Futures and Frosting
I cross my arms in front of me in protest and roll my eyes as Jenny’s incessant chatter rings in my ears like an annoying cow bell.
“These parents need to come out here and get their kids. What happens if one of them catches the bouquet? Will someone tell them to give it back? This is like, a really important thing. They’re not opposed to be out here.”
I sighed and scan the crowd looking for Carter, hoping to get a smile of encouragement from him to brave this storm. He would feel my pain and know how miserable I am in this moment, surrounded by crazies.
As my eyes move through the sea of people standing around watching, Liz is handed the microphone and with her back to the single women, she begins her countdown.
“5, 4, 3, 2, 1!”
Finally, my eyes lock on Carter standing not far from Liz. The corners of my mouth begin curling up when a sudden blur of activity around me causes my focus to wane. Heels are flying, taffeta is swirling, and women are going down like dominoes. I unfold my arms to move away from the chaos when the bouquet Liz throws drops down into my hands like a gift from the heavens.
All movement on the floor around me stops and the pile of wrestling women stare up at me with reverence like I hold the Holy Grail in my palms. I have the strongest urge to spike it to the ground like a football and get as far away from it as possible.
I don’t know what scared me more. The fact that the impulse to get rid of the bouquet disappears as quickly as it comes and I find myself cradling the flowers like a baby out of fear that someone will try to take them from me, or the look of sheer horror on Carter’s face when my eyes find his again.
14. Porn and Snozzberries
My best friend has been gone on her honeymoon for a week and I feel lost. I need someone to talk to. I’m sure I could have called her if it was an emergency, but trying to explain to her that I think Carter thinks I want to get married and I think it’s got him freaked out while she’s lying on a beach in Maui would probably be wrong.
“Hey, Liz! How’s the honeymoon? Oh that’s wonderful! Speaking of wonderful, I think Carter is afraid I want to get married, so I’ve been trying to let him know I don’t really want to get married when secretly it’s all I can think about but it scares the holy f**king hell out of me.”
Yeah, that makes perfect sense.
All I’ve been able to think about for the past few days is the look on Carter’s face when I catch the bouquet. He looks like he did the day he met Gavin and got kicked in the nuts. And who knows what the hell my problem is. Suddenly I'm crying during an episode of “A Wedding Story” on TLC and thinking the bride is totally justified in refinancing her house to pay for a third wedding dress with the Swarovski crystals on “Bridezillas”.
I had woke up the other day at four in the morning because I didn’t want Carter to know I set the DVR so I could see if the girl from New Jersey on “My Fair Wedding” let her fiancé dress up like a Yeti and sing John Denver songs at the rehearsal dinner. Carter came home from work a few minutes early and I jumped up from the couch in shock and turned off the television as fast as I could.
“Hey, what are you doing up?” Carter asked. He set his work bag down on the floor and walked over to the middle of the living room to pick up the blanket I dumped on the floor in my haste to shut off the TV.
“Um…uh…nothing. I wasn’t watching anything,” I stammered, looking nervously back and forth between the TV and Carter.
He raised an eyebrow at me and looked down at the remote in my hand where my finger was still poised above the power button.
His eyes slowly moved back up to my face that was now covered in a thin sheen of sweat from my nerves going haywire. I could feel my cheeks heating up and knew he must be wondering why they were turning red if I had nothing to hide.
He was going to know I recorded “Say Yes to the Dress: Atlanta”. I couldn’t just be happy with Kleinfeld’s. Oh no, I had to get greedy and see what people bought from Bridals by Lori.
Carter turned to look at the TV again and then back to me, his eyes suddenly going wide.
“Oh my gosh. Claire, were you watching-”
“No!” I interrupted him. “I wasn’t watching anything.”
I laughed nervously and looked down at the remote in my hand, chucking it onto the couch so fast you would have thought it burned me.
“Holy hell…yes you were,” he said as he stared at me in awe.
I had no idea what was going on but if he was this happy that he caught me watching the wedding channel then maybe we didn’t have as big a problem as I thought.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to be embarrassed. It’s actually kind of hot.”
I looked at Carter like he was insane. And maybe he was. Maybe working all these late nights finally got to him. While I stood there half awake in my yoga pants and tank top, hair all askew, face flushed and embarrassed, he stared me up and down like he wanted to devour me. I had started to ask him what he was talking about and why he was looking at me that way when it had suddenly occurred to me. Four in the morning and I had been sitting in the living room under a blanket all alone looking like I just had a very fulfilling romp in the hay…with myself.
“OH MY GOD! You think I was watching-”
“Honey, really, it’s fine! You don’t have to be freaked out. Everyone watches a little p**n now and then. I just wish you would have waited for me,” he said with a leer.
So there’s that. My boyfriend thinks I’m a closet p**n watcher, that I sit alone in the dark while he’s at work every night watching Skinemax and diddling myself. There’s something wrong with me if I’d rather he think I had a p**n addiction than a deep seeded need to find out if David Tutera could turn a camo, guns, and ATV wedding into a masterpiece.