Page 31 of My Ex-Best Friend's Wedding

Lily laughs and downs what I assume is her first sip of champagne then lifts her phone to get a photo of the happy couple.

“Clay, can you refill the glasses?” Kendra asks as Lauren andI automatically stand and begin to carry food to the table as we have so many times.

I glance at Lauren at the same moment she glances at me and I know we’re both remembering the three of us sitting around this table together. Of all the meals we shared, it’s the dinner that Kendra prepared the day I moved in that I remember best. Not because of what it tasted like but because of the thought that Kendra put into it. The lasagna was made from my grandmother’s recipe. The crusty garlic bread was baked fresh that day, because Kendra knew how much I loved it. Dessert was Kendra’s now-famous triple-chocolate cake that she was trying to perfect at the time and that she said was not yet good enough to serve to anyone outside the family.

I remember how grateful I was to be the third member of this tiny family. How I thought Lauren and I would always share everything. When she’s in New York the loss and betrayal are muted, but when she’s here... Her presence is a stark reminder that that was little more than wishful thinking.

“This looks great.” Spencer appears genuinely pleased with the food that’s coming his way. Conversation flows around me as we fill our plates. Clay, who’s been making conversation with Spencer, throws back his head and laughs. Since I’m trying to ignore my husband I have no idea what was said, but I feel a fresh spike of anger that he seems to be having such a great time.

Then Kendra says, “Before we dig in, I’d like to toast one more happy event.”

We all raise our glasses and Kendra says, “Brianna has finished her novel. I think that’s something well worth toasting.”

I feel the blush spread over my cheeks even as I note Lauren’s surprise. Clearly, she never thought this would ever happen. That surprise stings and it’s all I can do not to tell her where she can shove her Central Park West apartment and her multibook contracts. I can barely bring myself to take a sip after everyone clinks glasses.

“I always knew you’d do it,” Kendra says. “Look at all you’ve created—your family, the store, and now a completed novel. You just put other things first.”

“She puteverythingfirst,” Lauren says.

I tell myself not to respond, that this is not the time or place, but the words nonetheless come rushing out. “Maybe that’s because I didn’t have someone else’s outline and notes to work from.”

Kendra winces. Clay takes a long pull on his mimosa. Spencer looks confused.

“I take it Lauren never mentioned that her first published novel was one we brainstormed and plotted together?” I grind out.

“That was fifteen years and twelve books ago,” Lauren snaps. “I think our publishing records speak for themselves.”

“That book jump-started your career,” I shoot back, shocked at how easily the words I’ve swallowed all these years spew out.

“That and all the ad writing, and articles, and blogging and ghostwriting,” Lauren responds. “Not to mention all the crummy jobs I had to work to stay afloat when I lost the roommate I was counting on. And FYI—notes and a rough outline are not a book—and certainly not a bestseller.” She barely pauses. “And it wasn’t likeyouwere ever going to do anything with it.”

I take the blow. There’s some small part of me that acknowledges the truth in her statement. But that book belonged to both of us and today I can’t seem to turn the other cheek. “Maybe not. But it was a huge hit and in all these years you’ve never once mentioned or acknowledged that you didn’t come up with the idea yourself.”

“Girls. Please.” The distress in Kendra’s voice is evident. We both know she wants us to do more than stop arguing. But I’m far too angry to apologize. Lauren stares straight ahead and chews as if her life depends on it.

We sit in an uncomfortable silence. Some of us pretend to eat. Clay doesn’t look at me. Neither does Lily.

Finally Kendra scrapes back her chair. “I think it’s time for dessert,” she says, standing and picking up her plate. We all jump up to help clear the table, men included. “I’m pouring coffee. Will you please serve your blueberry crumble, Brianna?”

I do as Kendra requests, not bothering to ask who wants any before I thump plates of it around the table, wincing when I realize that I thumped Clay’s hardest of all and that eagle-eye Lauren no doubt noticed. I feel especially small and petty for ruining the meal for Kendra, but I can’t bring myself to apologize and I’m sure as hell not going to take it back. It’s only the truth. I should have said it a long time ago. I’ve imagined telling Lauren off a million times. And in every imagining having my say made me feel infinitely better. But that’s not how I feel now. In fact, although I wouldn’t have thought it possible, I feel even worse than I did when I arrived.

Sixteen

Lauren

Clay shovels the dessert into his mouth and keeps his head down. Lily excuses herself to go to the bathroom while Bree sits there with a kind of sick look on her face. Spencer picks up his fork and begins to eat the blueberry crumble. My mother glances back and forth between Bree and me. It’s clear that all she wants is for us to “kiss and make up.”

I’m way too furious to eat so much as a bite of Bree’s dessert. The childish angry part of me would love to reach into the Pyrex dish, pick up a glob with my bare hand, and shove it into her face. But that can never happen.

Because although I saw Bree as a sister, my mother has always seen Bree as a victim of her parents’ neglect and disinterest, vulnerable and in need of our protection. She treated her like a wounded bird that had been pushed out of the nest and I understood that I needed to do the same. That because I was stronger and had a mother who loved me, I had to be careful of Bree’s feelings, that I should not be jealous of the attention my mother gave her, that lashing out at her like a real sister might was not an option. The way my mother has continued to treat her like a daughter even after our friendship fell apart... Well, it’s as if the three bears decided to adopt Goldilocks and then took the little bear’s chair away from him and gave it to Goldilocks because she “needed it” more.

But Bree’s an adult now, a wife and mother, a business owner. She has even, as it turns out, finished a novel when no one including me ever thought she would. Am I still supposed to pull my punches?

Bree stands and turns to my mother. “I hate to run off but Mrs. McKinnon is at the store today and asked me to come by after brunch. She had some problem with the sales receipts. Clay’s going to drop Lily off at her friend’s house. But they can help you with the dishes before they go.” She doesn’t even look my way.

“Oh, but I assumed you’d be here while Lauren tries on THE DRESS. I hoped you would.” My mother gives us both imploring looks. “Couldn’t you come back after you finish at the store?”

“Oh, I’m sure you and Lauren don’t need me in the middle of...” Bree says at the same time I say, “It makes no sense for Bree to get that close to home and come all the way back out to the beach again.” As if it’s some major journey and not a fifteen-minute drive across the Washington Baum Bridge and another couple minutes to the store.

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