The Bridesmaid by Hailey Abbott

Author:Hailey Abbott [Abbott, Hailey]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2007-12-17T16:00:00+00:00

• 9 •

You May Now Kiss the Bride

This is not my life, Abby thought as she slumped down in her desk chair on Sunday afternoon. She crossed her arms over her chest and twisted her mouth into a sour pucker. She didn’t even want to think about the scrimmage going on down at the park right now, but her legs would not listen. They bounced up and down maniacally like they knew they were missing out.

Next weekend, Abby thought. Maybe next weekend I’ll actually get to play again.

Carol had typed up the list of songs for Abby to burn on the hundred blank CDs that sat on her floor. Abby had suggested a few songs that were, oh, recorded in their lifetime, but Carol was adamant. She wanted this to be a CD that all the guests would enjoy. Even Tucker’s grandparents.

“How about ‘It’s the End of the World As We Know It’?” Abby muttered to herself.

Downstairs, a door slammed and Abby flinched. Her parents had been slamming things all morning— doors, cabinets, the occasional window. It was making Abby very tense and very uncomfortable. She was not used to her parents arguing. She wasn’t even used to them disagreeing. When were they going to make up?

Slam! Stomp . . . stomp . . . stomp. Slam!

“All right, that’s it. I’m out,” Abby said to her empty room. She grabbed her bag and keys and headed for the van, her adrenaline pumping. At least there was no Sunday wedding this week. That would have been the icing on the cake.

“Abby!”

She whirled around, her heart in her throat. There was Becky sitting on one of the lattice benches in front of the house, surrounded by papers and magazines. She was uncharacteristically dressed down in jeans and a Boston College sweatshirt, her hair pulled back in a low ponytail. There was no makeup in sight.

“What are you doing here? There’s no wedding today,” Abby said.

“I know. I’m just . . .” Becky wrung her hands together and looked around at her things.

“Becky? What’s wrong?” Abby asked.

“It’s . . . your parents,” Becky said. “I think they’re a little . . . confused.”

Tell me about it, Abby thought. “What do you mean?” she asked, sitting down next to Becky.

“Well, they keep giving me things to do for Carol’s wedding and at first I was psyched, you know, to have the responsibility? But now—well, just look.”

Becky handed Abby a few papers. As Abby looked them over, her stomach twisted into tighter and tighter knots. In her dad’s handwriting was a note to call Candyland and Candy Corner to price out various candy stands. There was a page from Brides magazine showing a flavored tea station, with a Post-it attached. On it her mom had written, “Love this!” Her dad had written a list of flowers to order—all red roses and gerbera daisies and other crimson varieties. Her mother had given Becky a list of whites—orchids, lilies and the like.

“It’s like they’re not even talking to each other about what they’re giving me,” Becky said hopelessly.

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