn had to admit it played right into the most important aspect of her plans.The optics of her tux and my dress as we stand at the altar is everything I wanted.The photographers would be locked and ready to go as they said their cherished vows and exchanged rings. Sunny could spring into the reception wearing boxer shorts and a tank top and Brandy wouldn’t give a shit. As long as she was gorgeous for the ceremonial photos!
“No…” she eventually said. “You should only do that if it’s what you want. I want you tofeelas good as you look when we get married, baby.” Brandelyn Meyer was not a “baby” person. That word only naturally came out when she was really in the mood, and looking into Sunny’s drunken doe-eyes brought out the babies. “I want us riding off into the sunset that is our honeymoon while we feel so good we can’t come down from our high until our twenty-fifth anniversary.”
“Why stop there?” Sunny asked. “Let’s go for fifty!”
“I’ll be in my nineties by then!”
“So? Doesn’t mean we won’t still be kicking some ass around this town!”
They gazed into each other’s eyes, on the verge of leaning in for a kiss. Brandy didn’t care that her fiancée’s lips smelled terrible, or that kissing Sunny in her current, inebriated state might be technically illegal. Yet she would take those hands, nuzzle her nose against Sunny’s, and think of more words to say.
Too bad she took a little too long to think of something.
“Goes to show that everyone settles, I guess.” Two women stepped out of the bar, one lighting up a cigarette the moment the door closed behind her. The other woman grabbed onto the handrail before she splat her face onto the parking lot. “Some people give up good sex, others give up their everyday sanity…”
The other woman laughed so loudly that she had to be drunk. “If you’re Sunny Croker, you give up both, apparently!”
“Are you surprised? Dr. Meyer has always come across as a stuck-up bitch. I’m glad I started seeing that other doctor, even if she’s half an hour away. It means I don’t have to put up with being told my diet sucks. Like, I know that! Who cares? Besides, do I want to discuss my sexual health with someone whose idea of a good time is being a pillow princess? Like, there are hot pillow princesses who make you want to work for it, and then there’s Dr. Meyer, who…”
They both paused. Blood began to boil in Brandy’s ringing ears.
“Wet fish!” both women exclaimed at once. They doubled-over in laughter, feet scrambling down the steps while cigarette smoke danced in the late spring night.
Brandy stood back from Sunny, who hung her head and grumbled something her fiancée couldn’t hear.
“What were those women saying about…” Brandelyn didn’t have to ask. She had two perfectly working ears. Those words were in English. From the way Sunny blushed and looked as if she would rather be anywhere than here, she knew something about this. “Why are they commenting onoursex life?”
“It’s my bachelorette party,” Sunny explained a little too quickly. “People make up shit because they’re jealous.”
Brandelyn opened her mouth to demand something else. Yet the bar door slammed open, revealing Anita as she reached for Sunny. The implication that it was time togowas raw on her face.
