Page 71 of A Love Letter to Whiske
“B!” SYLVIA RAN TOWARDme as soon as I walked into the dining room where the rehearsal dinner was being held. The country club was small but grand, and even in the brand new rose-colored lace dress and nude pumps I was wearing, I felt underdressed. Sylvia hit me like a wall and I stumbled back with a smile as she hugged me. “You’re here!”
“I am.”
She pulled back, still holding my arms in her hands as she called out behind her. “Mom! Dad! B’s here!”
Sylvia was Jamie’s youngest sister, and the only one I’d really ever gotten close with. I’d met Santana a few times, mostly during holidays, but we’d never really connected the way Sylvia and I had. She still called me sometimes, and when I moved back from Alder, she helped Jenna keep me sane.
“So good to see you, sweetheart,” Rhonda, Jamie’s mom said as she moved in next, kissing my cheeks. “Isn’t it so great to see her, Wes?”
“It really is. How was your flight?” His dad asked next, throwing his arm over my shoulder to walk me over to the group gathered near a large table setting.
“A little bumpy getting out of the fog in Pittsburgh, but fine after that.” I smiled at both of them, my heart warming. For some reason it meant a lot to me that they remembered me, that they were excited to see me, that they seemed to care about me being in their son’s life.
Sylvia took my purse and dropped it at the table setting next to where she was sitting, grabbing my hand in a squeeze before scampering off again. And then, I realized it was quiet.
Everyone was staring at me. I wish I was exaggerating, but literally every eye was on me. I noticed Claire first, recognizing her from our short conversation in the bar the night I’d first seen Jamie and Angel together. Her eyes were narrowed, like it was clicking into place for her, and when I looked to the next person for relief, I didn’t find it. Because the next person over was Angel.
It was the first time I was really seeing her, since I’d avoided photos on social media. She was beautiful, which annoyed me, with bright blonde, pixie-cut hair and fluorescent green eyes that popped against her tan skin. She was taller than me, even in the heels I was wearing, and I tried standing a little straighter to compensate. Her short white dress wrapped high around her neck where a chunky gold necklace sat, and everything about her screamed regal. She was put together, sophisticated — like she belonged in that country club.
And I certainly did not.
She kept her eyes on me, mouth pursed, and I scanned the rest of the crowd staring me down unapologetically. They must have been her family. I was starting to panic, my chest tight and sweat beading on my neck when Jamie stepped through the door with three other guys — the groomsmen.
They all came in laughing, and when the silence hit them, Jamie must have felt me. He turned from his buddy he’d been talking to and his eyes locked on mine immediately. “Well look who made it.”
He was apparently oblivious to the death threats I was getting via eye laser beams because he crossed the room without a single hesitation, wrapped his arms around me, picked me up, and spun me twice before setting me back down. Then, he kissed my cheek, and threw his arm around my shoulder like his dad had.
“Looks like everyone is here now,” he said to the group, who was still staring at me — more specifically, at Jamie’s arm around me. “What’s first on the agenda, my beautiful bride?”
That question seemed to jolt life back into the room, and a few of Angel’s bridesmaids scurried off to grab provisions while Angel stepped forward. Her parents joined forces with Jamie’s behind her, but she was too busy forcing a smile to hear what anyone was saying.
“You must be B,” she said, lips as tight as the creases at her eyes. “I’m Angel. It’s so nice to finally meet you.” She thrust out her hand and I took it with an awkward smile. Jamie’s arm was still around me.
“Man, this must be heaven,” Jamie said, pulling her under the other arm. “My two favorite girls in one place. I’m the luckiest man alive.”
Angel sneered a little before popping on her fake smile again, and I tried to ignore the sinking feeling in my chest at his words. Shrugging out from his grasp, I cleared my throat and pointed to the table. “Are we eating first, Angel? Or do you need any help getting everyone rallied for the walk-through?”
“Well aren’t you a peach,” she said, and it was the first time I noted a hint of twang in her voice. “We’ll practice first, that way they have a little more time to finish the food. But don’t worry, I got this.” She winked up at Jamie and then put two delicate fingers between her lips and produced the loudest wolf whistle I’d ever heard. “People!”
The room stopped bustling as soon as she yelled, and my eyes widened along with Sylvia’s.
“Let’s do one quick walk-through outside before we sit down to eat. And I do mean quick. I also meanonce,so pay attention to Bailey and then we’ll have dinner and gifts.” She turned to a short, plump woman in dress slacks and a light pink polo then, who I assumed was Bailey. She clapped her hands together and started ushering us all to our positions, and I stopped by my purse to pop two ibuprofen before making my way outside.
So far, it was just as bad as I thought it’d be.
My headache turned out not to be my biggest issue. In fact, it was nausea, and it hit me as soon as I saw the look on Jamie’s face when Angel fake-walked down the aisle to him. Her bridesmaids were practically swooning out of their dresses because Jamie completely stole the show. He looked at her exactly like he should — like he couldn’t believe he was lucky enough to have her, like there was no one else in the world for him.
I felt so sick by the time we sat down to eat that it was physically impossible to even try. So, I pushed the food around on my plate as much as I could and took microscopic bites between conversation with Sylvia and Jamie’s parents. His older sister wouldn’t be in until the day of the wedding, but I was actually okay with it because the four of us were cracking each other up at our end of the table. It felt sort of split, the families, instead of united by a marriage. Jamie sat on the other end with Angel, her family, and the bridesmaids, while I sat with his family on my left and the groomsmen across from us.
Jamie was clearly the life of the party at the other end, and I could tell just in those two short hours that Angel’s family was smitten with him. Everyone was. Jamie was charming, he always had been, and I was pretty sure he could woo the panties off a nun if he really put his mind to it.
That didn’t make me feel any better, though.
Still, from time to time, when my eyes would skirt their way to that end of the table, I’d find his staring right back at me. He watched me as he tipped back his small tumbler of whiskey, poured neat. He found me when everyone laughed around him, as if I was what was grounding him to the room, to the present moment. Every time he looked at me, my stomach reacted, and I hated myself for it.
I didn’t know how to be Jamie’s friend. That was clear now more than ever.
“Alright, you rowdy bunch, simmer down,” Jamie said, standing with his whiskey firmly in hand. “The girls need to get to the airport, but before they go, we have a few gifts we’d like to give out.”
