Page 51 of Wild Hit
“All right.”
We share nods, the girls go back in their changing rooms before me. It takes me a moment longer to activate my now trembling limbs.
“It’s fine, everything’s fine,” I whisper softly to myself, my voice drowned under the rustling of clothes.
Yesterday, as we were brainstorming with the guys, Miguel and I concluded that simple gold bands will do. Not just because they’re affordable, something that only I care about in this charade. But also because—get this—gold looks better on both of our skins than white or pink gold. We tested it with accessories that came straight from Rosalina’s treasure chest.
I nearly died when Miguel and I put our hands together to compare the different golds. It almost felt real for a second, like we were really discussing what we were gonna wear for the rest of our lives.
Despite the good fun we ended up having in the store, which the large paper bag slamming against my thigh as I walk reminds me of, the feeling of trepidation I had earlier creeps back in with every step.
Am I doing the right thing? Couldn’t I just book a flight to Lithuania on my credit card and change my name there?
The answers are no, but also no. If I run—and here my eyes lift from the ground to my friends walking in front of me, acting as icebreakers against the crowd—then they’ll be at risk of my dad’s whims. I willneverdo that to them. I love my friends too much to back down.
So, in we go into a jewelry store. This is less busy than the clothing stores, but still we wait for a solid while until a seller is able to greet us.
“Good morning and welcome. Can I help you find something specific?” the woman asks with the smile of someone who isn’t implicating other people in the biggest screw-up of her life. Oh, to be her.
“Yes,” Rose responds on behalf of the group, but she turns back to me. “My friend here is looking for wedding rings.”
The sales woman, whose name tag reads Tonya, falters at that piece of information. Traditionally, people who are engaged would come together to do this. Here I am with two girl friends. By the way Tonya glances at us, I can tell that she’s trying to figure out what the story is here. Before her brain explodes with creative possibilities, I speak.
“My fiancé unfortunately couldn’t come, so my friends are providing moral support right now.”
“That is so sweet.” Tonya clasps her hands in a way that I can tell means,glad I didn’t step on a landmine there. “Do your fiancé and you have a specific idea, or would you like to look at different options?”
I swallow hard enough that I’m sure the whole store can hear it. “We lean toward a classic gold band.”
“Perfect, come with me.”
We walk around the counter, following her to a different corner. The girls whisper in my ear, “you got this” and also, “it’s gonna be great.” Except I don’t got this and it’s gonna be a disaster.
Tonya pulls out two different cases full of rings in pairs, a larger one that is clearly supposed to be for a man, and a smaller one for a woman. My eyes get lost on all the shiny gold. What if a man is actually smaller than a woman? What if it’s two people of the same gender? What if one wants yellow gold and the other pink? What if they’re both the same size? What if they have different taste?
I figure these are all the things a regular couple that knows each other and truly wants to spend their lives together would discuss. Between them. Not with a group of friends. They’d be standing here in front of Tonya together, excited for what these rings symbolize.
I wanna barf. I don’t even know what Miguel’s favorite color is—if he even has one. I don’t know if he prefers a more modest ring or one that gets everybody’s attention. I also don’t know what we’re gonna do with these after we legally divorce. Jewelry is like cars, where they start devaluating the second you take them out of the store. That means I’m making Miguel waste his hard earned money on me. Plus however much of his time will take to live this farce. And that’s also not to mention the whole vacation day that Hope and Rosalina took to come here.
“I know this is a very exciting moment,” Hope says, placing her hand on my back and rubbing circles. “But I’m gonna need you to breathe, okay?”
Rose asks, “Do you happen to have some water for the bride? I think she’s simply so overcome with emotion that she’s frozen.”
Yeah, ifemotionis the new name forpanic.
“Of course!” Tonya says. “Would you two like some water as well?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Thank you.”
As she walks off to the back I glance at my friends. “Guys, what the hell am I doing?”
“The right thing,” Hope answers with a determined set to her mouth.
Rose lifts her chin. “The only thing. And so help us, we’re going to free you from your dad no matter what we do.”
Tonya returns carrying three mini water bottles, chilled enough to freeze our brains. She walks us through the different shapes and finishes of the rings, adding some stories about whatthey mean in some cultures, and throwing some examples about past clients that are meant to build upon the concept of these being happily-ever-after rings and not the-one-to-rule-them-all rings.
