Page 5 of The Holiday Honeymoon Switch
“Uh-oh, I’m a bit tipsy,” Holly says as they get in the back of the town car that will take them to Ivy’s apartment. “My face will be all puffy tomorrow for my wedding.”
“Please—you could drink all night and walk down the aisle in flannel pajamas, and you’d still be the most beautiful bride in the world.”
“Aw, Ivy.” Holly leans her head against her friend’s shoulder and Ivy pats her hair. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Back at ya,” Ivy says.
“We’re going to be friends for life.”
“I know we are.” And Ivy does. She knows married life is going to change things, but also that they can survive it. When Holly went to Yale for law school and Ivy stayed in New York City to start a grueling internship at the ad firm where she’s now a senior graphic designer, they sometimes went weeks without seeing each other—but never let it go longer than a month before one of them would take the train either into the city or to New Haven for a girls’ weekend.
Holly leans forward and looks at the clock on the dash ofthe town car. “Forty-five more minutes until midnight, and then the day will be here. My wedding day.”
“The countdown is on. Less than sixteen more single-girl hours for you.”
“What’s the plan for the rest of the evening?”
“Sheet masks and a movie.”
“Perfect. Which movie?”
“It’s a surprise. And I agonized. I mean, justonemovie and not an entire marathon? Tough to pick just one. But I did it. I found the most romantic, but also the weirdest, but also one of our most favorite movies of all time—”
“Meet Joe Black!”
Ivy laughs. “You guessed it. For movie snacks, I have collagen water, this Aztec chocolate that’s supposed to make your skin look like a newborn baby’s,andmaybe the smallest, tiniest bit of top-shelf tequila—because everyone knows you don’t get a hangover with the good stuff. And a bubble bath for you, and then…one last sleep before you’re officially a married lady!”
“Married lady,” Holly repeats. Then she sighs. “I’m not going to turn into my mother, am I?”
“Holly, I promise, there is zero chance of that.”
“I’m sorry she was so rude tonight. It’s not that she doesn’t like you…”
“It’s just that she hates me,” Ivy finishes. “And that’s fine. Really, Hol. You know I’m not sensitive about it. She wishes you two had the relationship we do—”
“And we can’t because she’s such an asshole all the time.”
Ivy snort-laughs. “That is exactly why.”
“One day, it will be you getting married,” Holly says. “And I can only hope I’m half the maid of honor you are.”
“Maybe,” Ivy says.
“Maybe I’ll be half the maid of honor you are?”
“Oh, God, no, you’ll totally nail it the way you nail everything. You’ll leave me in your dust. Just, you might never get the chance.”
“It’s going to happen. One day, you’ll find love that makes you levitate…dance like a dervish…”
“Screw like a horny titmouse?”
“The full package. Horny titmice and everything.”
The car arrives at Ivy’s Greenwich Village apartment building. “I’m so glad I can be myself with you,” Holly says as they tumble out of the car and link arms.
“I’m glad I can, too, and that you love me for it.” Ivy is generally herself with everyone, and sometimes not everyone’s cup of tea. But with Holly, she doesn’t have to worry about being considered abrupt, or offbeat, or too honest, or too frank about sex. Holly likes her just the way she is. And, Ivy can’t help but think, shouldn’t that be the case in Holly’s life, too? Weren’t you supposed to be yourself with the person you were marrying?
“Hey, you okay?” Holly asks as they stand, waiting for the elevator.
