Page 19 of Endless Summer: Stories
Barbie’s Wedding
(Read withThe Rumor)
Because Eddie is in jail, there is no one to give her away. That’s the first thing she thinks after Glenn slips the ring on her finger.
The second thing she thinks is:I’m too old for a big wedding, but I’m going to have one anyway.
Glenn lays a big, juicy kiss on her in front of everyone in the office—which, as she’s worked there scarcely a week, she still thinks of asGlenn’s office.Everyone claps even louder than they did when Barbie said yes. Another woman might have been annoyed at the public proposal, but, especially since Glenn and Barbie had been so dead set on (and so successful at) keeping their relationship a secret, Barbie likes finally having everything out in the open. She feels honored that Glenn would want to put his love for her on display. She is forty-one years old, and most of this island certainly thought she would go to her grave a spinster.
The ring is an absolute stunner—three point one carats (as Glenn whispers in her ear only seconds after it’s on her finger; he’s a stickler for details like that, and he knows Barbie is too. If he hadn’t told her, she might have run right into Jewel of the Isle and had it appraised). It is nearly as big as the black pearl Barbie wears around her neck, a pearl she bought with her first five-figure commission because she could. She’d lied and told Glenn that the pearl had been given to her by a man named Earl Fischer, a hedge-fund manager who retired to the north shore of Oahu to surf and play golf. Earl Fischer doesn’t exist. Barbie made him up in order to make Glenn jealous and also to hide the fact that, aside from Glenn Daley, she’s never been in a real, adult relationship.
There was Tony Harlowe in high school—too upsetting to think about—and a few one-night stands with men she didn’t know and would never see again. One of the one-nighters was named Comanche Jones. This she remembers because who could forgetthatname? Comanche Jones had a bald spot the size of a drinks coaster on the back of his head and a bit of a paunch; he was the “head manager” at the Sports Authority in Hyannis. Barbie had met him at the bar at Not Your Average Joe’s at the mall when she was stranded during a snowstorm, and one thing led to another, aided by five or six prickly pear margaritas. To be painfully honest, the best thing about Comanche Jones had been his name; Barbie later suspected he had made it up, although this hadn’t stopped her from telling Glenn that she had “dated” a man named Comanche Jones.
There had been many, many lies and exaggerations to Glenn in the eighteen months of their dating, mostly harmless fibs about Barbie’s romantic past, but some lies were bigger, the most troubling among them Barbie’s claim that she had had no involvement in the prostitution ring on Low Beach Road. The conversations Eddie had had with his attorney were confidential, but Barbie knew that word on the cobblestones was that Eddie had offered a confession as long as Barbie was spared.
He would be in jail for three and a half years.
Glenn had asked about this point-blank. “Did you know what your brother was doing out there? Those poor, innocent girls! Jeez, it turns my stomach to think about it.”
Barbie said, “I had no idea, obviously. I’m a woman myself, Glenn. Do you think I would have allowed Eddie to debase them like that?”
“One was only seventeen years old,” Glenn says. “A baby. And so far from home.”
Barbie could never have admitted her involvement—the whole thing had been her idea!—nor could she point out that the girls, although young and far from home, were hardly victims. They were willing participants who had been more eager for the money than even Eddie or Barbie. The cash they pocketed had improved their quality of life, and they’d gotten to meet some interesting men. Barbie had overheard Gabrielle talking to Nadia about IPO offerings and stock options and a prospectus for a company she was considering investing in.
“I thought Eddie was hiding something,” Barbie said to Glenn. “I wish I’d paid closer attention. I would have stopped him before he started.”
Glenn had kissed the tip of her nose. “That’s my girl.”
Barbie had sensed his palpable relief. She and Glenn were madly in love, but nobody wanted to propose marriage to a felon, even an unconvicted one.
After the public proposal in the office, Glenn announces that he and Barbie are taking the rest of the day off. Barbie notes the baleful expression on Rachel McMann’s face, so Barbie treats Rachel to a view of her nostrils, an upturned nose. Rachel is a hemorrhoid. She reminds Barbie of the girls she used to fight in high school. However, Rachel is one of Glenn’s favorites in the office—why, Barbie isn’t quite sure. Maybe because she’s both anal about her work and a kiss-ass.
But Glenn hasn’t proposed marriage to Rachel McMann, has he? He has proposed to Barbie Pancik, and they are taking the rest of the day off!
They leave the office and climb into Glenn’s Cadillac Escalade. The weight of the diamond on Barbie’s finger is delicious. She wishes she could call Eddie.
Glenn says, “Now that we’re getting married, you can sell your Triumph. I’ll buy you something more practical.”
Before Barbie can stop herself, she says, “No, that’s okay. I’ll keep the Triumph.”
Glenn is silent, and Barbie thinks that they’ve been engaged for five minutes and already there are territory wars.
Glenn knows that Barbie loves her Triumph, and Barbie knows that Glenn hates it because he’s too big to fit in it. He chews on his knees and the seat belt doesn’t clear his girth. On the one hand, Barbie feels she should concede and let Glenn buy her a car that he will be comfortable in. On the other hand, the Triumph is Barbie’s ride. It’s a signature piece in the life she has painstakingly curated.
“That car needs too much maintenance,” Glenn says.
“It’s good on gas,” Barbie says. “And it’s impressive to clients.”
“Clients don’t like to be squished,” Glenn says.
Barbie stares out the window at the streets of Nantucket. It’s the last week of August and the island is jam-packed with summer visitors. Barbie would like to put her window down and flutter her ring at everyone. She sees Roy Weedon, another real estate agent, standing on Broad Street with a couple who look like potential buyers—the woman carries a Nantucket Lightship basket, and the husband’s hands are stuffed deep in his pockets (Barbie’s guess is that the wife is dying for a house but the husband doesn’t want to spend the money). Barbie waves at Roy, but he doesn’t see her.
“That’s something you and your brother have in common,” Glenn says. “You’re both wavers.”
Barbie lets this comment slide. She loves Eddie to death but Glenn pointing out their commonalities will only lead to a complex conversation. “Where are we going?” she asks.
“Yacht club,” Glenn says. “Lunch.”
