Page 85 of Four Weddings to Fall in Love
She nods in thanks.“He barely did anything for the wedding, and he acted like he was doing me a favor by letting me figure out every detail.I was constantly arguing with both of our mothers, who didn’t approve of any of my decisions, while he did nothing to support me.”
Yeah, that doesn’t sound fun.
“I know that’s what marriage would be like, too,” she says.“I would do everything.He wants to start trying for a baby right away, and I bet I’d do all the childcare.It would all be onme.Like it was on my mother, and now she acts like I owe her.I’m not sure what I want, but I don’t want that.I don’t think I want to get married to anyone.”
My instinct is to protest, even though I’ve said similar things in the past, but I keep my mouth shut.
“He’s not even that great in bed,” Yvonne continues.“I’ve only slept with three men, and none of them have been great.”
Again, definitely not like Max.The first time was nothing special, but it’s good now—and I’ve slept with many men, so I have lots to compare to.
“Or maybe that’s just the way sex is for me?”She frowns, then looks horrified, as if she just realized what she said out loud.“Auntie, I’m sorry…I shouldn’t…especially in a church…”
“Ah, don’t worry about it,” Lynne says.“It’s fine.I’m not telling anyone.”
Yvonne glances at the floor.“While I was having my hair done this morning, I looked up divorce articles and statistics.Lots of women are happier after divorce.They feel relieved.Is that what marriage is always like?”
“I’ve been married for almost forty years, and I wouldn’t be happier without my husband.”
“But what if I’m waiting for the impossible?What if my standards are too high?What if I want someone perfect, someone who doesn’t exist?”
Lynne arches a brow.“Is that the problem?Carl isn’t perfect?I think it’s more than that.”
“I feel like he doesn’t even know me,” Yvonne whispers.
“You should wait for the right person,” Lynne says.“But first, you should get out of here.Do you have your phone and wallet?”
Yvonne nods and holds up a small purse.
“Take my car.”Lynne fishes her keys out of her pocket.
My eyes widen, as do Yvonne’s.
“Auntie,” she says, “I can’t—”
“Obviously, you will return it.Sometime in the next few days, when you’re ready.It’s the Camry in the back right corner of the lot.”Lynne finds some crayons and paper in the room, writes down a number, and stuffs it in Yvonne’s purse.“Now go.I’ll pretend I didn’t see you.Well, I have to tell my husband because he’ll wonder about the car, but I won’t tell your mother or Carl’s mother.”
“But she’s your sister-in-law.”
“We never got along,” Lynne says dismissively.“Just text your mom so she knows you’re alive.She’ll worry.But you should go now, if you don’t want to be found.”She points to the right.“There’s a small door at the far end of the hallway.Try that rather than going up the main staircase.”
Yvonne gives Lynne a quick hug before dashing out of the room.
Now I’m alone with Max’s mom, and my mouth is hanging open.
“What is it?”she asks.
“You just encouraged her to leave her own wedding.”
“She clearly didn’t want to get married.I should have told her to go back down the aisle?”
I’m struck by how different Lynne is from my own mother.If my mom were confronted with a runaway bride, she’d tell the poor woman to think about what this would do to her family, think about what people would say.
She wouldn’t give the bride her fucking car keys.
The wild thing is, within the same conversation, Lynne implied she’s happily married.
“Lynne, can I ask you something?”
