“Are
you done yet?!” A wave of steam hit me as I threw open the bathroom door.
“Does
it look like I’m done?” It did not.
“Hurry
up! I need to be at work in less than thirty minutes and it’s going to take me
fifteen just to get there!” I wiped the mirror with my sleeve to assess my
hair. Nope. Skipping the wash would not be an option.
Suddenly
the shower curtain flew back.
“You
could always join me.” Any other day the sight of Tyler standing there with
water droplets pearling on his perfectly smooth skin, light dancing in the dew
as he flexed his muscles, would have been a welcome image. Today, I just found
it annoying.
“That
is it! From now on, you can’t sleep over anymore,” I yelled as I stormed from
the bathroom.
I
was barely two feet back into my bedroom when I nearly tripped over Tyler’s
shoes. I picked them up and hurled them into the nearest corner. “And pick up
you stuff! A girl could get killed in here!”
Tyler
and I had been dating for nearly a year now, and up until recently, things had
been amazing. Then, out of the blue, he had decided it was time to take our
relationship to the next level. So, before I knew it, he had brought over a box
of his things and I had been forced to vacate a drawer for them.
If
you knew me, and I mean, knew me at all,
you would know that there are two things I cannot stand. One, being late and
two, someone messing with my stuff.
Blame
it on the fact that I’m an only child. Blame it on me being a total control
freak. I don’t care. Either way, I was not fond of the idea of having to move
all of my belongings over, which now suddenly had nowhere to go, just so he
could have a place to keep his underwear and spare phone charger. To make
matters worse, one drawer never seemed quite enough.
All
of a sudden, he was adding shoes to my closet. Hanging extra towels on my towel
rack. It was like he was freaking moving in.
“It’s
all you.” He stood there, dripping water on my hardwood floors. It was all I
could do not to choke the living daylights out of him. Instead, I closed my eyes
and silently counted to ten.
“Listen.
This isn’t working. I realize this is a total cliché, but - It’s me. Not you. I
can’t take it. I’m just not cut out for a real relationship. It’s making me
crazy. And what’s worse, it’s making me hate you.”
I
handed him a towel while he stood there completely dumbstruck. “Do me a favor
and wipe up the floor. I really need to get in the shower.”
By
the time I got back out, Tyler was gone. So was all of his crap.
I got to work twenty minutes
late. I barely had enough time to stop in my office to grab the sketches I
needed and then run all the way to the presentation room in the back where the
meeting had already started without me.
I was about to knock and let
myself in, when my assistant Stephanie came at me, outstretched hand yielding a
hot and delicious coffee.
“Oh my God, Steph. I love you,” I
whispered. Now her I would let move in, in a heartbeat.
I took one quick sip and then
braced myself for what was waiting on the other side of the door.
“Good morning, Calista Joy. So
nice of you to join us.” Even at my age, you knew you were in trouble when your
mother used your middle name.
“So sorry I’m late. I had an
unforeseen circumstance. Either way, I apologize for keeping you all waiting.”
This was our fourth meeting this
week with the bride-to-be and today she had brought along a whole new slew of
people. The wedding itself was only three months away and nothing had been
finalized as of yet. Not even the dress. I’d provided her with seven sketches
in the last six months and she had found a problem with all of them. I had two
more for her today. After this, I was making an appointment for her at
Kleinfeld’s.
These issues weren’t uncommon for
brides with limitless funds. I think it’s the feeling of knowing the sky’s the
limit and worrying they’ll miss out on something even better than what they’ve
already seen that overwhelms them. Regardless, it was annoying, not to mention
stressful. But I kept my mouth shut.
At twenty-three I was the
youngest dress designer in the city. I’m sure most people assumed that my
extensive client list stemmed solely from working in the confines of my
mother’s shadow, but the truth was, I had talent.
Sure, my mother’s connections had
granted me opportunities early on that most designers only dreamed of. Starting
at sixteen I was spending my summers doing internships with all the big names
in bridal wear. At eighteen, I even ventured off to France for a bit before
coming home to start school at Parson’s.
Once I graduated it seemed stupid
not to take my mother up on her offer to set up shop in her shop. I was in need of a job and she had been wanting for some
time to add ‘custom bridal dresses’ to her list of services. It was a win/win.
Except on days like today, where
it felt like we were all losing.
“I’m not sure how I feel about
this neckline. I thought I would like it better this way, but now that I’m
seeing it with the full skirt, it just doesn’t look right.” Madison, our bride,
was scrunching up her nose like a piglet. Her rosy cheeks and strawberry blonde
hair were doing nothing to offset the visual. Nor was it helping that I kind of
wanted her to look like a pig at that
point. Or a cow. Really, any farm animal would have done the trick.
I watched as she flipped back and
forth between the two new sketches, shaking her head and distorting her face in
a variety of expressions, one more unsightly than the next while the women
sitting to either side of her mimicked her every move.
“I’m sorry, I’m just not feeling
like these are for me, you know? I mean, they always say, when you finally find
the right dress you just know.” She handed the sketches over across the table
where I carelessly slid them back into my folder. I had known they were hideous
all along. Pretty sure I had told her they would be when we discussed the
changes she wanted me to make.
“Completely understandable,
Madison. And that’s absolutely true. Finding your wedding dress is always love
at first sight. When you see it, you always know.” I reached down into my bag
and pulled out another sketch. It was a ballsy move, but I had nothing to lose
at this point.
“I may have one more for you.
It’s a design I was saving for my collection. I was actually considering
planning the entire line around it, so I probably shouldn’t even show it to
you…” The moment I placed it in front of her, Madison’s eyes lit up.
“OMG! This is it. This is my
dress,” she squealed loudly, eagerly showing the image to all of her friends.
It was the first sketch I’d ever
drawn for her. She had shot it down in two seconds flat two months ago, but
now, it was the one.
Once
the whole dress debacle was finally over, my mother was able to finalize all of
her plans as well. Suddenly, Madison had no problems making any decisions.
Everything my mother suggested sounded perfect to her and all she did anymore
was nod and smile, all the while never even taking her eyes from the sketch of
her dream gown.
In
spite of how annoyed I’d been with her these past months, there was no escaping
the high that followed anytime a bride fell in love with a dress that I’d
created for her. There was something absolutely amazing about knowing that I’d
played a part in bringing someone’s childhood fantasy to life. And let’s face
it, that’s basically what weddings are. A childhood fantasy. Only unlike the
ones we had about jumping off of rooftops and soaring through the air like
Superman, we’re actually dumb enough to pursue this one.
In
case you hadn’t noticed, I had extremely mixed feelings when it came to
marriage. On the one hand, I’d clearly dedicated my life to love and the
elusive, possibly imaginary, happily ever after. On the other, I was a jaded,
love hating cynic who wasn’t about to fall for any of that crap herself.
“So,
what was the unforeseen circumstance today?” My mother was standing in the open
doorway to my office, casually sipping what I could only assume was some plain
organic tea of one flavor or another. More than likely it was green or
chamomile. I made a face just thinking about it.
“Tyler.
But not to worry. It won’t happen again.” I reached for my coffee, my second
cup of the day. God bless Steph. She’d had it sitting on my desk waiting for me
as soon as I walked in after that torturous meeting.
Her
curiosity piqued, my mother came all the way in and had a seat on the sofa
along the back wall. “And why exactly are you so sure it won’t happen again?”
“Because
I broke up with him.” I made sure to sound as casual as possible. As of yet, no
unpleasant feelings regarding the sudden break up had surfaced and I was hoping
to keep it that way for as long as possible.
My
mother just shook her head. “What was it this time, Cal?”
“You
were there, you already know. He’s the reason I was late.” If that wasn’t
reason enough, I didn’t know what was.
“You,
my darling daughter, have commitment issues.” She laughed at me as she stood up
and began to leave.
“Oh,
this coming from the woman who hasn’t been in a relationship in seven years.”
Maybe even longer. As far as I knew, there had been no one since the divorce.
“That’s
because I’m perfectly happy being committed to myself.” She smiled that ‘I’m
your mother and I know everything’ smile and then walked out.
She
was barely out of the room when my phone started blowing up. Tori. She and I’d
been friends since first grade. More importantly, Tyler was her boyfriend
Kyle’s older brother. She’d set us up herself and had no doubt been planning
our double weddings and baby showers ever since. I didn’t have to read a single
one of her text messages to know what they were about.
Seven jingles later and I
bypassed reading and simply hit call.
“You don’t break off a year-long
relationship with someone while they’re standing there completely naked. It’s
not fair. It makes the dumpee vulnerable and it’s just bad manners, Cal!”
“First of all, he was not naked
he was wearing a towel, and second of all, don’t even get me started on bad
manners. I can assure you, when it comes to practicing proper etiquette, Tyler
does a sub-par job at best. I have two stains on my hardwood floor the shape of
his feet caused by water damage this morning to prove it.” I didn’t know why I
was even bothering. I’d never win this one anyway.
“What if he was the one, Cal?
What if he was the one and you threw him out because he got your floor wet?”
This was ridiculous.
“He wasn’t the one, Tor.” I
rolled my eyes knowing she wouldn’t be able to see it and reached for my
coffee. It was cold. Between my mother and her, a perfectly innocent cup of
heavenly brew had gone to waste. I shook my head in disgust at their recklessness.
Meanwhile, Tori ranted on, “How
do you know? How do you know he wasn’t the one? He could have been.”
“No Tor, he couldn’t have been.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because if he had been the one he would have known better than
to hog the shower. He wasn’t the one.”
I could hear her grumbling things
to herself. I didn’t have to be able to make out the words to get the gist of
it. This was hardly my first lecture. For as long as I could remember, Tori had
been obsessed with one thing and one thing only – falling in love. From the
time we were eleven I had spent every Sunday evening planted on her sofa,
watching some ridiculous Hallmark movie or another. Then when we turned
thirteen, things got a little more intense as she added boy bands and that guy
from the OC to the mix. It’s fairly safe to say, Tori has been boy crazy since
before she was old enough to appreciate the benefits of having one.
I, on the other hand, was always
a bit more reserved in this area. Maybe because I grew up in a home where love
was a convenience and not a passion. Or maybe just because Tori had the whole
thing covered already for the both of us. Either way, while she was busy
fantasizing about the way Kyle might propose to her one day, the only weddings
on my mind were those of my clients.
“Do you still need me on the line
for this or can I get back to work?” I had two more meetings to prepare for and
I wasn’t remotely ready. I was already going to have to work straight through
lunch as it was.
“Why can’t you just be a normal
girl for once in your life, Cal? What is so wrong with falling in love and
living happily ever after? Do you really want to be alone forever?”
I dropped the stack of files I
had pulled from my drawer onto my desk, making a loud clapping sound in the
process.
“Who said I was going to be alone
forever? I’m twenty-three, Tor. And this is the twenty-first century. It’s fine
if you want to get married and settle down. But don’t act like it’s insane for
me to be single right now. I’ve got shit to do and I’m not wasting my time on
some asshole who’s going to hold me back. Even if it is just by making me late
for a meeting.”
I could hear her sigh loudly on
the other end. A clear sign of surrender. Except I knew it was only temporary.
“Fine. Go do you.”
“No one else does it better.”
“See you Sunday?”
“Of course.” As I said it, I made
a little note reminding me to check the TV listings for this weekend’s movie.
Over the years I’d learned that most of them fell into three basic categories –
single mom meets troubled stranger and falls in love, work-a-holic/ jaded woman
falls for the silent but strong country guy, and last, but certainly not least,
the sweet innocent girl meets sweet innocent boy, but due to massive
miscommunications and odd misunderstandings, they don’t actually wind up
together until three minutes before the movie ends. This category tended to
always come equipped with some sweet senior doling out advice to the innocent
ones, which somehow made it more bearable than the other two. Those in turn
required a great deal more chocolate to endure and I wanted to be prepared.
When I finally got Tori off the
phone, I dove right into sketching. Aside from Steph popping in to drop off a
veggie and hummus platter from the deli downstairs, I didn’t see or speak to
anyone until I was done, at which point I found myself having to make another
run for it down the hall as I was showing up late for my second meeting of the
day. Stupid Tyler.
“Hey Burke, you wanted to see
me?” I was standing in my boss’s office.
“Yeah.
How long have you been workin’ here now, you think? Seven, eight years?”
It
was nine. “Something like that. What’s up?”
“Emerson,
how old do you think I am?”
It
was an odd question and I sure as shit didn’t want to answer it. But I did.
“Old, Burke. You’re goddamn old.”
He
laughed. “Hell yes, I am. So, how much longer you think you’re going to need
before you can start takin’ over so I can get some rest?”
I
frowned. “You thinkin’ about retirin’?”
“No,
I’m not thinkin’ about it. I’m doin’ it. Already talked it over with everyone,
and we all agree, there’s no one better than you.” Burke stood up from behind
his desk and held out his hand. “You’ve got six months kid. Then it’ll be all
you.”
Speechless,
I met his hand with mine, and we shook on it. I was six months from having it
all.
