Tell Me About It
Reflecting in the full-length mirror, the bridesmaid dress—Martha's choice—clings to me, an unwelcome second skin. It's supposed to be hideous, yet it stirs something within, a rebellious spark I can't quell.
Lily's insistence on attending the wedding is unyielding; she's already RSVP'd on my behalf. My nose wrinkles with frustration. To my chagrin, Martha's taste isn't as terrible as I'd hoped—the gold fabric accentuates just the right curves.
Catching my grandmother's reflection, she clears her throat, her white pants and baby blue blouse radiating youth and joy. "Disliking the dress because Maria picked it is understandable. I'd feel the same," she quips, wine glass in hand.
I ponder her morning celebration—or is this her new norm?—as she sips elegantly. I've ceased correcting her intentional misnaming of Dad's fiancée.
"Why drag me to this charade, Grandma?" My voice trembles, tears threatening, so I focus on the dress, seeking imperfections. Finding none only fuels my ire.
"It's for your father's happiness," she reasons.
"Did he consider our happiness when he impregnated another woman? Was he oblivious to Mom's spiral after the miscarriage, his own infidelity?" I retort.
"He clearly wasn't thinking," she chuckles, and despite myself, I join in.
Retreating to the bathroom, I shed the dress and banish it to the closet. It's beautiful, but the occasion taints it. With the wedding looming tomorrow, my nerves might outpace the bride's.
A gentle knock interrupts my solitude. Lily, ever perceptive, offers a knowing smile from the black couch, her feet tenderly kneading Papito's back. He perks up, then recognizing her, returns to slumber.
Karina's grin peeks through the door, mirroring Romeo's facade. They mask their pain so well, fooling everyone but me. I've heard her midnight cries. Is feigning strength a family trait?
"Hi, darling. Step inside," Lily says, setting her wine on my nightstand. I eye the glass warily, fearing for my pristine white carpet.
"I was just heading to the garden, thanks." She flashes a grin at Lily, who returns it with warmth. "Zed's down there," she adds, turning to me.
Her words send my heart into a tailspin. Mom's been on my case about confessing my true feelings to Zed, accusing me of childishness. I crave a serious relationship, but Romeo's image haunts my thoughts, clouding my focus. And deep down, I know he's not the one I'm longing for.
It took time, but Mom came to understand when she met Romeo. His charm, his grace—he's the very picture of a storybook prince.
"Zed?" I bolt upright. "Who invited Zed here?"
Her gaze flits around my room, a telltale sign of impending news I'm sure I won't like. "Michael."
I catch my breath.
"I didn't orchestrate this," she quickly assures, reading the storm brewing in my eyes.
"Why does that name ring a bell?" Lily murmurs.
Because Karina carelessly mentioned him in front of Lily, a move she surely regrets. They've never met, but Lily overheard my venting to Jude.
Before Karina can speak, I stride toward the boys. Mom's in the backyard, blissfully unaware, conversing with her flowers. I silently pray the boys will depart before anyone else arrives.
"Hi," I greet them with a practiced smile, descending the stairs. Karina trails behind, and even from a distance, I sense the electric tension between her and Michael.
"Zed! Michael!"
Zed's smile blooms at my approach. "Hey, Lena. Missed you. Hope you don't mind the visit. Your place is stunning."
Michael coughs awkwardly, his gaze fixed on Karina rather than me. The subtle swell of her four-month pregnancy is more noticeable to those familiar.
I stand beside them. "Of course not. You're always welcome. How did you find my house?"
Zed chuckles. "Your address isn't exactly a state secret. Didn't expect the interior to be this impressive."
His words draw a smile from me. Even Romeo knew where to find me.
"Good to know. Also, I wanted to follow up on the invitation you mentioned," Zed continues.
I freeze. Damn! I'd completely forgotten. I don't even recall extending that invitation. It was supposed to signify something serious. Bringing a date to a wedding is a statement, isn't it? Now, the thought of going with anyone other than Grandma feels disingenuous. Zed's jealousy could flare up at any moment, and I'm not prepared for the fallout.
YOU ARE READING
Romeo and Juliet
HumorSHORT CHAPTERS ------ He rips my phone from my hand again and puts it behind him. "Tell me how it works then." "We have to kiss." He looks at me for a few seconds, then grins. I recognize that smile. He's thinking of something mischievous. "A kiss?"...
