Page 22 of Cookout Carnage
JONATHAN: {Emoji of LMAO} I have always wanted to see Hawaii.
HER: Bon Voyage. And congrats on your wedding! She’s peachy.
JONATHAN: That’s Tropic Thunder level 6 spray-on-tanner. Get it right.
HER: I’m here and not going anywhere. But the report from the crowd around me is—she didn’t tell anyone. Everyone thinks you’re still getting married tomorrow except us. Even people who were at the café still think you’re getting married. Like we didn’t kiss while they were finishing their chicken salad.
7
JULIET
It’s kind of a fucking evil-genius plan. Just keep going forward with the wedding. Perhaps she thinks Jonathan will be like, ‘Oh, well, you’ve gone to so much trouble, we might as well get married.’
I’m stunned at her vivid-orange chest, neon-green dress, and her balls. I peek back into the gazebo where Tanya is holding court, and Jonathan’s head is spinning. I drift among the guests who don’t know of our connection yet. His eyes find me. I knew he would.
I’m wearing a gold sundress with small pink flowers on it. It reminds me of the simple dresses my mother used to make for us from the leftover quilting scraps. I bought it in Providence, but it somehow seemed out of place there. Much like me. But now I’m here, and right now, I’m WAY out of place. I need him to shut this shit down so we can get to us.
I keep wiping my palms with my fingers to keep the sweating down to a minimum. There’s plenty of food and drink being passed by waiters. Her father must have paid a fortune to cater to the center square. It’s no secret he’s always wanted a piece of Tucker Farm to develop. It must have been his plan with this mismatched mischief marriage. She never bothered with us in high school. Our collars were too blue.
But I’m sure not letting a lifetime of loving him slip away forever. I tried doing that, and it was horrible. I was living a half-ass life. Time to get a full-ass life, and I won’t be stopped by a spray-on tan and a dinosaur-sized balloon arch.
His mom moves people out of her way to get to me. “You look so pretty, Juliet. This is nothing, you know. As far as I know, he’s not getting married.”
“That’s what I know.”
“But I’m not sure if I’m supposed to be telling people. So, I just mind my own business and keep changing the subject to candle making.”
“Do you make candles?”
“No. But wouldn’t that be interesting?” That’s one way to do it.
She squeezes my shoulders, and her warmth radiates through me. She flits off to her old book club friends.
Everyone knows to stay off the roads when the book club meets. Way too many “theme cocktails” matched to each book. Kenny started picking them up in a passenger van after the night that the coolest woman in town, Merri Cuadra, parked her car in the middle of the school parking lot and slept there.
The humidity is predictably sticky, and I’m covered in mosquito bites already. Still, I’ve never felt more at home in my skin. Not at this particular party but in general. I’m not leaving because I don’t want to turn my back on any of it again.
There’s atskand a chill at my back. I knew this was coming. I’m not in high school any longer, so she can’t bully me. I think.
Tanya scoffs. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me?”
I smack on a large strained smile and turn. I say, “For someone so small, that hair is so very high.” A cater waiter interrupts us, and Tanya takes a glass of red wine.
“No, thank you. I can only drink white. The sulfides cause migraines.”
“Too bad, this is Jonny’s favorite from our close personal friend’s wine place.”
“Tabi?”
She bristles. I was guessing, but at least it’s a good guess. The waiter hands me a glass of sparkling wine, and I smile and sip.
“No one bothered to tell me you crawled back, but things are snapping into place. You look almost as well as the last time I saw you. You know you’re certainly not welcome tomorrow.” Her teeth are grinding together loudly.
“For someone whose hair is so flammable, I’m shocked there are so many open flames. Don’t get too close to the grills.”
“You would know.” She’s a bit haughty for making absolutely no sense whatsoever.
“Tanya, whether you believe it or not, there’s nothing going on tomorrow. Unless you want to meet up for brunch or something?” She hisses at me. All the baubles and crystal things on her dress must weigh a ton. I’m shocked she’s upright. She’s so short. It must weigh half her body weight. Perhaps that’s why she keeps shoving her orange tits back into the dress every couple of minutes. The weight is continuously dragging it down.
