“Your wedding,” she said loudly.
“Right, well, I like my hair better when it falls somewhere between my chin and shoulder. It’s easier to tie back in braids too.”
“You look like a child when you do that. Especially when you wear those tragic little clogs.”
I made a pointed glance at my watch that sent her swiveling in her chair again. “Has he tried to call you? Sent a text? Any sign of life?” She shot me a glare that would’ve shut me up on a different day but I was coasting on a thick layer of not giving a fuck. “I’m just saying, maybe he’s delayed. Traffic or whatever. Did he mention why he’s in Boston?”
Brie pulled her phone out of her purse, shaking her head as she said, “We didn’t get into that.” She set her phone on the table, facedown. “Let’s get some more drinks.”
I picked up her untouched martini. “Same thing?”
She murmured in agreement as she gripped the edge of the table hard enough to turn her knuckles white. For her sake, I was hoping it was a matter of terrible traffic and other explainable delays.
While I waited at the bar, I texted Meri. She lived around the corner from here and had offered-slash-threatened to pull on a disguise, camp out at a nearby table, and support, intervene, or cause calamity as she saw fit.
Whitney
No sign of the sperm donor.
Meri
Should I take off the wig?
Whitney
I can’t make that decision for you, honey.
Meri
How much longer do you think you’ll wait?
Whitney
I’m pretty sure Brie would wait a week.
Meri
Yeah, I was hoping for something more in the range of 10 to 15 minutes.
Whitney
Me too.
Meri
You’re closing in on 90 minutes past the planned time now. That’s not an accident. It sucks. I’m sorry. Come to my place when it’s over. We’ll have cheese.
Whitney
I’ll keep you posted.
When I returned with Brie’s martini and my vodka soda, I knew she was unraveling. Her cheeks were flushed, her breathing shallow, and her brown eyes rimmed with red. I didn’t want to make this worse but Meri was right. Ninety minutes late without getting in touch meant something—and not what Brie wanted to hear.
“What about giving him a call?” I asked as gently as possible. “Just to check in?”
She sank her teeth into her bottom lip. “Okay. Yeah.” She blinked down at her phone as tears filled her eyes. “I’ll call him.”
As she lifted the phone to her ear, the dam broke and those tears came rushing out with hiccupping sobs. As much as I didn’t want to be here and I didn’t want to meet this selfish jackass, I wasn’t about to allow him the pleasure of hearing the child he’d rejected cry over his absence. He didn’t deserve it.
