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[2013] Note to Self- Change the Locks Page 18
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Page 18
“I like it,” I found myself saying defensively. No you don’t, Elizabeth! What the hell is wrong with you? “I think I found my dress.” No, no, no, idiot! What are you doing? Don’t end up with this nightmare just to spite Nora!
Sally sneered victoriously at Nora while my mother stared in shock. “Do you really like it, honey?” Mom asked with skepticism.
“Well, she needs to try on the other dresses we chose before she makes a decision,” Sally announced. “It is mandatory that everyone tries on a minimum of five gowns before they are allowed to make a decision.”
I breathed a sigh of relief and thought at the same time, What is this? Grammar school? Brides can’t be treated like logical adults? Then I realized, brides aren’t logical adults. They’re crazy, detail-obsessed lunatics, and now that I was a bride, I was destined to become just like that.
Hiking up the gown, I shuffled back into the dressing area with Sally and the assistants bringing up the rear. I held my arms up obediently as they unzipped, unbuckled, un-bustled and whatever else before pulling the gown over my head in one motion.
I stood there, half naked, with my teeth chattering as they prepared the next gown and then dropped it over my head. I glanced down after resurfacing from the tulle mess and thought dejectedly, Wow, this is actually even more hideous than the first gown. Biting my bottom lip, I kept silent while Deena and Yvonne fastened every snap, willing myself to ignore the puffy sleeves and high collar. One of the girls grabbed the collar tighter, nearly choking me in the process, yet I didn’t say a word.
“To the floor,” Sally ordered once the girls were done prepping the horror show. I obediently trotted out to be checked out by my audience, staring down at the soft snowy carpet the entire time. I couldn’t bear to see the look on my mother’s face and I was sure that Nora would definitely vocalize her opinion.
Indeed she did as I heard, “Yeah okay, go take that piece of shit off.”
To which Sally abruptly replied, “That foul language is not welcome in this shop, ma’am.”
I glanced up to see Nora pull a bottle of wine out of one of her shopping bags and take a sip directly from it. “Yeah well fuck you then, cuz it’s a free fucking country.”
Sally gasped as if someone had stabbed her in the eyeball with an ice pick. The “I just walked into a bathroom where someone had explosive diarrhea” expression was completely frozen on her face.
Nora got to her feet and took another enormous sip of her wine. “Yeah that’s right, bitch. Your taste sucks,” says the woman drinking a bottle of two dollar wine directly from the bottle.
I scanned Sally’s face and then my mother’s. Sally was still in shock from the curse words and my mother looked equally mortified. She was desperately tugging at Nora’s sleeve and begging her to sit back down. “For God’s sakes be quiet.” I heard her hiss. My mother, despite our rambunctious family gatherings which she normally remained oblivious throughout, was obviously quite embarrassed by this public outburst.
“You can’t drink in here,” Sally exclaimed, still wearing an expression of astonishment on her face. Actually, it looked more like the look one has when sucking on sour lemons.
“Have some wine. Maybe it’ll help you relax and take that stick out of your ass,” Nora told the salesgirl while shoving the bottle toward her.
Sally crossed her arms across her chest and glared at Nora. My mother flushed about ten different shades of red as she desperately tried to get Nora to sit and put the bottle away.
“See, Nora, you can’t drink in here.” Mom sounded frantic as she continued to jerk on my friend’s sleeve.
“You have some, too, Elise. You know you want it,” Nora taunted my mother as she waved the bottle under her nose.
“Nora, we can have a drink with lunch if you’d like,” my mother pleaded while ignoring the bottle. “You’re coming to lunch with us, aren’t you?”
Nora shot me an icy glare. “I don’t know. Am I coming to lunch with you? It depends on whether or not Elizabeth can fit me in her ‘oh so busy schedule’ today.”
“For God’s sakes, Nora! I told you. I had to work on the novel you told me to write. I finally started on it and you wanted me to stop. You don’t make any sense.”
“Why did you have to do it right then? On our night? Why couldn’t you do it some other night? God knows, all you have is time!”
My mother’s head was swiveling back and forth in between Nora and me as we argued. Not to mention, quite a crowd of salesgirls and other patrons had gathered. Yet nobody was stepping in to stop our squabble.
“Now that’s not true, Nora,” my mother exclaimed. “Elizabeth has been very busy with her wedding plans and working—”
“Ha! Working on what? Her novel that she can’t seem to write?” Nora snorted, causing the wine to come out of her nose. She wiped it with the back of her hand.
“Nora,” I directed a warning glance toward her. She knew my mother had no idea I lost my job.
“No. Her job at the magazine, Nora. She’s trying to get a promotion,” my mother remarked in a ‘don’t you know anything’ tone.
Nora cackled, “Oh yeah that big deal editor job? Ask Elizabeth how that’s going.” With a smug expression, she turned to me.
My mother also turned to look at me. “Is something wrong at work, dear?” she questioned nervously.
If looks could kill, Nora would have been buried ten feet under right then. “Well, Mom, I…” I picked at my cuticles to avoid the wounded look on her face. I knew my mother thought I shared everything with her. The fact that I had concealed my unemployment would definitely disappoint her.
“She lost her job,” Nora interrupted. She took a final sip from the bottle and then shook it upside down, looking for one more drop. Thank goodness there was none to fall out onto the white carpet.
My mother recoiled like Nora had slapped her across the face. “Is this true, Elizabeth?” Mom whispered, nearly inaudibly.
I nodded, not sure if I was more embarrassed about losing my job, or keeping it a secret from my mother.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” my mother asked in the tone of a wounded little girl.
I shrugged as I gazed down at the beads on my sleeve. “I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me.”
My mother shook her head as she took my face into her hands. “Oh, dear, I could never be disappointed in you.”
“Not even for her crappy choice in first husbands?” Nora asked with a snort.
“Thank you, Nora,” I growled as I turned to her. “Why are you being so mean today?”
Nora shot me a sanctimonious sneer. “Why were you so selfish last week? I told you I needed you and you blew me off to write. I don’t understand why you couldn’t have waited till later that night.”
“That’s when the ideas came to me! I had to get them down in the laptop!” I shouted back.
“You could have put them on your stupid sticky notes. Along with all the other ideas that won’t ever amount to anything.”
My mother gasped and finally Sally stepped in. “You need to leave. Go and take that dress off this instant. This behavior is unacceptable here.” She stepped back, allowing me to pass, but I barely noticed her as I glowered at a smug-faced Nora.
“To answer your question, of course you can come to lunch with us,” I remarked with fake sweetness.
“How nice of you,” Nora replied, her voice heavy with sarcasm, as she slumped back down on the couch.
Fighting the intense desire to scream at her, I tried to maintain my dignity by turning on my heel and heading to the dressing room. Unfortunately, my dignity had better ideas and my foot caught in the hem of the lengthy dress, causing me to fall flat on my face.
I heard Nora roaring with laughter at the same time my mother helped me to my feet. I smiled at her appreciatively as I whispered, “Thanks, Mom. Sorry about Nora. She’s really being difficult today.”
“I can see that. What happened between the two of you?” Mo
m asked as she walked me back to the changing area. Sally was still too dumbstruck from Nora’s comments to oppose my mother accompanying me.
“I really have no idea,” I told her as she closed the curtains. She motioned for me to turn around so she could unzip my dress.
“Such a shame,” my mother clucked as she carefully lifted the dress over my head.
“Why?” I asked when I was extracted from the material from hell. “Why is it a shame?”
“Well, you two were such good friends,” my mother explained, handing me my jeans that had been magically returned to the dressing room.
Balancing on one leg, I tugged my jeans on. “We’re still friends, Mom. She’s just drunk right now.”
“She said awful things, Elizabeth.” Mom handed me my tank top.
I shrugged apathetically before pulling the shirt over my head. “It’s what she does. And I forgive her and we move on.”
My mother was frowning when I pulled my head through the neck of my shirt. “You shouldn’t put up with that.
Once again, I shrugged. “It’s just the way we do things, Mom. She’s been my friend for so long, I couldn’t imagine life without her.” As much as I hated the way Nora treated me, she was really one of my only true friends. If she was willing to be my friend through thick and thin, I could put up with a little abuse, couldn’t I?
Hands on my shoulders, Mom stared at me for a moment before she sighed and kissed my forehead. She smelled of butterscotch and syrup. A memory of her doing the exact same thing, smelling the exact same way, sprung to mind.
I was eleven and had just gotten braces. My so-called best friend at the time, Jeanine Roberts, decided she didn’t want to be friends with me any longer since I had a mouth full of metal and started a campaign against me at lunchtime. I was hurt. At that point in my life, I had never experienced such wicked betrayal. My mother had been my rock that day, comforting me like she had when I was an even younger child, frightened of thunderstorms.
“Well you deserve a better friend than that. Someone who builds you up and doesn’t say hurtful things,” Mom was saying.
“I have someone just like that,” I explained as pulled on my hoodie. “I have you.”
My mother beamed as she dragged me close to her for an embrace. “Oh I love you, Elizabeth.”
“I love you, too, Mom,” I told her. And I did. She was the only person who wasn’t making me batty, for once.
Parting the curtain, we stepped into the waiting area to find Nora conked out on the couch.
My mother glanced at me. “Should we just leave her here?”
I grinned evilly. “No, I have a better idea. She wanted lunch. Let’s go get lunch.” I rubbed my hands together like the villain in a cartoon.
“Oh, you are bad. I don’t even know what you’re going to do, but I can tell that it’s malicious,” my mother remarked with a smile.
“Now Mother, you never taught me to be mean,” I commented as I reached for Nora’s right arm.
“You must have gotten that trait from your father,” Mom remarked with a chuckle. She tucked her hand under Nora’s left arm. “Are we pulling her up?”
I nodded as we easily yanked Nora’s a hundred and fifteen pound body to its feet. “Wah?” Nora sleepily responded.
“Let’s go, Nora!” I practically shouted in her ear.
My mother, taking my cue, screamed in her other ear, “We’re going to get lunch!”
Nora covered both of her ears with her hands. “Stop shouting! Why are you guys so loud?”
“Why? Does it bother you?” I continued to shout.
Nora nodded, hands still clasped to her ears.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I’ll just whisper from now on,” I mumbled inaudibly.
Nora removed her hands from her ears and leaned down toward me. “Huh?”
“We’re going to lunch,” I muttered, winking at my mother, who was giggling behind Nora’s back.
“I can’t hear you, Elizabeth.” Nora stomped her foot. “Stop whispering.”
I threw my free hand up in the air. “Geez, will you make up your mind? First I’m too loud, then, I’m too quiet.”
I started strolling to the shop door, which Sally was holding open. She was frowning and tapping her foot impatiently. Slinking past her, I threw an apologetic wave in her direction.
Once we were out on the street, though, I whirled around to face Nora, who was shielding her eyes from the offensive sun. “So where do you want to go to lunch, Nora?”
“Ugh, I think I’ll pass on lunch. The street is spinning.”
I grabbed her arm. “Oh no, you can’t blow me off for a hangover. You wanted to go to lunch, we’re going to lunch.” I winked at my mother following up the rear. She was still trying to stifle her laughter.
“I really just want to go lay down—” Nora moaned as she clutched her head.
I ignored her as I pointed. “Let’s go there!” It was Poppy’s Diner, one of the noisiest places in the city. Not only was it constantly filled with business people and tourists, part of the ambiance was the clattering pots and pans. Every time something fell, the wait staff would burst into song.
Nora shook her head vehemently. “Not there, Elizabeth. Too loud.”
“Too bad. You were too loud when I was trying to get my wedding dress. My turn.” I yanked her toward the crosswalk despite her protests.
It was actually kind of fun. I had never completely taken control of Nora before. She was the one who made up all the rules and told me what to do. And I followed her like an obedient little lapdog all the time.
As I pushed open the heavy glass door to the diner, the cowbells hanging from the door boisterously announced our arrival. The waiters were finishing up singing along with the jukebox and a thunderous round of applause erupted in the crowd.
“Oy,” Nora muttered as the pleasantly plump, sunshiny waitress teetered up, carrying an armful of menus.
“Three?” she inquired through her pearly white teeth, almost like a ventriloquist.
I nodded and added as I glanced at her nametag, “As close to the jukebox as possible, please, Sandy.”
“Oh, someone just left and I have a seat right next to it,” Sandy chirped happily.
“No!” Nora groaned. As we followed the waitress to our seats, she leaned close to me and whispered, “You’re a bitch today.”
“You’re a bitch every day. Takes one to know one,” I shot back while the beaming waitress stood in front of our nice loud table, right next to the speakers.
“Are you in elementary school?” Nora grumbled as she slid into the booth.
“You were certainly acting like it earlier,” I snarled, scooting in next to my mother, who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the performance in front of her.
Nora ignored me as she slumped forward, head first, onto the menu Sandy had placed in front of her. Sandy started rattling off the day’s specials when Nora circled her hand in the air above her head.
“Just coffee. Bring me coffee.”
“Oh no. This is lunch, Nora. We’re having lunch. Order lunch,” I demanded.
“You’ve said the word lunch an inordinate number of times in the last half hour, Elizabeth. You should use that word in the novel that you’re never going to finish,” Nora mumbled from beneath her pile of recently highlighted hair.
I smiled sweetly at Sandy, ignoring my bitch of a best friend. “I’ll have the Rueben. Bring her a tuna melt. She adores tuna melts. With lots of fries.”
“I’ll also have a tuna melt,” my mother added as we handed back our menus. I tugged at Nora’s menu from underneath her head, causing her to smack her head on the table.
She looked up and glared at me as she rubbed her forehead. “You’re being ridiculous. Just let me go home and die in peace. You can see I’m miserable.”
“And whose fault is that?” I asked.
“You, for dragging me here,” Nora retorted.
I ignored her as I dug through my bag for chang
e. There were post-its stuck all over the inside of my bag, in addition to pictures I had cut out from various bridal magazines. Smugly, I revealed a handful of quarters.
“What are you doing?” Nora asked through gritted teeth. I simply grinned as I slid out of the booth. Nora grabbed my arm.
“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I was wrong to show up to your dress shopping drunk. I was still mad about the other day, and I just started drinking and I couldn’t stop.” Nora nodded firmly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin the dress shopping experience. I don’t know what got into me.”
“Wine,” my mother interjected. I raised my eyebrow.
“Apology accepted. Even though you were incredibly mean. More so than usual.”
Nora sighed as she pulled her sunglasses over her eyes. “It’s been a really rough week.”
“Why?” I inquired as I slid back into the booth.
Ugh, stop it, Elizabeth. Who cares why she had a rough week? Did she ask how your week was? Did she care you were sick with worry about her?
Sandy dropped a bowl of pickles in front of us. Mom and I reached for one as Nora wrinkled up her nose.
“It’s not important,” Nora told me. “Listen, once again, I’m sorry about the whole thing, but I feel like I’m about to hurl, so I really am going to go home. I don’t want to ruin your day even more.” She actually sounded apologetic for a change.
I nodded. “Okay. Go home.”
Nora rose from the booth with a grateful expression on her face. “Thanks. I’ll call you.” She kissed my cheek and headed for the door, still carrying her shopping bags.
Fifteen
Opening the shower curtain, I felt around blindly for the towel that was supposed to be hanging on the rack. All I could feel was the smooth tile.
Son of a bitch! Simon must have taken the towel and forgot to hang it back up. Not that I wanted to dry myself with anything that had touched his body. God only knew where that body has been in the last two years. Hell, God only knew where that body was when we were married. I shivered with the heebie jeebies at the thought. After our divorce, I had gone to the clinic anonymously and had myself worked up for every STD I could pronounce. Fortunately, they all came back negative.