And more importantly, the halo-wearing side of my conscience told me I couldn’t keep what I had earned off writing about my friends. I tried to ignore that voice, but it was no use.
Finally, I decided on a compromise I could live with. I logged back into my bank account and paid off my credit card. Then I divided the remaining amount by five and Venmoed that sum to each of the five brides with the same message: Please accept your share of the blog profits as a wedding gift. I love you, and I’m sorry.
If anyone protested, I would tell them that if they didn’t accept it, I would use it to buy them the tackiest, custom-made, non-returnable wedding gift that I could find. No one could argue with that.
With my conscience thus cleared, I finally drifted off to sleep.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
I spent the next two weeks in quiet penance. I did a lot of Caryn’s job during the day, then I went to my parents’ house and helped my mother make favors for Amy’s wedding three nights in a row after work. The day of Sharon’s wedding, I went with Amy for her final dress fitting and then spent the evening packing gift bags for out-of-town guests.
“What else can I do?” I asked.
Amy and my mother exchanged looks. “I think it’s under control,” Amy said.
“What about table arrangements?”
Amy shrugged. “They’ve been done for weeks now.”
“Boutonnieres for the groomsmen?”
“Ordered. The best man is picking them up the morning of the wedding.”
“There has to be something.”
“There isn’t,” my mother said gently. Our relationship had undergone a definite shift since I had confided in her about Alex. There was a little less of an edge, and I didn’t feel as attacked. I no longer felt annoyed when I saw her pop up on my caller ID. I didn’t know if it was her or me or both, but whatever had caused the change, I hoped it lasted. “You’ve been a huge help this week though.”
“Have gifts started coming in? I could help with thank-you notes.”
Amy laughed. “Go home, Lily.”
It was eight o’clock, but still light outside. Between Caryn being on her honeymoon, Sharon no longer my friend, Becca never around, Megan preparing for her wedding, and Alex wanting nothing to do with me, I found filling the hours to be a daunting task.
But I stuck to my word and emailed Madison, and we began a—halting at first—correspondence. She was well-read—much more so than my brother, who didn’t see the point in reading if there was a movie—and she got literary references that traveled far over his head. By the fourth or fifth email, I discovered that, once she warmed up, she was actually pretty funny. She may not have been the extrovert that I was, but we were a lot more alike than I would have imagined, which made me feel more connected to my brother as well. I started texting him a couple of times a week. True, our correspondence consisted primarily of memes, but it was something.
I wrote more blog posts, also haltingly at first. I talked about Finn in one, not by name of course, and about why I decided being a trophy wife wasn’t for me. That one generated a little buzz online, even though half of the comments called me crazy for not chasing the easy life. I responded to every comment—from home, or my cell phone if I was at work. This one would never touch the FST computers. Even knowing that Martin didn’t object, I wanted to be professional this time.
I didn’t talk about Alex. Or say anything negative about any of the brides. But I did write a post about my newfound respect for my sister-in-law. I planned to email it to her, not knowing if she was reading the new blog, but she commented on it before I did, thanking me. Or maybe it was a Russian bot, pretending to be her. Who knows? The internet is a dark and creepy place, after all.
Finally, it was Amy’s wedding day. I hugged her moments before it was time for me to walk down the aisle. “I’m happy for you,” I whispered, meaning it.
Her eyes glimmered and she elbowed me. “Don’t you make me cry right now.”
“Okay. But I love you, little sis.”
She dabbed at her eyes. “I love you too, you big jerk.”
I sat between Madison and my grandmother at the reception. “Joanie, when is it your turn?” my grandmother asked me. I looked at Madison and rolled my eyes. She smiled.
“I don’t know.”
“Well hurry up. I’m not going to live forever, you know.”
“That’s not morbid at a wedding or anything.”
“Oh, I’ll be at yours. You mark my words. I don’t care if your mother has to dig me up and tie me to a chair. I’ll be there.”
Madison and I exchanged another look. “I’ll get right on it, Grandma.”
She leaned over to me and whispered, which without her hearing aids was still a volume that could be heard from three tables over, “I read that new blog thing of yours. You should call that banker. There’s nothing wrong with being a trophy wife!”
“Grandma!”
“Since when do you read blogs?” Jake asked.
“I saw it on the Facebook Google. You think I don’t know how all that works, but at least Joanie is posting interesting stuff. No one wants to see a picture of every meal you eat, Jake.”
Madison let out a yelp of laughter and I collapsed giggling onto her shoulder.
“When did you two get so close?” he asked us, his arms crossed grumpily.
I put an arm around Madison. “I love my new sister. Best thing you ever did. I’m actually glad now that Mom and Dad didn’t trade you for a dog when I was in fifth grade and made that poster about why they should.”
“I expect an apology for that in the next blog post,” he said.
“Don’t hold your breath.” I turned to Madison. “Let’s grab Amy and get some sister shots in the photo booth.”
“Definitely.”
Amy was standing by a table, talking with some of our mother’s cousins. “Sorry,” I said, grabbing her arm. “We need to borrow the bride.”
“Thank you,” Amy sighed as we pulled her away. “Who were those people?”
I laughed. “You’re the worst.”
“You’re one to talk!”
I started to sputter a response, but Madison interrupted. “Think they’ll let us cut the line for the photo booth because we have the bride?” Amy and I exchanged a look. “What?”
“You follow rules,” Amy said.
“That’s so cute.” I put an arm around her waist. “Don’t worry, we’ll have you corrupted in no time.”
“Outta the way,” Amy said to the waiting guests as she dug through the prop box and began loading us up with boas and signs. “Bridal party, coming through!”
After we spent way too long making silly faces and posing for pictures, Amy bounded off to find Tyler, and Jake came to pull Madison onto the dance floor. I went back to our table, but my parents soon joined the dancers and my grandmother went to talk to her nieces and nephews at another table, leaving me alone at ours.
I watched the dancing from my seat, leaning an elbow on the table and propping my chin in my hand. If this were a movie, I thought, Alex would come up behind me and ask me to dance. And I’d look at him in shock and ask what he was doing here, and he would tell me Amy invited him after all.
Unable to stop myself, I glanced longingly at the door to the mansion’s ballroom. No one was coming.
A couple of songs later, my dad approached me at the table. “Come on. It’s time to dance with your dad.”
I rose and took his arm, and he led me out to the dance floor. “You doing any better?” he asked.
“Just one more wedding left to go after tonight.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
I sighed. “Yeah. I’ll be okay.”
“I know you will be. You always land on your feet. Doesn’t mean you’re okay now.”
I thought for a minute. “I am okay, I guess.”
“Your mother said you were a huge help getting everything ready for the wedding.”
“It was the least I could do. I still need to make it up to everyone.”
He fixed me with a hard look. “Just be sure you’re making time to take care of yourself too.”
“I will, Dad.”
He kissed my forehead. “And remember that your mother and I love you. No matter what Jake says.”
I smiled. “It’s not too late to trade him in for a dog.”
I was rewarded with a wink. “I’m still working on your mother.”
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE