Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 101168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
The words settled in Jamie’s gut like concrete, maid soaking up the vodka they’d drunk, leaving Jamie terribly, recklessly sober. They caught the waiter’s sympathetic eye and signaled for another Bloody Mary.
Recklessness wasn’t something that was received well in the Wendon-Dale family. Plan, prepare, execute. That was their mother’s motto and had been for as long as Jamie could remember. Spelling words and multiplication tables? Memorizable. Two term papers due the same day? Plan to write one the week before. Not sure you’re in love with your boyfriend anymore? Make a pros and cons list and proceed accordingly.
No excuses. No room for mess or chaos or indecision.
No room for Jamie.
Do you still think of me that way? After all this time, after everything I’ve explained, do you still look at me and see a girl I’ve never been?
“I, um… Yeah. But can we please not call it the maid of honor? Since, you know, I’m not a maid.”
The second Bloody Mary landed in front of Jamie, and they took a deep gulp to drown the rest of the words that wanted to come out.
“Oh, tell her the best part,” their mother said delightedly. She had cut her eggs Benedict into identical square bites. “Them,” she corrected herself absently, spearing a bite.
The rage simmered in Jamie’s throat and heated their ears. At least she corrected herself, their peacemaking side nagged. But Jamie was already checking out. When you realized someone wasn’t really speaking to you but to some fantasy they’ve constructed of you, it was pretty hard to invest in anything they were saying.
It was like this every time: an internal fight between the part of Jamie that cared about their family and wanted to be loved by them and the part that screamed to let their true feelings out, even if that meant alienating their mother and, by extension, their father, who would never stick up for Jamie if it meant disagreeing with his wife.
“We got the sculpture garden at the art museum!” Emma said. “It’s going to be perfect.”
“They had a cancellation, so we snapped it up,” Jamie’s father said.
How long had their family been planning this without mentioning it?
“That’s…that’ll be really pretty, Em.”
“God, I can’t believe we’re trying to plan a wedding in three months,” Emma said, turning to her mom. The we meant that Emma and Blythe had a shared file of documents, spreadsheets, and to-do lists that they consulted daily. That was what it meant to plan anything with Blythe, and for just a moment, Jamie was envious. To be on the receiving end of something their mother planned felt as close to a warm hug as they could get from her.
“You have the date, then?” Jamie asked.
“November first. We lucked out with that cancellation. They didn’t have any availability until next May, and I can’t wait that long,” Emma said, eyes soft.
“Yes, it’ll be all-hands-on-deck until the wedding,” Blythe said with finality.
Jamie stuffed a bite of food in their mouth to buy time.
Are you fucking kidding me? You misgender me, ask for my help, and plan the wedding so all the work needs to be done in my busiest month of the year?
“Yeah, that’s, um. That’s not really going to be a time when I can help with the wedding much,” Jamie said. “Since the haunted house opens to the public in October, I work time and a half. As you know,” they added.
Jamie’s mother waved them away. “You can get time off to help your family with your sister’s wedding, surely.” It was the same certainty she’d had when Jamie’s schedule interfered with an event during her election campaign. And they could understand why, since Jamie had gone through the tortures of the damned to get time off as requested.
But that had been two years ago, and Jamie wasn’t as easily cowed anymore.
“Actually,” Jamie said, still trying to keep their voice steady, “I committed to the job, and—”
“I’m sure you’ll work it out,” Blythe said, definitive. “And if not, there are other jobs.”
Creating the premiere haunted house in the New Orleans area was Jamie’s dream job, and their boss would replace them easily and without a second thought if they asked to take time off in the month before Halloween. But Blythe didn’t care about that. In the Wendon-Dale family, Jamie’s work was an embarrassment. Dropping out of college to pursue it? Well, Blythe still hadn’t forgiven Jamie for that.
There was no arguing with their mother when she had her mind made up. She refused to acknowledge any conflicting information or opinions. They’d simply have to figure the schedule out somehow. For now though, all they wanted was to get the hell out of here because they didn’t think they could deal with one more instance of being disregarded.
Jamie looked to Emma instead.
“I’m really happy for you, Em. I’ll try to help out however I can, but you’re not going to be able to count on me for a lot during October. If you’d like to ask someone who has more bandwidth to be the, uh, whatever of honor, that’s fine with me.”