My Big Fat Fake Honeymoon

So I swallow my questions and let Claire’s watery-eyed smile bloom. I won’t take that away from her. I won’t mar this day with unfounded concerns. That’s the right thing to do . . . right?

Claire looks to her circle of friends, who all seem truly relaxed now that the bouquet crisis has been handled.

“I couldn’t have done any of this without you guys. You were there to talk me into going out with Cole, celebrated with me when he proposed, and will be there to support me when I say ‘I do’ to forever with him.” She sniffles and fans her face, trying to stop the tears from spilling over.

“And stash tissues,” Madison offers as she pulls one from her cleavage. Claire takes it without hesitation. That’s a real friendship there, boob sweat and all. The group of women all hug in one big pile as they talk, laugh, and cry about how they’ll always be there for one another, no matter what.

Claire continues to look around the room, “And Holly, thank you for my hair. It’s perfect. And Dominique, my makeup makes me feel so beautiful. You two have made me your canvas. And Meredith . . .” Her voice catches.

Ugh. Meredith has done a good job, I’ll begrudgingly admit that. But I can’t help that it’ll make my stomach turn to hear Claire waxing poetic about what an amazing wedding planner Meredith is.

“I was so excited to work with Beth and had done so much to plan everything with her. That poor thing had to deal with all my Pinterest boards and whittle all that craziness down to specifics.” Claire shakes her head like she can hardly believe what she put Beth through. “And I was so sad when she couldn’t come . . . I mean, happy for her! Of course, happy for her. But it felt like this thing we’d planned wasn’t going to be the same without her. But then you stepped in, filled Beth’s big shoes, and you’ve done everything to make those dreams come true. I know it hasn’t been an easy job. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.”

Claire says it so sincerely, so earnestly, that I would absolutely believe her purity of heart except that then she turns to me and there’s a fresh glint in her eye. If it were Janey, I’d think she was saying ‘I got you, bitch’, but this is Claire, the internet’s All-American sweetheart.

“And Abi . . .”

I freeze, forcing a plastic smile to my face.

“Or Flower Girl, as I hear Meredith call you,” she says with the smallest laugh, as if that’s utterly ridiculous. “You are so much more than that, though. You’re an artist who uses flowers as your medium. Thank you for sharing your talent with me.”

I’m touched, truly and deeply, that Claire gets what I do. Not many people do.

But while I’m floating with the happy fizz of such a feel-good compliment, Meredith looks like she sucked on a lime and followed it up with a string of black licorice. I guess Claire did take the wind out Meredith’s sails a bit, making it pretty obvious that she was a back-up, stand-in planner for who Claire really wanted. It was complimentary in a way, but not nearly the same glowing love she gave the rest of us.

“I hear I missed out on the cutest dog ever,” I blurt out, “so I wanted to bring you this. A little extra touch.” I hold out the flower-decked ribbon.

Claire squeals in delight as she grabs for it. “Oh, my gosh! It’s adorable!” She delicately runs a pink-tipped finger over the ribbon and then laughs boisterously. “Did you say ‘cutest dog’?”

I nod with a polite smile.

“Sock is cute, no doubt about that, but he’s an utter beast. I’m still working on teaching him manners.” As if the dog knows Claire is talking about him, he wakes up and bounces around in the kennel a bit, letting out a pitiful whine. Claire wiggles her fingers through the wires, and Sock settles, but not before I see why his name is Sock and not Socks. He’s a white fluff of mop, but he’s got one brown foot. “You want the pretty collar, baby?” Claire coos. “Tell Abi thank you.”

This seems like a good time for me to get back downstairs and check on Janey. The bouquet crisis is managed, Sock has a new chew toy, and I got a little ego boost from Claire’s sweet compliments. “Excuse me, I need to get back downstairs if everything’s good up here?”

Madison flashes me a thumbs-up, and I run for the door before anything else can happen. I swear I feel daggers stabbing me in the back as I go though, and I’m pretty sure Meredith is shooting them with her eyes.