EIGHTEEN
THERESA DIDN’T KNOW a dress fitting could be so intense, but there she was, holding two pieces of fabric together while Lucia, the seamstress, eyeballed the catastrophe that was occurring around Rain’s boob region. Everything should have zipped up snug, but there was definitely a pizza slice of space showing bare back that shouldn’t have been there.
“There is extra fabric,” Lucia said. “Enough, I think.”
“Well, it has to be enough. I don’t exactly have time to get a new dress, and it’s not like my proportions work with rack sizing.” Rain gestured at her padded hourglass figure. “I’m built like a Russian nesting doll. The big one on the outside; just add a waist.”
“No, no. Don’t fret, sweetheart. It’s all right. Are you wearing your hair up?”
“No, some up, some down—up on top, but the back will be down.”
“Good.” Lucia nodded, walking around Rain and eyeballing the dress. “Yes, that’s fine. If I have to sew a piece of lace in the back—and that’s a big if—it’ll be covered. You’re going to be beautiful.”
Rain looked like she was going to cry, so Lucia pulled her in for a hug, pressing Rain’s face to her neck twaddles, or whatever those wrinkles under old ladies’ chins were called.
“I’m just . . . it’s been a lot. Look.” Rain sniffled and pointed outside of the seamstress’s shop, at the sidewalk where photographers were trying to get past a solid line of man meat security. “I hate them. They’re like those seagulls from Finding Nemo. ‘Mine, mine, mine.’ Fuck you, seagull people.”
Hey. Sort of like my “Fuck you, swan” battle cry.
“Okay, okay, Rain. Easy,” Theresa said, guiding her friend off the stool she stood on and behind the changing screen. The delicate work of removing the wedding dress from the bride-to-be without jabbing her with holding pins proved challenging, but they managed to defrock her with limited ouchies. Theresa wrapped Rain in a soft robe, gently pulling her golden hair from under the navy blue terry cloth. Lucia motioned them to a pretty velvet couch in the corner of her shop.
“Sit her there. Tea, Rain?”
“Please. With sugar. And milk.”
“Of course. Theresa?”
“No, thank you. Got my iced coffee.”
Lucia nodded and fussed with the layers of taffeta in her hand. “Let me get this on the mannequin out back. I’ll be back with the tea in a few minutes. Your dress, too, Theresa, so we can see how it looks on you. The other bridesmaid already came in for her fitting.”
“Wait, other bridesmaid?” Admittedly Theresa had been off the grid with her photo shoots around Africa, but at no point had Rain mentioned a second bridesmaid in the party. It was supposed to just be the bride, groom, best man, and maid of honor.
Rain dabbed her nose on the shop’s bathrobe and nodded. “Oh, right. That. Dora’s in the wedding.”
Who? It doesn’t really matter, but it’d be nice to know who that is.
“Who’s Dora?”
Rain gestured at her halo of gold hair. “The blonde at the front desk? With the really big hair?”
“Oh, the mean one?” It was out before Theresa could think better of it and she scrambled for recovery. “Well, maybe she’s not mean. It’s just—”
“Oh, she’s mean. Just not to me. She’s very loyal. She threatened to put a maintenance man’s head in the garbage disposal for me a few weeks ago, so I invited her to be in the wedding party.”
“Oh. That’s . . . nice.”
Or terrifying.
“Well, then.” Theresa sank onto the couch at Rain’s side and squeezed her shoulder. “How are you holding up otherwise? Excited, I hope? We’ve got Maddy’s party tonight.”
Rain smiled and nodded, toying with the heart on her jeweled collar. “I am, but . . . okay, I’m going to tell you a thing and I don’t want you to judge me or whatever. Please?”
“Of course I wouldn’t. You’re my best friend.”
“Oh, good. It’s just, you know . . . one of those things.”
Theresa nodded and smiled. Rain sucked in a breath.
“I’m pregnant.”
Holy shit.
“Oh,” she said, wishing she had something more poignant to offer. “Wow! Okay!”
I did not expect that, but maybe I should have. The tiredness. The boobs in the dress thing. Heck, a fitting now is cutting it super close as it is, but if she knew she was putting on weight . . .
Okay, okay. Play it cool.
Theresa did her best to recover, forcing a smile though she wasn’t sure if this was good news or not. Rain’s expression was hard to read. “Are you okay?”
Rain looked down at her lap, swinging her feet back and forth, her heels striking the couch front and bouncing off. It cast an illusion of youth on her that was very much at odds with the whole impending wedding day and baby thing. “I am, especially since I’ve known for six weeks already. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything but . . . I didn’t know how to, especially not at first. I was on the pill! But apparently I missed a few or Sol’s got super sperm or something. I can’t drink tonight, and I don’t really want to tell anyone why. It’s right before the wedding and the press is already going nuts. Imagine how it’d be if someone slipped that there’s a Barrington oops-a-baby.” Rain paused to glance out at the scramble on the sidewalk. “That’s why we were so adamant we got married this week. It would have made more sense just to move the wedding date out and rebook, but we knew I’d be showing sooner rather than later, so we wanted to get it done. So, surprise! You’re going to be an auntie!”
Theresa’s smile went more genuine as she pulled Rain into a hug, settling her chin on her friend’s shoulder. “You’re going to be just fine. We’ll figure tonight out—we’ll tell Maddy you’re on medication and can’t drink, and if she doesn’t like it, we’ll feed her to Dora. You’re happy, I hope?”
“Yes! Oh yes. I am. And Sol’s beside himself. He’s so excited. I just . . . I really want to get through the wedding day. It’ll be good to have it over with so when the news of the baby breaks, there’s one less thing for them to criticize. My mother will probably have a field day.”
Theresa pulled back, holding each of Rain’s hands in her own.
“As I draw breath, no one will shit on your wedding cake. Not today, not tomorrow. Not the press seagulls outside. Not your mother. This is your happiness. This is your new husband and your new baby. You will be happy, Rain. I’ll make sure of it.”
“You’re the best,” Rain said, pulling Theresa into a perfumed embrace.
“No, you,” Theresa replied, only somewhat suffocating in baby-swollen Barrington boobs.
“The first order of business, ladies—” Maddy started to say.
“Beer.” Dora reached into the Styrofoam cooler she’d brought with her to offer everyone in the limousine a sample from her vast and varied collection of spirits. In attendance was Maddy, Maddy’s personal assistant, Patrice, Rain, Theresa, Dora, and Lorelai, the green-haired, tattoo-covered driver of The Seaside who was not behind the wheel this time but behind the privacy divide. Their driver was some guy named Tom who’d leered a little too long at Maddy and Theresa both for Theresa to like him much.
“Ha! No, thank you, dove,” Maddy said when Dora tried to hand her a can. “I’m a champagne kind of girl.”
Dora tried to give one to Rain, but remembering Theresa’s quiet aside—the one she’d given all of the girls before the party that Rain was on medication and couldn’t drink—she bypassed her and handed it to Theresa. Theresa eyed the can, saw that it wasn’t an IPA, and cracked it open.
“Now then, as I was saying.” Maddy winked at Dora. “I have gift bags for you all so that we can properly commemorate kitten’s pre-Sol life.” Maddy gestured at Patrice. The dark-skinned, shock-blond woman in the loud flower print shirt and black leggings opened up an enormous canvas bag by her side, distributing hot pink paper bags with black tissue paper and glittery name tags. Everyone started pawing through.
And then everyone started pulling out dicks. Personalized ones. Theresa’s was a decent-sized red vibrator with her name scrawled across the side in fancy script. Dora got royal blue, Lorelai got a green that matched her hair, Patrice got baby pink, and the bride herself got a silver chrome one with Mrs. DuMont written in black.
“Yours is white gold, Rain. I figured you could start your own dick gallery.”
“It’s beautiful, Maddy. Thank you! I’ve never had a golden dick before!” Rain was apparently overcome by Maddy’s kindness as she reached over to bear hug the brunette beside her, the shiny penis toy jabbing at their chins. Maddy swatted it away, laughing. Rain was oblivious.
“No, most people haven’t, dove, but we’ve fixed that now.”
Theresa stared at the toy in her hand, a bit shocked by the turn of events. She was even more shocked when everyone began pulling out coordinating handcuffs, three different types of lube—a regular one, a fruity one, and a tingly one—and a rubbery-looking door-stop thing. She was rolling the doorstop around in her hand, trying to figure out what it was, when Lorelai said, “Cool. Free butt plug with every bachelorette party.”
Butt plug?
Oh my God.
Theresa stuffed her prizes back into her bag, her face on fire.
“It’s reasonably sized!” Maddy reached for Patrice’s pink one, flourishing it against her palm, Maddy suddenly the Vanna White of ass play. “And pure silicon. You can boil them. I give my friends only the best anal toys.”
The rest of the party seemed to agree, as they were examining each and every deviance they pulled from their bags. Beneath the smutty stuff were other goodies, too—gift certificates for a New Orleans boutique, new iPhones, platinum charms with Rain and Sol’s wedding date on it—but Theresa was so scandalized by the naughtiness on top that she didn’t delve further into her party favors. She let the others do that, using her fellow partiers as a safety against perversions unknown.
A butt plug. I can’t even . . .
Well. I mean, there was that one time with Scott, but that didn’t involve a butt plug.
Her face went hotter. A glance at the window proved her skin matched her hair.
Maddy continued. “All right, so, our first order of business is massages and pedicures at a spa overlooking the Mississippi. Then we get a fresh clambake riverside, and we end our decadent, sinful night with Pierre, Jason, and Raymond in a private loft called The Kitten’s Den, which seemed apropos, all things considered. I asked Darren if he’d unretire his Velcro pants for us, but he says his unmentionables are mine and mine alone now. Sorry, my darlings. I did try, though.”
“It’s probably for the best,” Rain admitted. “Remember that time he climbed out of the pool and I walked into the refreshment stand? I nearly needed stitches.”
“Poor kitten.” Maddy leaned over to place a kiss on top of her head. “You’re too pretty to ruin your face.”
“Frankly, I’d rather stare at people I don’t have to check into the hotel tomorrow or ever. Eye contact is awkward when you’ve seen their franks and beans,” Dora said.
Lorelai tapped her can against Dora’s. “Amen.”
Franks and beans?
Theresa looked confused. “Wait, what franks and beans are we staring at?”
“Stripper giblets,” Dora said, glugging her beer. “And if Maddy picked them, I’m sure they’re top grade.”
“As opposed to what, discount strippers?” Theresa asked. “There are grades of strippers?”
Dora smirked. Lorelai smirked. Rain and Patrice smirked. Maddy burst into annoying peals of laughter.
Oh God. What have I gotten myself into?
She reached into her purse, pulled out her phone, and texted Alex.
Thinking of you. Hope your night is less weird than mine.