Page 29 of Thoroughly Pucked

“Me, too, but I swear I’ll be okay. Apparently, he was flirting with the waitress at his bachelor party, so it’s all for the best.” I resist adding anything more. I’m not sureI want to tell her I was having doubts myself. Nascent, unformed ones, but doubts, nonetheless. If I confess to second thoughts, she’ll ask why, and then she’ll dig, and I might say, “I wanted to make Dad happy.”

Then she’d be sad all over again.

Best just to let her think I’m the tough, brave girl she’s always seen in me.

“I brought the veil back,” I say, carefully chipper. I gesture to the front of the house where I left the bag holding the veil. I hand-washed it last night, and it’s safe and sound with her. The ring is back at my apartment in the Mission, the tiny one-bedroom I leased a few months ago since it’s close to my Hayes Valley salon. Aiden was going to move in once we were married. He honestly never got around to it beforehand. Too busy with the pie shop an hour away, he said. In retrospect, maybe it was a subconscious choice we both made tonotmerge our lives.

I guess hindsight really is twenty-twenty.

“I’m glad it’s back where it belongs,” I say, chipper, just like I was when she and Dad gave each other the silent treatment during those years when their marriage was on the rocks.

“You can wear it when you m—” She breaks off, catching herself before she starts planning mynextwedding, and shakes her head. “Well, you have fun. I’m glad those boys are going with you. I always liked them. Let me know if you need anything.” She runs a hand down my hair. “Not that I can give you beauty tips anymore. In a few short years, you’re better than I ever was.”

“Oh, stop. You’re an amazing stylist too.” I give her a final goodbye, and after thirty minutes that felt like forever, I peel away from her and head out to my car.

Relieved to have that uncomfortable conversation behind me, I take a moment before I start the car to finish a bunch of emails I wrote last week to clients. I send each one a personalized happy birthday email, making sure to check in on life details they shared while I did their hair—the new TV show they started binging, their aunt’s hip surgery, their boyfriend’s new job.

With that done, I head to Doctor Insomnia’s near Novato to meet Ivy and Trina. They texted to tell me they had a honeymoon present for me, and when I reach the coffee shop, they’re already at a table outside with their goodest boys and girls. Trina’s three-legged rescue pup Nacho sits dutifully at her feet, checking out the dogs walking by. Ivy’s tiny senior girl, Roxy, is staring longingly at the vanilla latte Ivy’s drinking.

“Hey, bestie,” Trina says, thrusting a cup at me when I sit in the empty chair. It’s my fave—a mango smoothie.

I take a fueling drink, then I don’t waste a second. They get to know the full truth. “I didn’t want to marry him in the first place. I was having mega doubts for the last few weeks. They were so strong I was literally about to tell you before he burst into the bridal room, and maybe he kinda did me a favor? But I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner. Forgive me?”

Trina’s smile disappears. “Seriously?”

Shit. She’s mad? “You’re annoyed?”

“No! You seriously think I’d be mad?” She thumps me playfully on the temple. “I think it’s great. Sometimes the universe does you a favor, and your dog barfs up a pair of panties.” That’s how she learned her ex was cheating—the thong in question wasn’t hers. “You’re the best snitch,” she tells the panty-loving pup, stroking his head.

Ivy sets her chin in her hand. “Or your boss posts a photo of herself, your ex-boyfriend, and a fake blow job.”

I laugh, feeling guilt-free at last. “Or your almost groom says he wants to be your fuck buddy.”

We lift our drinks to toast. When Trina sets down her ceramic mug, her green eyes are sparkling. “And you know what you do next?”

I shake my head. I know whatshedidnext—had a VIP experience with two hot hockey stars.

So, correction: I shake my headvehemently. “That is not happening. We are not having a threesome.”

Ivy chuckles. “Bet it happens before Trina and I even go to the Amelia Stone concert,” she adds, gesturing to Trina and asking with her eyesam I right?

Trina nods. “Definitely.”

“You’re placing bets already?” But of course they are. Funny, I’m not jealous that I’ll miss that concert because of my honeymoon. I was a little jealous before.

“Well, it’s not like you’re going to last till Thursday,” Trina says, matter-of-factly. “That’s my bang prediction.”

I double-thump her head now. “I will last the whole trip. I will last forever.”

My friends give exaggerated nods, and Trina adds, “But just in case, I got you a gift.” She reaches into a canvas bag and hands me…a bottle of cherry-flavored lube. “It’s a double honeymoon present.”

I roll my eyes, but I take it since she’s insisting. And I get where she’s coming from. I gave her one when she moved in with her two hockey heroes for a week that turned into forever. “I won’t use it.”

“Want to bet on it?” Trina counters.

Ivy smiles slyly. I’m pretty sure Roxy does, too, as Ivy says, “I’ll double down on that bet.”

“There will be no doubling down,” I insist.

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