Page 92 of Resistance Training
Happy birthday to you.
PS: I think we need to introduce Bella to Hairy Styles soon. We’re all going to be spending a lot of time together, going forward.
CHAPTER 28
VIVIAN
June
Granny Sparks keeps laughing at me, but I haven’t even said anything funny yet.
I think she’s just giddy about my dreamy boyfriend and she’s trying to steal my date.
She is also amused by me standing up here with a glass of champagne in one hand and a microphone in the other, because everyone who knows me knows that I hate public speaking. Unless drunk-singing “Summer Nights” counts as public speaking. And I might have to start telling everyone about what a blast I had last summer, because I don’t have a maid-of-honor speech prepared.
My mom, who is at least two and a half sheets to the wind, is visibly crossing herself, praying that I don’t fuck this up and embarrass the whole family—and she isn’t even Catholic.
This is all Brad’s fault. By “all Brad’s fault” I mean it’s all thanks to him being a personal trainer who’s good at motivating people, because he convinced me I should just wing it. He said I’m so good at speaking from the heart and no matter what Ihad planned I would probably just end up winging it anyway. And then he distracted me by doing magical mouth things to my clitoris and entire vulval region, so my brain never got back around to stressing about how I had to compose the perfect speech.
I look over at Brad, frowning at him. But he is so damn handsome in that navy-blue suit that makes his green eyes pop. And his dark hair is just so…unh. And I love it when he has stubble, but he shaved, so his jawline is just…hoo-ah!And his butt in those suit pants is just…wowza.And I mean everyone has been ogling my date today, but he ismine.
And he’s widening his eyes at me, reminding me that I am supposed to say words about my sister the bride up here.
“Um. You’re probably wondering why I’ve summoned all of you here…” I say into the mic.Classic.
“Tell me more, tell me more!” Granny Sparks hollers from the seat next to my date.
“Uh-huh, doo-doo, uh-huh!” I glance over at my sister, who looks so beautiful and…damp…and happy…and only slightly impatient with me. “Yes. Aubrey. This is a toast to the beautiful bride, my big sister, Aubrey. Looking around, it’s nice to see all the people Aubrey cares about gathered here under one deluxe heavy-duty wedding tent. This way it will be so much easier for her to tell each of us what’s best for us. And let us all, truly, be glad for this, because the thing about Aubrey is—she isn’t just telling us what’s best for us because she thinks she’s right about everything. It’s because she really does care for us and really does want the best for us. And also because she’s right about everything. Which is why she keeps track of the weather where we live. She thinks of everything for everyone she cares about. It just somehow never occurred to her that it might rain on Orcas Island during her outdoor ceremony on her wedding day…”
I wait for the loving laughter and cheers to subside before continuing. “Seriously, though, I’m sure you all agree that it was the surprise thunderstorm that made today especially memorable. But another thing I will never let my sister forget is thatIwas the one who thought to bring rainboots for her and everyone else in the wedding party—just in case.”
Aubrey holds her champagne flute up to me. “Well played, sis.”
People applaud for me, and I actually receive it. I’m still not sure that I deserve the title maid ofhonor, but I’m working on the whole feeling-worthy thing. I did carry the train of her beautiful wedding gown as she walked out of the hotel and down the very wet lawn path to the arbor for the ceremony. And I did rock the bachelorette tea party last weekend by bringing penis-shaped teaspoons. And whiskey. In a penis-shaped decanter. Her on-again, off-again BFF Jenna is rooting for me to fail, but I am, unfortunately, nailing it.
“And well played to you as well, sis.” I raise my glass to her and Eric, immediately regretting it, because I have raised it way too early in the game. Now I’m going to have to hold it up like this for a very long time. Good thing I have such strong biceps. And the iron will to make my sister cry. “I think about all the times I’ve had the pleasure of being around Aubrey and herhusband, Eric. How when they’re with a group of people, like today, they always make sure everyone feels included. Seen. Heard. Told what to do. But even when they’re talking to other people, they’re always connecting with each other. Eric always somehow has his hand on Aubrey’s leg or on her hand or he’s rubbing the small of her back if she’s nearby. Aubrey’s always looking across a crowded room to make eye contact with him for a second even when she’s busy making someone else feel like all of her attention is on them.
“My sister knew she wanted to marry Eric after their first date, around three and a half-years ago. And she wasn’t impatient either. She was perfectly happy to spend years getting to know him while she waited for him to get his act together and finally propose. And I remember being kind of in awe of that. Not the patience, but thatknowing. Because at the time, I hadn’t experienced it myself.”
I look over at Aubrey, who is clearing her throat, and her eye makeup is still a bit smudged from the rain, but she is definitely not crying.Nice try,she mouths to me.
“I owe so much to Aubrey and Eric. Through them, I met Eric’s friend Jeremy…” Silence befalls at least half the people under this canopy. Not total silence, because of the pitter-patter of raindrops on the polyester fabric above us, but more silence than I was expecting. I suppose not everyone here got the memo that I’m notPoor Viviananymore, that I am in fact super happy Vivian with the extremely hot and literate boyfriend, the one they’ve all been staring at.
I glance over at Jeremy, whose jaw is almost always tight, but it looks like he’s grinding his molars to dust. Duckface is seated at a nearby table and looks like she wishes she could disappear under it, and not for fun reasons.
“What I mean is I had the great good fortune of meeting Eric’s handsome, charismatic friend Jeremy, we started dating, and I moved with him to Portland when he got a great job there. And at the end of last year, he decided to move back to Seattle to be with his lovely fiancée, Duck…” I look over at Aubrey, who is covering her mouth because she’s laughing at me.
“His lucky duck…beautiful face…Langley. They’re here tonight and they’re such a wonderful couple, yay!” I slap the inside of my bare arm repeatedly, with the hand that’s holding the microphone, making loud humping noises and encouraging people to applaud for Jeremy and Duckface. While they applaudthem and Jeremy nods at me from his seat at the opposite end of the head table, I take a quick sip of champagne becauseyeesh.
“So, after Jeremy left Portland, I stayed there. And I had the opportunity to meet so much delicious pie and artisanal ice cream and tacos and wine, and well…as much as I loved getting to know myself and all those carbs again, I wasn’t doing as great as I thought I was.
“And Aubrey wanted the best for me. So she tracked down the person she knew was the best person for me. Someone I hadn’t seen in a long time. It’s only a little terrifying that she hired a private investigator to find him…”
Aubrey grimaces, reaches over to squeeze Eric’s knee, and I realize she never mentioned this to Eric.
“Super chill and low-key, though, Eric! I just want to emphasize how loving and generous a big-sisterly act this was. Because it changed my life. For the better. For the best. In so many ways. And his too.” I smile at Brad. But I can feel my eye twitching becauseGod dammit, Granny Sparks, get your hand off his shoulder.“I know who I want now. I remember who I am now. I know what I deserve. And it’s all because of you, Aubrey. Let’s raise our glasses to my sister, who is always right—except for that one time when I was in high school when she sort of ruined everything—and her husband, who gets to acknowledge how right she is forever and ever, amen. I love you, Aubrey! Cheers!”
Finally, I gulp down my champagne, hand the microphone to my dad, who pats me on the back and says, “Thanks for not saying the F-word,” and I go over to Eric to give him a hug.
