Wedding Girl (13 page)

(1941)

WILLIAM POWELL AS STEVE IRELAND:
She's married now—got a husband.

MYRNA LOY AS SUSAN IRELAND:
Yeah? Whose husband has she got?

I reach up and remove my earplugs. The low thumping that woke me is now clarified as a consistent banging, which only means one thing. Bubbles is down there whaling away on chicken breasts with a cast-iron skillet. My parents are coming for dinner, and she has gotten it into her head to make chicken Kiev, which was my dad's favorite growing up. So much for sleeping in on my day off. I'm supposed to meet the girls for lunch today but had really hoped to just stay in bed until I need to get dressed. Bubbles got home late last night from a play at Writers Theatre; we made some honey-ginger tea, retreated to the den, and discovered that
Gone with the Wind
was just starting on TCM, and that settled things. Bubbles, trooper that she is, made it almost to intermission before dropping off, and when the music woke her, she headed off to bed with Snatch clicking sleepily at her heels. But I couldn't follow suit, so I was up till three finishing the movie. I was amped up anyway. Amelia had emailed me to tell me that not only had the cake looked spectacular, but it had been the most
delicious wedding cake anyone had ever had. The surprise apparently went off without a hitch, thanks to my other advice. Ever since they got back from their five-day mini-moon in Austin, they have been inundated with people telling them that it was the best wedding they had ever been to. And all the parents loved the whole thing and weren't mad in the least. More importantly, everyone raved about the cake. I didn't tell her it took me three full tries on almost every aspect to get it right; all I cared about was that it was what they wanted and it made everyone happy. Amelia and I have plans for a girls' night next week to introduce her to Ruth and Jean, and I'm strangely excited that she seems to be becoming an actual friend.

Bubbles is still thwacking away down there, so I get up and stretch a bit. I check my phone. It is nine thirty, so at least I'm up at something of a rational hour, despite my long night. I might as well get dressed and go help her. The phone also tells me I have an email from the website, so I log in to my laptop.

Wedding Girl—

Not sure if you can help. My boss is having something of a best man problem, and has asked for my help, but I don't have the foggiest idea how to deal with it. A girl in my book club mentioned your service, so I thought I would reach out on his behalf. I don't know if you handle this sort of thing, but if you do, I would like to suggest to him that he get in touch with you for assistance? I think he needs to plan a bachelor party and isn't feeling terribly confident about how to go about it. If you think you can help, let me know and I will have him reach out.

Thanks much.

Why not?

I'd be happy to hear from him, and hopefully help him out. Feel free to send him to the site and have him get in touch. And be sure to charge the fee for this first email to him!

Best,

Wedding Girl

I head off to the shower, retrieving only two lost earplugs, which means that for the few hours I was asleep, I was really dead. I get my hair up into its traditional messy bun, remember to slap on some moisturizer, and pull on a pair of leggings and a T-shirt from the Police reunion tour. I'm just getting ready to head downstairs to help Bubbles when I spot a new email on my still-open laptop.

Wedding Girl—

Well there is a first time for everything, if you had told me this morning I would be writing into a website like yours I would have bet against it. But I have something of a social conundrum, and really have neither time nor inclination to put too much effort into figuring it out on my own. My assistant assures me that you may be of help, so I am contacting you. A friend from high school recently became engaged. He has asked me to be his Best Man, and I have, of course, accepted, but now I have a bachelor party to plan, and as it turns out, the bride-to-be has five brothers of the overgrown frat boy variety. My pal and I, and our circle of friends, think the best kind of bachelor party involves steaks, martinis, good cigars, maybe some old single malt at the end of the night. They believe in more of a porno keg party with strippers/hookers. I've prepared myself to pay for the entire event so that I don't have to worry about making choices for the evening that are
financially based, since her brothers can't afford the places I would like to go, but I'm also worried about setting up an evening where there are two groups of people having separate experiences. I'm not sure how to handle the whole thing. If I plan the party I want and that I think my friend would want, it is likely to alienate his new brothers-in-law. If I give in to what they want, it will probably devolve into some debauched drunken event that will make our side of the group very uncomfortable. Not at all sure how to handle creating an event that will bring the two groups together.

Thoughts?

Best Man

It is my first email from a guy, albeit obviously a very reluctant one, which seems weirdly significant. The past week I've been getting one or two a day, so still not enough to have me rolling in dough, but steady enough that I'm hoping it might at least support the little social life I currently have. Every bit helps. I accept the question and type a quick reply.

Dear Best Man—

I'm happy to try and help. Where is this event taking place?

Wedding Girl

I scan through the rest of my emails, mostly junk. I get endless spam, the majority a result of all the research I did for my wedding. Every wedding-related solicitation you can imagine. I used to diligently unsubscribe, but now with WeddingGirl.com, I just file them away in case I need them for inspiration. While I work on this, I get another email.

Wedding Girl—

The event is in Chicago.

Best Man

Easy.

Dear Best Man—

Perfect, I'm a Chicago girl myself, so this should be a slam dunk. I feel like the key to bringing together two groups is to avoid all the situations that would appear antagonistic to either side, and look to find something that everyone would have in common. If you are steak and martinis and cigars, and they are beer and wings and boobs, then I would just avoid all of those entirely.

Since you clearly are in a position to be generous, have you thought about something that is more of an event instead of just a meal? Schedule the party on a night when there is a Cubs game at Wrigley and get a private suite. They have a pretty good catering program there, and even fancy guys appreciate the nostalgia lowbrow grub at a game, so you can have a combination of hot dogs and burgers, but also some nicer foods, and you can order the high-end booze package so that the beer is better quality and there are cocktails for those who want them. They also do special upgraded packages that can include tours or access to batting practice.

If that is beyond what you were thinking, budget wise, let me know and I will see what else I can come up with.

Wedding Girl

I head downstairs to see Bubbles at the kitchen counter, cast-iron skillet over her head.

“Good morning,
shayna punim
! Did I wake you with the banging?”

“You know you did. But it's fine. I should have been up anyway.” I kiss her cheek before she brings the skillet down with a definitive whap on the chicken breast.

“You finished the movie, didn't you?”
Smack.

“You know I did.”

“That Scarlett, you have to love her despite herself.”
Smack.

“That you do. How can I help?”

“Did you want to make the butter filling for me? Butter is already soft.”
Smack.

“Of course. Chives and shallots?”

“Perfect.”
Smack.

“How about a little bit of lemon zest just to perk it up?”

“Ooooh, that sounds delicious.”
Smack.
She takes the now enormous and thin chicken breast and puts it on the stack with the rest. “Breakfast?”

I check my watch; it is ten thirty. “Maybe just some toast. I'm meeting the girls for lunch in two hours.”

“Of course. Can I offer you a slice of this amazing caramelized white chocolate apricot brioche made by my favorite granddaughter?”

“You may indeed.”

When you slice the rich, buttery bread topped with crunchy bits of pearl sugar, you get a swirl of white chocolate, which now also has hints of caramel flavor from having been roasted, and chunks of apricot. It is a good one. Herman loved it and immediately said we would have it in the rotation all summer and to order more apricots.

Bubbles hands me two thick pieces of my bread, lightly toasted and lavished with butter. It is delicious, if I do say so myself.

“So, where are you girls headed today?” Bubbles pours us
both tea from the battered and chipped china pot that had been her mother's.

“Kiki's Bistro.”

“Ooh la la! I do love their liver and onions.”

Gack. “I know you do, Bubbles, but that is seriously gross.”

“For a fancy chef person, you certainly do have pedestrian tastes. Liver is delicious, and good for you.”

“I'm a muscle-only girl. If the meat had a larger purpose, I'm out.” Seriously, that whole “rooter to tooter” thing just squicks me out.

Bubbles sighs dramatically. “Poor girl. The wonders you are missing.”

I'm perfectly fine with my inability to choke down offal. I don't mind an off-cut like oxtail or even a crispy duck tongue garnishing a salad, but the whole innards thing? Ugh. “Well, I just prefer that
my
sweetbreads are
literally
sweet breads. Can't fault a girl for that.”

“I suppose. Do you still have time to help Kiev with me before you go?”

I check my watch. “Yep. Let's do it.”

It takes us barely twenty minutes to have eight fat Kievs all lined up. Bubbles drizzles some melted butter over the tops and then puts them in the fridge, ready to bake later.

We wash up, and I give her a kiss on top of her head before going back upstairs to make myself presentable for lunch. She is shrinking at a rapid rate. She wasn't a tall woman to begin with, but I never used to look down at her. This tugs at my gut a bit.

When I get to my room, I see that I have another email.

Wedding Girl—

My assistant mentioned that you were from Chicago. I believe you may, in fact, be a genius, and I apologize if my original
email was dismissive of your services. This idea is terrific and I've already booked the suite. Thank you for the suggestion. We may not have much in common, but luckily we are all Northsiders, so the Cubbies trump everything. I'm wondering if you had any ideas of a place to go after? My best guess is that the group will want to head somewhere post-game, and the idea of ending up at the Cubby Bear with drunken sorority girls makes my skin crawl. And if possible I'd like to avoid the kind of bar where people will start ordering rounds of shots and suggesting ending the night at VIP's Gentleman's Club. I can have transportation organized, so that isn't an issue.

Really appreciate your help.

Best Man

I notice that he has sent this not in reply to my original note but as a new question, which means he is paying full freight on it, despite it technically being a follow-up. For some reason this seriously endears him to me. I do like making ten dollars before I digest my breakfast.

Best Man—

Hmmm. Afterparty is a little bit trickier. What if you planned something out of the box instead of just going to a bar? Something active. My best recommendation would be WhirlyBall. The Chicago location also offers lasertag for those who aren't on the WhirlyBall court, they have food and drink packages, so you can make sure that those who are continuing to party are also continuing to eat so that they don't get overly hammered. Again, play into the guys being guys thing, competitive spirit, keep their minds off the fact that there are no G-strings to pop dollar bills into, and just distract them with
clean fun. WhirlyBall is open till midnight, so it makes for a plenty late enough night. If that doesn't appeal, my second guess would be to reserve some lanes at the Diversey Rock 'n' Bowl, pre-order pizzas and buckets of beer. Whichever you pick, when you are done, just to completely avoid the issue, have your transportation take you from there to Five Faces Ice Cream Shop for a late night sundae. By the time they have all sobered up a little with sweets, after a night of being a kid again, hopefully naked ladies will be the last thing on their minds, and they'll be ready to go home.

Wedding Girl