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Authors: Laura Wolf

Diary of a Mad Bride (27 page)

BOOK: Diary of a Mad Bride
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4/29 12:53
P.M.

From: Mr. Spaulding Message: Where are you?

While You Were Out

4/29 1:05
P.M.

From: Mr. Spaulding

Message: Wants to see you in his office immediately.

While You Were Out

4/29 1:06
P.M.

From: Macy's Linen Department

Message: Your grandmother-in-law has purchased monogrammed towels for you. The store needs to
confirm the spelling of your name. Is it “Stewart” or “Stuart”?

While You Were Out

4/29 1:06
P.M.

From: Kate

Message: I quit.

april 30th

Mr. Spaulding called me into his office to discuss my ability to see my “Faces in the City” issue through to completion. Perhaps
Barry
should take over. The weasel! I adamantly assured him that wouldn't be necessary. He's giving me one more—read: LAST—chance.

Meanwhile, Kate has really gone. Poof! Like a cloud of angry smoke. She requested her final paycheck and COBRA medical extension. She even took her Backstreet Boys screen saver. Barry is livid.

And I feel horrible. About Kate. Not Barry. My life has become this huge mass of scary—that spews. I'd run from me too, if I could. But I can't.

april 30th—10
P.M.

I
f a man who is prone to spontaneous gestures suddenly proposes marriage, what are the chances that he really means it? Sure, he planned my proposal. Sort of. But it's not like he ever mentioned marriage before that.

april 30th—10:30
P.M.

MANDY

Well at least this time you had the decency to have your panic attack
before
my bedtime.

ME

I'm serious, Mandy. Do you think he regrets proposing?

MANDY

Did he actually go with you to register for sheets?

ME

Yes.

MANDY

Then what greater sign of commitment do you expect from a man? Now, relax. There's no reason to worry.

may 2nd

T
he first step in solving a problem is admitting you have one: I can't plan this wedding alone.

There, I said it. Ugly but true—I need HELP.

I'd ask Stephen but he's too consumed with his computer program. He can barely get dressed in the morning let alone help plan a wedding reception. As for the band he's supposed to hire…I figure we'll be firing up my dad's 8-track and poppin' in some Pat Boone.

Then there's Mandy, who despite her pledge of fealty has basically retreated into the matrimonial black hole with Jon.

It's time for desperate measures.

may 3rd

I
asked my mother for help.

I chose five specific tasks for her to handle. Things I can't possibly do and she can't possibly screw up. I feel better already. It was the best decision I've ever made. And she was delighted.

Who knows, maybe it was a mistake not to ask for her help from the start.

I'm such an idiot.

may 4th

N
icole called this evening. She wanted to talk. (Okay.) She wanted to come over right away. (Curious.) Alone. (Ding Ding Ding!) That's when I knew something was wrong. The last time my sister came over to my apartment alone was four years ago, when I got stuck in a bustier that I bought on a whim. It was the kind that slips over your head. Getting it on was a quiet struggle, but as I fought to get out of it the metal stays caught my hair and left me naked from the waist up with my arms trapped above my head and the bustier wrapped around my face. Dialing the telephone necessitated a whole new yoga position. And since unlocking the door was physically impossible, I called Nicole, who had an extra set of my keys. It was that or my dad, and there simply wasn't enough therapy in the world that could have enabled us to recover from that experience.

But tonight as I waited for Nicole it occurred to me that perhaps she was attempting some type of pre-wedding sisterly bonding. The kind of thing Jane Austen characters did. But when she walked through the door I knew something
was wrong. She looked anxious and tired. Like she hadn't slept in weeks.

ME

Are you all right?

NICOLE

Yes and no. I need to talk to you about something. Something important.

As she sat down on the sofa Nicole took a cigarette out of her purse. My sister hasn't smoked since she was twenty-one and Chet made quitting a condition of their marriage. She glanced around the apartment and chuckled.

NICOLE

Hey, do you remember the time I came over here to rescue you from that crazy push-up bra—

ME

Yeah, yeah. It was a bustier and that's not why you came here. Now, what's going on?

NICOLE

Chet and I are splitting up.

It was like someone punched me in the stomach, then banged my head against the wall. I don't remember sitting down but suddenly I was.

ME

Are you kidding me?

NICOLE

No. It's real and it's final.

ME

What happened?!

NICOLE

A lot of things. It's been coming for a while.

ME

I had no idea.

NICOLE

We didn't advertise.

ME

But I mean, there's got to be a reason…oh God, is there someone else?

Nicole looked at me in shock.

NICOLE

How did you know that?

ME

Sonofabitch! I always suspected Chet was too good to be true. Under that Perfect Man façade was a dirtbag having an affair with some tramp!

NICOLE

Actually, I'm the dirtbag having the affair.

ME

Excuse me?

NICOLE

I said I'm the one who's having the affair. And Pablo's no tramp.

ME

Who the hell is Pablo?

NICOLE

Pablo's the guy I've been seeing for the last six months.

ME

Six months!!!!

NICOLE

I know how it sounds. But it's for the best. Chet and I haven't been happy for a while.

Nicole spent the next two hours telling me how her marriage was a mistake from the beginning. How she and Chet were so used to being together after all those years in college and how they were so afraid of the uncertainty that their post-college future held that they married out of fear and complacency. The first year was fine, but after that things just got bad. They simply weren't happy. And while Chet was willing to spend the rest of his life in denial, Nicole wasn't. She wanted to be happy. She wanted a chance to find her true self.

As I listened to Nicole's story, and wondered how some guy named Pablo who works for the cable company could help my sister find her true self, I began to feel increasingly sick. I know it sounds selfish—my sister and her husband get divorced and
I
have a nervous breakdown. But I couldn't help it. I'd always considered their relationship to be the gold standard for a healthy marriage. One where the participants were blissfully in love and whose inner workings seemed harmonious. I thought if I was really lucky I could have a marriage like hers. Now I learn that the ideal to which I aspired didn't really exist. What does that mean for me?

Nicole stood up to go.

NICOLE

Thanks for listening.

Hey, if I couldn't be there to support her wedding, I might as well be there to support her divorce.

NICOLE

I guess I just wanted to practice on you before telling Mom and Dad. I know they're going to be devastated. I just hope they remember that it's my happiness that counts most.

Yeah, right. That's what I was hoping for, and look what happened there—value, size, and frontier wedding attire.

ME

Of course they care most about your happiness. We all do.

NICOLE

Oh, and thanks for giving me the courage to end my marriage.

ME

Why me?

NICOLE

It was listening to your wedding plans that made me realize I had to leave Chet.

Excuse me,
WHAT?!

But it was too late. She was already out the door.

BOOK: Diary of a Mad Bride
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