Elly smiled and nudged him with her elbow. “Well, it was between you and the craziest woman I have ever met. You weren’t the obvious choice, but I figured, hey – why not?”
Anthony laughed. “You’re terrible.” He took a slow drink of water. “Elly, I don’t know you very well, but I know you’ll get over this. It doesn’t feel like it right now, but you will. You’ll emerge stronger on the other side. He doesn’t deserve you. He never did. God will see it through, girl.”
Elly nodded, trying to hide her suddenly blurry eyes. “Thank you, Anthony. You are an extraordinary person.”
As she looked at the ground, a pair of pink sneakers stepped into her line of sight. “Um, I know you guys are having a moment or whatever, but the linens are up and the wedding party is going to be here any minute.” Snarky Teenager looked at Elly. “I know you need a break from the stairs, but you might not want the bride to know.”
Elly closed her eyes for a moment and imagined herself flinging Snarky Teenager down the hill by a lacy bra strap. “I’m coming. Be nice.” She pulled herself up and walked towards the centerpieces huddled together in the shade near the entrance.
The three of them hurried to place all the flowers onto the tables, anxious to complete the job. Each table got a large urn, overflowing with large circus roses, which were then surrounded by a ring of cranberries and vanilla votive candles. Each white chair was draped with a champagne chair cover and chocolate bow. Elly placed a single wired pinecone into each nook on the back of the ribbon. Anthony finished the job by sprinkling the head table with handfuls and handfuls of red rose petals, so only the plates were visible in a sea of crimson. Elly stepped back to look at their work. The cement Pavilion had been turned into a rustic fall celebration, blazing with vibrant reds, oranges and yellows. It was a masterpiece. She felt a momentary peace, watching Anthony and Snarky Teenager head back down the river of stairs, glancing back at a job well done.
It was then that she saw them, walking playfully over the ridge: the bride and groom, followed by their photographer. Her bride, Cynthia, looked luminous in a fitted mermaid dress with elaborate ruching and a large black sash just under her bust. Her hair was covered with a short netted veil, accented with a silk black flower. The groom held her hand as she climbed up on a small brick wall for pictures, then leapt up beside her. He whispered something in her ear as he tucked back a stray piece of hair behind it. She smiled coyly and kissed his face softly. He wiped her lipstick off his cheek and they both laughed, the photographer capturing every second, their happiness unmistakable. Elly felt a formidable grief rush through her, as though she had been impaled through the heart. She looked back at her bride, who had transformed from the sweet and lovely Cynthia to a devilish Lucia, her deep red curls whipping around her face as Aaron stared into her eyes, captivated by their angry green hue. They both turned and looked toward Elly, whispering to each other as they sized her up, devouring every ounce of self esteem she had left. They locked lips passionately, clasping at each other with fervor. Elly turned and vomited into a bush.
She closed her eyes and waited for the dizziness to stop as she wiped her mouth with her hand. Above her, she heard the voices of bridesmaids.
“Eww…did that lady just BARF?”
She opened her eyes in time to see Cynthia walking towards her, true concern etched on her kind face. Elly held her arm out to keep her away.
“Cynthia, I’m so sorry. I think I might have the flu. Or a bad lunch. Or both. Yeah, it was probably the salmon. Um, congratulations – you look lovely.” Elly turned and fled down the hill. She climbed into the white van, which was idling by the side of the road, slammed the door and said, “Just go. I don’t want to talk about it.”
Anthony nodded, but Snarky Teenager snapped, exasperated, “What do you mean you don’t want to talk about it? You just barfed into a BUSH at a WEDDING. Oh my God, are you pregnant?”
Elly spun around to face her. “What?! Am I pregnant? First of all, that’s an impossibility at this point. Secondly, when I say I don’t want to talk about it, I mean, I DON’T want to talk about it.”
Snarky Teenager looked as if she had been slapped in the face. “I’m sorry, but if you are going to throw up in a bush and then not want us to mention it, then you are being totally WHACK.”
Anthony bent over the steering wheel, laughing, “Did you just say whack? What is that?”
Elly took a deep breath and allowed a smile to crack her face, trying not to focus on the vile taste in her mouth. “Yeah, what is the definition of whack, exactly?”
Snarky Teenager groaned loudly and crossed her arms in front of her, pointedly pouting. “I should totally get a job at Dairy Queen. I hate you guys.”
“That would be totally whack,” Anthony deadpanned. Elly laughed, but it was hollow. All she could think was that if she couldn’t handle seeing another couple getting married without seeing Aaron and Lucia, what would happen if she actually had to see them together?
CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN
As evening clouded over, Elly struggled to find both an appropriate outfit and mentality for Isaac’s band gig. Staring in her mirror, she declared “This is not working.”
The empty apartment concurred. Elly had on a black pencil skirt with tan boots and a white peasant blouse. It was good in theory, but she looked like a frumpy kitchen maid. Or worse. “Ugh,” she uttered and tore off her shirt.
Maybe her blue sleeveless top? She pulled it over her head. Nope. Now she was the blueberry girl from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, only with worse hair. Elly slumped on the edge of the bed. Cadbury trotted over and happily gave her toes a tongue bath.
“What am I going to wear to this stupid club?” she moaned. She reached over and grabbed the phone.
Kim answered quickly, “Sean, I dropped this kiwi and I can’t pick it up. Hello?”
“Hi, it’s me. What can I wear that doesn’t say ‘I just found out that my ex is getting married to his mistress’ or ‘I’m a train wreck’ or ‘today I barfed at a wedding?’”
“No Sean, I can’t just pick it up, it’s directly underneath me – do you want me to kill our baby picking up a kiwi? Elly, go to your closet. Do you have that black cap-sleeved shirt that I bought you last year?”
Elly walked to the closet and pushed her hangers back, one by one. “Yes.”
“Okay, now wear your dark boot cut jeans, a pair of black heels and your pink cashmere scarf. Tie it around your neck and wear those dangly gold coin earrings. Oh no, I just dropped the knife.”
Elly pulled on the jeans and tied the scarf around her neck. Slipping on her heels, she spun around and checked the result out. “Okay, I look sort of cute. Well, passable. You’re good.”
She could hear Kim chewing. “Yes, I know. Remember, don’t bring up the Aaron thing tonight. It’s Isaac’s night to shine.”
“You don’t have to worry. I don’t want to EVER talk about Aaron with him.” Elly raised her eyebrows in the mirror. “Okay, well, I better run. Thanks for the clothing advice. And for everything else in between.”
“Uh-huh. Sean – the water is boiling over!” And with that, the phone clicked to a dial tone. Elly had just enough time to pluck her eyebrows before she heard the doorbell outside the shop.
“Coming!!” she yelled, as she grabbed her purse, slyly tucking a book inside. It wasn’t that Everest Oppressed was boring. It was just the three opening bands that she had to watch first, just to get to their set that she couldn’t stand. She ran down the steps and out the door, to where Isaac was waiting, looking dapper in tight jeans and a loosely buttoned plum colored shirt. He placed both of his arms around Elly, pulling her face close to his.
“I missed you,” he murmured, kissing her cheeks, her closed eyes, her chin and then finally her lips. Elly surrendered to his warm mouth.
As they kissed, Elly thought to herself, How can I still be so thrilled with Isaac when I’m obviously not over Aaron? She felt a deep guilt in her so
ul and pulled away from Isaac, as though he could sense her thoughts.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Oh, nothing. A long day at work. We had a wedding.”
“Did you have a bridezilla?” he asked.
Elly looked at him, amused. “Did you hear that word on TV?”
He laughed. “I did actually! I thought I would use it in a sentence today, just for you.”
Elly stood on her tiptoes and nuzzled his chin. “You make me smile. Did you know that?”
Isaac wrapped his hands around her waist. Elly sucked in sharply.
“I felt that!” he whispered.
Elly stepped back. “We better go. You don’t want to miss your set.”
Isaac glanced longingly at the apartment overhead. “Or we could just stay in…drink some wine…shed some clothing…”
Elly rolled her eyes. “Into the car. Now.”
Isaac smiled and ran around to his side of the car. Elly sat down inside, wrinkling her nose at the hazy smell of cigarettes. Isaac kissed her hand. Please let me get through tonight without crying, she thought.
They took the highway east, soaring past Forest Park until they arrived in the Central West End. The Central West End was sometimes called The Heart of the City, but what it really was was the heart of the money in the city. Lush art galleries, specialty shops and fine French restaurants lined its wide streets. It was an eclectic showcase of St. Louis, tucked away under broad trees, their branches creating a canopy over the old brick buildings. Isaac pulled perfectly into a front row parking spot, just off the main street, placing them directly across from the club.
Elly looked at him, exasperated. “Everything in life just works out for you, doesn’t it?”
Isaac grinned, his white teeth gleaming. Elly’s chest condensed with longing. “Pretty much. I’ve always been lucky.”
Elly grimaced at him. “Yeah. I’ve noticed. My life, not so much.”
Isaac took her hand. “But now you’re with me. I’d say your luck is a-changin’.”
Aaron is marrying her, she suddenly thought. “Take me inside” she whispered.
The Paradox Club was in an old mill, which sat conveniently across from numerous hipster bars. Isaac took Elly around the back entrance, which momentarily thrilled her.
“It’s like we’re famous!” she gushed.
Isaac rolled his eyes at her. “It’s just the back door. The cooks come in this way, too.”
“Why are you ruining it for me? Go on, I’m waiting for the paparazzi.”
The club was just starting to fill up. Isaac led Elly to the small table that was in the back of the room. The club was beautiful – a far cry from the tiny club where they had their first date. It smelled the same – cigars, heavy musk, and a hint of rum in the air. The walls of the Paradox were swagged with elaborate fabrics in deep oranges and purples. There were rock outcroppings lining the wall, and tiny white lights shimmered from within them, giving the effect of a desert canyon at dusk. Overhead, mobiles of copper plates spun and reflected, throwing their light around the room. Elly rubbed her hand against Isaac’s chiseled back.
“This is really, really nice. You guys are certainly moving up in the world!”
Isaac simply nodded. He looked bewildered. “This is the biggest venue we’ve ever played in.” His color drained. “What if we screw up?”
Elly took his hand in hers. “You won’t. You guys are great.”
Isaac seemed to be barely listening. “You know, Tifah keeps screwing up her cadenza and Gene can’t seem to find the fifth, even if he’s sitting on it…” He kept talking.
Elly stared into his eyes, something that she always found easy, but had a hard time keeping up with his thoughts. It seemed that every minute or so, her mind wandered back to Aaron. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Lucia standing in a wedding dress, smirking, Aaron wrapped around her, gazing lovingly back at Elly as his hands splayed across Lucia’s chest.
Isaac’s voice cut through her illusions. “I told him to come in on the second beat, and what does he do? He says that I’m being pretentious and rigid and that I’m not allowing the music to flow through him. I told him that was just a commercial view of our music, and to really shoot us into the stratosphere, that we needed to embrace music tradition in order to free our creativity…”
Elly beamed up at him encouragingly, appearing as if she was listening. He looked so nervous that she just wanted to console him and take him in her arms until the whole thing was over. He was still in the middle of his rant when the lights dimmed.
The first band took the stage. Isaac leaned back in his seat, obviously agitated. The first band was an Irish fusion, according to Isaac. They were very good and finished their set to thunderous applause. The second band, led by a roguish looking trumpet player, took the stage and began a phenomenal jazz set. Elly kept glancing over at Isaac in the dark club. He was beautiful, as always, his curly brown hair falling over his eyes and his tan skin flushed with a thin layer of sweat. But what Elly saw tonight were his nerves. His leg was shaking under the table, and he had torn a napkin into a thousand shreds. It looked like maybe it was his turn to throw up today. She reached across the table, stroking his thumb with her finger.
He looked at her pleadingly and then blurted, “We aren’t as good as these people. They are going to laugh us off the stage. We aren’t that prepared.”
Elly felt her energy draining. The emotions of the last two days had taken a toll on her mind, and she didn’t know if she could handle the mental cartwheels that it would take to boost Isaac’s ego. She looked at his forlorn face and steeled herself. Circling the table, she knelt beside him, taking his gorgeous face in her hands. “You’re wonderful. Your band is wonderful. You are so talented and this is what you deserve. So go out there and take what’s yours. You can only control what you play, and what you do. Don’t worry about Tifah, don’t worry about Gene. Worry about you. And I can tell you,” she murmured, nurturing his ego, “That you are very talented.”
Elly saw a glimmer of relief cross Isaac’s face. “You mean it?” he asked adoringly.
“I do.” She kissed him softly and returned to her seat. He leaned back, still pale, but looking a bit more assured. Elly ordered another drink.
On the stage, the jazz band was winding down with a slow and pulsating song. Elly found her mind drifting back to Aaron, aided by the fading notes of the guitar on stage. She thought of the last time she saw him. The look on his face when he defended his lover and not his wife. The morning of that fateful day, the way they snuggled under the covers. His face as she walked up the aisle in her mother’s backyard. Elly felt tears brimming in her eyes. For goodness sakes, HOLD IT TOGETHER, she told herself. Push him out of your mind. Think of something else..think of…Elly tried desperately to think of something positive…Chinese food and cool pools! She let her mind linger on the drifting of a rubber raft in Kim’s pool and the taste of salty lo mein into her mouth.
The emcee took the stage, following thunderous applause for the jazz set. “We’re going to take a short break and then we will return to hear our newest band…Everest Oppressed!”
The crowd clapped politely. Elly looked at Isaac, and then down at his hands. They were shaking slightly, rattling the ice cubes in his half empty Scotch. He stood up, looking lost and terrified.
Elly looked at him, trying to radiate assurance and calm. “You are going to be fantastic. Just breathe.”
Isaac started to walk toward the stage. Elly sat back in her chair, relieved, and took a sip of wine. She was not in any state to be someone’s emotional rock. Not this weekend, anyway. She heard whispers in front of her. Elly pulled her gaze away from her empty glass and looked toward the stage. Isaac was walking back from the stage, right towards her. Hundreds of audience eyes and a spotlight followed him as he vaulted up the stairs and stood in front of Elly. There was something dangerous and dramatic in his eyes.
“Elly,” he declared loudly, “say
that you love me.”
Elly blinked rapidly. Had she misheard him? She managed to utter, “Um, what?”
Isaac raised his arms to the ceiling, as if embracing the universe with his awesomeness. “I can’t go on the stage unless you love me. Your love is all I need. If I have that, then I’m GOLDEN, and nothing I do will matter, because I have the love of a perfect woman!” His voice boomed through the crowd, and they twittered around him with excitement. Every woman in the room swooned while at the same time questioning why this gorgeous guitar player was obviously head over heels for this moderately attractive woman. Elly wanted to die. She wondered if Isaac would notice her crawling under the table. Oh Lord, she pleaded silently, let this not get any worse.
Then he knelt in front of her. “Tell me that you love me, and there is no feat that could ever weather this heartsick musician.”
Elly heard sighs echo all around her. Oh god, oh no, WHAT is he doing?
Elly felt the spotlight hot on her body, the wine rushing through her veins, and the eyes of everyone in the club upon her face. Isaac was on the ground in front of her, a gorgeous Adonis of a man, dazzling and resplendent with his guitar strapped across his back. Just do it, Elly thought. Screw Aaron. Screw Lucia. I’ll be happy with Isaac.
“I…” the crowd hushed. “I…I love you. Yes, I love you.”
Isaac threw his arms up to the ceiling. “SHE LOVES ME!!!” The crowd erupted in drunken cheers. Isaac kissed Elly hard on the mouth and dashed back down to the stage, taking the stairs two at a time. He got to the stage, whipped his guitar around and palmed the mike. “This first song is called Curves of a Woman and it’s inspired by that woman, my muse, my all.”
With that, Everest Oppressed launched into their first number with gusto, drums blazing and Gene moaning into the microphone. Elly put her head onto the table, trying to drown in the tsunami of guilt washing over her. What had she done? What was he thinking? What…WAIT. What were they SINGING about?