“Imma sit right here and wait to see what granny does next.” With a GIF of Michael Jackson eating popcorn.
I realized I was grinning broadly and looked around surreptitiously to make sure no one had noticed. The only one looking at me was my grandmother, and her eyes narrowed as she pursed her lips. I felt a wave of guilt. Did she know somehow? Had she gone through my phone while I was in the shower?
She sipped more of her mimosa, and I laughed off the thought. My grandmother’s iPhone was the last one in existence without a passcode because she had locked her previous phone for 556 days trying to figure it out. There was no way she had gotten into mine.
Another notification came in, and I smiled again, clicking over to the new post tab.
You forget that a wedding is actually about being happy, I started, then stopped. I had followers now. People who would get notifications when I posted something. Would they stick around if I wrote a sweet post? No way. They came for the snark, and it was my job to deliver.
I glanced back at Madison. Her makeup done, she had come to sit next to my grandmother, saying something that looked ridiculously genuine. But was there anything to say about Madison that was snarky? She was . . . sweet. Not simperingly, sickeningly so, but just a nice Midwestern girl without an ounce of my sardonic humor.
I couldn’t annihilate her on the internet.
But the blog wasn’t really about the brides. It was about me and my experiences in their weddings. They were supporting cast at best. I hadn’t realized that before, and it was empowering because it was the first thing all year that had been about me, not them.
I was still thinking about what I would write when they called me to get my makeup done. And by the time I was finished, we had to do photos and then go to the wedding itself, so I was out of time. I can sneak away for a little during the reception, I thought. After I walked down the aisle in my yellow dress, my job was done until it was time to get my grandma on the plane back home. And Ken and Louise, apparently, as they would be on our return flight and sharing our Uber back to my grandmother’s house as well.
I felt a twinge of legitimate envy watching the ceremony. Jake was grinning ear to ear while he waited for Madison to come down the aisle, and I was close enough to hear him tell her that she was “so beautiful” when she reached him. He held her hand through the ceremony, and I saw my mother crying unabashedly during their vows, when he promised to love her unconditionally for the rest of their lives.
My mother had never shed tears of joy over me. Of anxiety, irritation, and anger? Sure. But joyous tears? And the way Jake and Madison looked at each other—they could have been the only ones there. No one had ever looked at me like that. Here I was, five years older than Jake, and he had found this level of happiness that I didn’t think I was capable of. What was wrong with me?
Then it was over. Jake stomped on a cloth-wrapped glass, despite having an otherwise nondenominational ceremony, everyone cheered, and it was time for more pictures, then the cocktail hour.
I got a glass of champagne and set it on a table to check my phone for more notifications. There were twelve. I was reading the comments when my grandmother sidled up to me, another slushy, tropical drink in her hand.
“Who’s the fella?”
I looked up in shock. I hadn’t seen her coming and had no idea what she was talking about. “What?”
“I saw you smiling at that phone. So who is he?”
“No one.”
She poked me in the ribs with a bony finger. “Don’t you lie to me, Joanie. I’ve known you your whole life.”
“Lily, Grandma. And no guy. I was just reading something—funny.”
She gave me a sly look that told me she didn’t believe a word I said. “Don’t drag me all the way to a foreign country for your wedding, please. I’m too old and it’s too hot.”
I sighed. “I promise, I’m not getting married. Probably ever, at this rate.”
“Is it a girl then?” My mouth dropped open. “What? It’s legal now. No one said you had to marry a boy.”
“Grandma!”
“Just promise me it’ll be closer to home.”
I closed my eyes and counted to ten. “Okay. First of all, I’m straight. Second, I’m single. Third, I have zero marital prospects on the horizon.”
She shook her head and made a tsk-tsk noise. “We’ll fix that, Joan,” she said, patting my arm reassuringly. Then she called to Louise and made her way to her friend as fast as her bad hip would allow.
That woman is going to be the death of me, I thought, drinking the rest of my champagne and going back to my phone.
Jake and Madison had a sweetheart table, so I was seated with Amy, Tyler, my parents, my grandmother, and my aunt and uncle for the meal and toasts, which felt agonizingly slow. I just wanted to find a place to camp out and write a post about what my grandmother had just said, but with my mother’s eyes on me every time I pulled out my phone, that was proving difficult.
I felt a buzz while Madison’s sister was giving her maid of honor speech, and I glanced down at my phone next to my leg on the seat.
How drunk is Grandma? Alex asked.
She asked me if I was a lesbian and said she was cool with it as long as my wedding is in a cooler climate and closer to home.
He sent laughing emojis. How’s the wedding otherwise?
Well . . . I look like Big Bird in my dress, but my brother seems really happy. So a success?
And no Justin, so it’s already a step up from Tim and Megan’s, right?
Depends if there’s an old lady knee-high on the doorknob when I get back to my room tonight.
Keep me posted. He sent a GIF of the scene from Grease with the guys saying, “Tell me more, tell me more.”
You are such a nerd, you know that?
Did you laugh?
Well, yeah.
Then who’s the real nerd?
My mother elbowed me. People were clapping and I was still on my phone. “Sorry,” I whispered.
“It’s your brother’s wedding. Put the phone away,” she hissed out of the side of her mouth. I slipped it under my leg.
After what felt like an eternity, the dancing began. My parents were on the dance floor, as were Amy and Tyler, and my grandmother had left the table, so I felt safe to start typing a post.
I was mulling over where to begin when my grandmother appeared in front of me, holding the arm of a handsome man.
Oh God. It’s happening, I thought in horror, looking up at the guy. What could possibly be in this for him? He’s my age at most! What a creep!
“I have a present for you,” she said, grinning. “This is Andrew, and he’s single.”
I looked at her in alarm. “Grandma!”
She ignored me. “Andrew, darling, this is my granddaughter Lily.”
“Hey,” he said amiably. He looked vaguely familiar, which hopefully did not mean he was a second cousin. And she got my name right for once.
“I’ll leave you two to get better acquainted,” my grandmother said with a wink. “And remember, just let me know if you need the room tonight!”
I wanted to crawl under my chair.
“Would you like to dance?” Andrew asked.
I had less than no desire to dance with some random dude at my brother’s wedding. Especially with some random dude whom my grandmother had coerced into asking me. But she was standing about four feet from us, nodding and making a shooing motion with her hands. And saying yes to one dance would (hopefully) get her to drop the subject and therefore help me survive until we got home the following evening.
“Uh, sure,” I said, dropping my phone into my purse.
We got to the dance floor and Andrew put his arm around my waist. “So are you friends with Jake?” I asked.
He gave me a funny look. “You don’t remember me?”
I looked at him more carefully. “Should I?”
“I’m crushed,” he said, smiling. “I was so in love with you.”
I shook my head. “I’m sorry, I—”
“Andrew MacKenzie?”
My eyes widened. “Andy MacKenzie?”