1
Harmony
“This fucking dress won’t fit!” I groaned as I turned around and tried to pull the zipper up my back.
“Hold on, let me try.” My best friend, Gina, walked over and started trying to tug on it, grunting as she did.
“I’m going to lay down on the bed. That should help.” I pulled up the train and walked over to the edge of the bed. “Okay, go.”
Through might and sheer willpower, Gina managed to get my size ten frame in a size nine dress. She was better than diet and exercise, although I had been doing a little better in those departments. Once the dress was zipped, I tried to stand and felt the threads popping. It sounded like pop rocks in a soda can for a moment, but then they subsided, and I was able to take a step without feeling the fabric protest. I pushed my feet into my high heel shoes, balanced on them, and then smiled. The mirror reflected perfection. It was exactly what I needed if I was going to endure my sister’s wedding with class—well, the open bar was definitely going to help.
“Come on, we’re dangerously close to being beyond fashionably late.” Gina grabbed my arm and started marching towards the door. “I’m pretty sure they don’t appreciate it when you come in while the bride is being escorted down the aisle.”
“You act like I’m your plus one.” I laughed and followed her out the door.
“I’m just trying to prevent another family scandal. You know how your sister is—she’s a fucking bridezilla.” Gina punched the button on the elevator.
“I prefer bitch. I don’t even know how we’re related.” I opened my purse and pulled out a mirror to check my makeup one last time.
“Do we need to have the birds and the bees talk again?” Gina pouted her lips and mocked me in a baby voice. “Does little Harmony need to know how babies are made?”
“Shut up, Gina.” I punched her in the arm and watched her stumble in her heels.
“Now who’s being a bitch?” She grumbled and glared at me as the elevator doors opened.
“The Uber is outside. They’re going to charge us extra if we don’t hurry.” I motioned for Gina to follow me as I left the elevator.
“You’re the one that made us late in the first place!” She huffed as she trailed along behind me.
We climbed in the back of the Uber and then we were on our way to my sister’s wedding. Ms. Fucking Perfect. Soon to be Mrs. Fucking Perfect. I had spent my life living in my younger sister’s shadow and it was going to be another one of those days. She was the one getting married, but everyone would be asking when it was my turn. I heard it at my cousin’s wedding, my aunt’s second wedding, and every other Christmas when we went to Chicago to spend it with relatives. It had been their favorite topic of conversation since I graduated from high school. I had school as an excuse while I was in college, but once I graduated and got a job, I started to run out of them.
It’s so easy for her, but not quite so simple for me.
It wasn’t like I didn’t want to fall in love. I had dreamed of that since I gave Barbie and Ken dream weddings galore as a child. I always assumed the natural order of things I heard about would happen when they were supposed to. Things just didn’t happen that way. I loved music, so instead of pom-poms, I picked up a flute. All the stories they tell you about what happens at band camp don’t actually happen—at least not at the ones I went to. It was just a bunch of music nerds awkwardly sitting around wondering who would make the first move. The only ones getting frisky were the counselors.
I might as well have been invisible once my sister made it to high school. The only Carmichael girl the boys cared about was her—hell, she was the only girl most of them cared about regardless of the last name. College had been a little better. I had a few dates, one that definitely seemed to be going somewhere with a guy named Connor, but then he vanished. I even tried looking online, exploring some dark fantasies that would never see the light of day—things that were fun to think about, but could never be reality. Reality was in front of me. Reality was my sister’s wedding—her happily ever after while my misery churned on.
“Okay, we made it into the church before the bride. At least we’re not too late.” Gina looked around once we were inside. “Do you want to sit by your mom?”
“Nah, I’m good in the back.” I motioned for Gina to follow me and we took a seat near the door. “It’ll be easier to get out before I have to deal with relatives if we sit here.”
“There’s still the reception.” She raised her eyebrows and shrugged. “You can’t avoid them forever.”
“I’ll have a couple of drinks in me by then.” I nodded quickly.
The bridal march started and I stood. I planted a smile on my face and watched as my sister walked down the aisle arm-in-arm with my father. She did make a beautiful bride. She made a beautiful everything. I wasn’t even pretty enough to stand on the stage and support her. I was fairly certain she had picked the prettiest girls she knew to be her bridesmaids—all one notch below her. She was marrying a wonderful guy that seemed to love her with all of his heart. I could smile for him at least, because he deserved his happily ever after. He seemed to have a calming effect on my sister, which was definitely a good thing. I hoped what they had was forever. At least that would make the years of living in her shadow worth it.
God damn it, I said wasn’t going to cry.
Once the wedding got started, the tears ran down my face. My disappointment in my own life didn’t need to take anything away from their moment. They seemed to be perfect for each other. I just wished I had that kind of love—a man that looked at me the way he looked at her. When the ceremony was over, I took my turn to congratulate the new couple and headed to the reception hall. It was a short walk from the church, which meant people arrived fairly quickly. I grabbed a martini and chugged it before enough eyes were on me to cast judgment. I was ready to simply blend into the scenery for a long as possible, but I knew the relatives would eventually turn their attention on me like a pack of wolves.
“So, when will it be your turn? Do you have a boyfriend? Are you going to try and catch the bouquet?” Aunt Linda sat down beside me. “And you—you’re Gina, right? Are you married? Do you have any kids?”