My Big Fat Low-Fat Wedding

chapter 20



As relaxing as yesterday’s picnic was, the day had certainly not ended calmly. I’m so nervous about the wedding tomorrow that I can’t stop pacing the room.

“I knew I should have planned something to do.” I wring my hands and Callum comes over to me.

“Why don’t you check into the venue early, honey?”

I stop pacing. “What? And sit there doing nothing in the bridal suite? I’d go insane with stress!”

“All right.” Callum holds up his hands, thoroughly giving up. “It was only a suggestion.”

My bottom lip juts out in a pout and I plonk my bottom onto the bed. “Easy for you to say, you’ve got loads to occupy your mind today.”

It’s true. My fiancé is super busy even at this very moment while he packs his bags. His best man, Vince, and some of his other mates are off on their overnight barge cruise stag-do. They’ll be boarding at Upton, floating down the River Severn, then docking at Worcester. I won’t see my fiancé until tomorrow morning at the wedding when I walk down the aisle.

My parents aren’t flying in from Spain until this afternoon, so until then I’ve got no one to keep me company at all. I’d tried calling Lara, but she hadn’t answered. I’d tried texting everyone about last minute wedding prep, but no one’s gotten back to me yet at all.

“Harrumph!” I exclaim loudly while throwing myself backwards onto the pillow. “Maybe I’ll go see a film or something… in Upton.”

“Honey.” Callum growls at me. “There’s no cinema in Upton.”

Rats. I’ve been caught out. “Isn’t there? I thought they built one.”

“You wouldn’t be aiming to check up on me, now would you?” Callum stops packing his bag and slides on top of me. “You know we aren’t allowed to see each other from now until the wedding.”

“Since when does a scientist believe in superstitious crap like that?”

He laughs and kisses the tip of my nose. “Oh, is that a superstition? I thought it was just something made up in the old days to keep the women from snooping on the groom’s stag do.”

“Why? You’re not actually letting Vince get stripper midgets for you, are you?”

Callum’s eyebrows shoot skyward in curiosity. “I hadn’t heard anything of the sort, but now that you mention it, a groom is required to have at least one stripper—”

“Don’t even think about it.” Grabbing his cheeks, I kiss him hard on the mouth. Then, just as quickly, I release him from my grasp and sit straight up. “I know what I’ll do today! Why didn’t I think of this idea before?”

“I kind of had an idea for something we could do right now, babe.”

Turning, I notice my fiancé’s boxer-briefs have gone rather pointy shaped. “Save it for the honeymoon!”

“Are you saying you want me to remain hard for the next seventy-two hours? I don’t think even Viagra pills are capable of making a bloke sustain—”

Exasperated, I shake my head. “Don’t be so silly. You’ve got packing to do, now get on with it.”

“Oh? Now you want me to leave? What happened to Little Miss Bored Knickers?”

Crossing my arms, I glare at him. “I’ll have you know she’s now become Little Miss Has Something To Do Kickers, so get going!”

After much grumbling and a few more attempts at what Callum terms: not wasting GoodWood, I finally see my fiancé off out the door.

Now I’m alone and I can get to the matter at hand. I’d completely forgotten about the hen do DVD gift I’d received. That is, I’d forgotten about it until the subject of strippers had come up. I’ve been avoiding any and all talk of strippers ever since coming face to face with the fact that my cousin’s boyfriend is a male stripper. Or should I say ever since I came face to groin with his…?

I shudder at the thought and pop the DVD into the player. When the screen lights up I’m amazed I’m even trying this.

The DVD I’ve just loaded is a stripper video. Not a movie with strippers on it. I don’t need that, I bought the Magic Mike DVD ages ago. It’s a how-to video for learning to do pole dancing! The hen-do gift came with its own pole that I just load up with water or sand in the base for stability. By the time I’m done learning this Callum won’t know what hit him! After we get back from honeymoon he’s going to wish we never went when I show him my new pole.

The instructor on the DVD makes pole dancing look so easy. I’ve filled the base of the pole with water as I don’t have sand to hand. The thing seems steady enough and I test it out by jumping up and holding on for dear life.

It holds my weight. What’s even more surprising is that my arms and legs are capable of holding myself up onto this metal stick. I haven’t wrapped myself around a pole since grade school when playing on the monkey-bars at break time.

While I’ve got a good enough grip on the stick, I figure I might as well try the suggested flip move the DVD instructor has just completed.

This foot goes here. That foot goes there. My hands go onto the bar here and there.

I think I’m sorted. I’m standing on the base like I’m supposed to. Now, according to the pole dancer instructor woman, it’s all just a matter of pulling in one direction and giving it everything I’ve got.

Yanking hard with both arms while pushing off with my feet I catapult my entire body in a half circle through the air.

“Argh!” I scream.

I am now hanging upside-down and holding onto this blasted pole for dear life.

Why oh why didn’t I wait and watch for the instructor to say how the bloody hell I’m supposed to get back down? All the blood is rushing to my head. My eyes are going to pop clean out of their sockets from pressure! There’s nothing else for it, I’m going to have to slide down while upside-down!

Carefully, using all the strength I can muster, I loosen my leg and arm grip on the pole. Slowly but surely the top of my head slides towards the water-filled pole base. My muscles are screaming in agony as I try to keep my body from slipping.

It’s no use! “Argh!” I scream again as I go down.

My head skims the base and I manage to flip outwards. I land knees first on the carpet as my boobs bounce off the pole base.

I’m stunned. Absolutely shell shocked. I’m kneeling in front of the stripper pole and if someone were to walk into the sitting room right now they’d think I was simply meditating peacefully.

Little would they know that I’d just nearly risked cracking my neck and ending my own life one day before my wedding.

***



When the first call comes I’m wholly unprepared. “What do you mean you can’t make it to my wedding? You’re doing the bloody catering, Paige!”

“I’m sorry, Emily.” Her voice doesn’t sound very sorry down the phone. “Didn’t you get my text message?”

Text message? She’d tried to fob me off with a text message about the fact that the person who’d promised to deliver all my wedding food is suddenly cancelling. What a coward! I’m surprised she worked up the courage to even phone me like she has done now.

“But, Paige.” I start hyperventilating. “How am I going to sort out all the food without your help?”

“You’ll figure something out, I’m sure.”

Click.

The phone line goes dead. I stare at the screen utterly gobsmacked. Did she just hang up on me? I feel like I’m going to cry. What am I going to do? This is so last minute it’s not even processing in my brain.

Bring!

My phone goes off while I’m still holding it in my hands. Is it Paige calling to apologise and un-cancel her evil cancelling ways?

Looking down at the phone’s face I can clearly see it’s not Paige who’s calling. It’s Lara. Oh good. It’s my best friend. She’ll know how to help me with this most abysmal problem!

“Lara, you won’t believe what’s just happened!” I bellow into the phone without even saying hello.

“Just hang on a minute, Emily. I’ve got something I need to tell you.”

Emily? Did my best friend forever, who’s never called me Emily, just say my full name? There’s something fishy going on around here.

“I won’t be able to get your dress alterations in time for tomorrow. I’m sorry.”

My world collapses with every word she utters. I see a black shadow in front of my vision. It’s as though my brain is having trouble processing her words. I’m hearing the English language that Lara is speaking, but the emotional wave of chemicals that are being released into my mind is overwhelming my senses.

There’s a pause down the phone line. I think I hear a slight tremor in Lara’s voice just before she adds, “Emily, you could wear that lovely dress you wore to the picnic yesterday. Good bye.”

Click.

This can’t be happening. I must be dreaming that my best friend just cancelled my wedding dress and hung up on me. That’s two cancellations for the most important day of my life thus far in having lived. Something is horribly wrong with the universe.

When the phone rings this time I stare at it as though I’m peering through a kaleidoscope. My vision swims and colours ping abnormally in my peripheral. I’m so confused. So stressed. I can barely hear the ringing chime of the incoming call.

“Hello?” I croak upon answering.

“Hello?” Comes the voice from the phone. “Is that miss Gillam? This is Georgina from Mortsbaton Court. I’m sorry to have to inform you that we’re going to have to cancel your wedding plans that are scheduled for tomorrow. Please schedule your wedding at another facility. Thank you. Good bye.”

“Thank you. Good bye.” I repeat on auto pilot and shut off my phone.

I’m in the sitting room, phone in hand. One after the next call after call comes in informing me of cancellations for my wedding tomorrow that is no more.

It’s all over. Everyone has cancelled. Even some guests who are invited have phoned to say they can’t make it to my wedding or the reception.

I stare at the dancer pole just like I’d done after flipping myself off it. When my eyes become dry from so much staring, I blink. I’m now staring at the blank wall.

I’ve been meaning to get some photos or prints up onto that wall. Why haven’t I done so yet? Why do anything? Why does anything matter now? My wedding is off. I’m never going to marry the man of my dreams…

“Callum!” I scream a wretched scream the likes of which I never thought possible of my own vocal chords. Rapidly, I dial his mobile only to find it goes straight to voice mail.

I stand and throw my own phone against the stark blank wall. It collides with the white paint and makes a visible dent.

There. At least the wall isn’t completely blank any longer.

I’d forgotten Callum had said he wouldn’t be contactable by phone for the entirety of his barge stag-do.

This is beyond disastrous. Everyone in my life has more than let me down. What did I do to them all to deserve this? How could they end it all like this? Because that’s surely what they’ve done. Each and every person who has failed me today must have known that I’d end our friendship.

I guess none of them care.

They must all hate me to treat me this badly.

I wrack my brains trying to remember what I could have possibly done to upset everyone into cancelling on me like this, because there has to be a reason. A collective group of people do not all cancel on one wedding at random. It can’t be mere coincidence that everyone I know —and some who I love— would cancel so suddenly. Can it? Could I be the world’s unluckiest piece of crap on the planet?

Judging by the day’s occurrences, it would seem so.

The fact that I can’t even warn Callum not to show up at the wedding venue tomorrow actually destroys me inside. I can picture the look on his face when he arrives there tomorrow dressed in his wedding finery.

“Oh, Cal. I’m so sorry.”

And now the tears begin to flow. When my phone bleeps an incoming message I can barely manage the energy to crawl over to the device. I’m bawling like a crushed child who’s just had her favourite toy ripped from her embrace and squashed under the mean heels of her cruel older brother. I am a woman who only knows sadness.

The sorrow is heightened tenfold when I read the text message on my phone’s screen…

My parents’ flight from Spain has been cancelled and they won’t be flying over for my now non-existent wedding.

***



To be honest, I’m surprised my parents didn’t ring to say they weren’t coming of their own choice. After the day I’ve had it wouldn’t shock me at all to discover that my own parents no longer loved me.

Scrape, file, buff, saw.

I’m filing the hell out of my acrylic nails in frustration. At this rate I might just file them down completely. I might even file them off so much that my nail-beds will become exposed.

File. File. File.

Maybe if I file down past my nail-beds my fingertips will start bleeding and it will really hurt. Then I will no longer have to endure the pain that’s gripping my heart right now.

Cry. File. Sob. File. Scrape.

I’m lying in bed. Tears flow from my eyes and over my temples wetting my hair. The acrylic from my nails turns back into powder as I file away. My neck and chest are covered in acrylic powder, but I don’t care. I just continue to file off every trace of that wedding-cancelling-hairstylist Tina.

Oh yes. Even she had cancelled on me by phone.

What’s odd is that everyone who’d cancelled had done so by calling. My parents, however, had merely sent a text message. I’m not even going to question their reasons for not phoning and speaking to me properly. If I call them now and discover their flight really was avoided, rather than cancelled, I’ll lose it. I’ve already lost the plot to sadness, I don’t want to add mental breakdown to my list of awfulness that is this day from hell.

The more I think about it, the more I become convinced I know why everyone cancelled.

It’s because of my dieting and exercising. I’ve been such a pain in the arse to everyone around me lately.

Cursing, I sit up in bed and I throw the nail file at the wall. It doesn’t make a dent because the thing is too small and I’m extremely disappointed by this fact.

If only I hadn’t let my weight go up and down so much over these past few weeks. Then Lara wouldn’t have become so frustrated with all the dress fittings and re-sizing I’d insisted upon.

If only I hadn’t kept asking Paige to alter her health food menu one week, while changing it completely the next. I mean, the woman was offering the meals for free after my cafe disaster with the berserk robot. What right did I have to be so picky about what my guests would be eating? It’s only one day.

One measly little wedding day that meant the world to me, but obviously meant nothing to my supposed friends.

“Whaaaaaa!” I burst into tears all over again. I’ve forgotten how to keep my mind under control. It snaps because the pressure of sadness in my heart has become too much. “I might as well kill myself!” I scream this at the ceiling because I’ve somehow managed to roll off the bed and onto the floor where I’m now lying on my back.

Slamming both of my hands over my mouth, I cram my palms tightly down. Did I actually just yell those suicidal words? Dear me, I really have lost it. I’ve always been one for drama, but never on such a level of despair. Voicing my frustration like that really hit home.

I’m a woman unhinged by sadness and I need to get a grip before I crack.

It’s no use wiping tears off my face, because more just follow, soaking my skin. The front of my t-shirt is so drenched from crying I wouldn’t be surprised to find that my bra was wet from weeping as well.

After drawing a hot bath, I step into the tub and soak myself in the warm water.

This is the relaxation I need. This is the way to calm myself. I’m sad, yes, but I don’t want to go completely bonkers on top of that. I have no way of getting hold of Callum, and I don’t dare ring my parents. I’ve got to be able to keep my sanity, and I have to do so on my own.

It’s not easy, but I manage it somewhat. Through breathing and pleasant thoughts I’ve even stopped crying.

Picking up my Kindle off the stool beside the bath, I flick through the Amazon book store for something to read. Something that will further take my mind off today’s horror wedding cancellations.

Actually, come to think of it, maybe a good horror novel is exactly what I need.

I select a vampire eBook that is so horrifying it even has a warning at the front of the sample I’ve downloaded. The warning tells the reader that this is definitely not Twilight and that I should only read on if I’m willing to be terrified beyond belief.

I snort in disbelief. The author of this book obviously doesn’t know the terror of having one’s wedding cancelled the day before!

After reading a few chapters of the vampire novel, I’m even more convinced that the author doesn’t know real terror. The writer does know gore though. That’s all this book is filled with, it seems. It’s not scary lit, it’s just disgusting grit. Page after page screams words of bloody-this and blood-spraying-that. I can’t begin to count the number of times I’ve read about oozing entrails and disembowelments.

“Bleh.” I drop my Kindle onto the stool.

I don’t know if I should be grateful to the author of that eBook for filling my mind with such distracting gore, or if I should feel ill at the bile I’m now having to choke down.

Well, at least the warm water is soothing to my shot nerves. My eyelids close and I finally feel a sense of calm washing over me…

“Whaaaaa!” I sit up splashing water everywhere. The water has gone cold and I don’t even remember falling asleep. As I step out of the freezing bath I’m careful not to drip any water onto my Kindle. Although, I might be feeling a bit inclined to break the damn think on purpose.

After reading that blood filled horror novel I’d dreamed my wedding was back on, but just as I walked down the aisle a giant vampire crashed my wedding. He was massive in my dream and he drank the blood of all my wedding guests. What was most disturbing about my dream was that I’d done nothing to stop the carnage as my back-stabbing friends who’d cancelled were disembowelled and sucked dry of all their blood.

When I crash into bed at the end of the worst day ever to exist, I can’t help thinking that my warm bath had not stopped my brain from snapping if my horrific dream is anything to go by.