"Look, think about it," Marcella said. "It would mean a lot to both of us."
Right. Being one of a faceless herd of poorly dressed and over beribboned bridesmaids was just my cup of tea. Wasn't this her third or fourth wedding? Who had big weddings after the first one? Who could afford a big first wedding without taking out a bunch of loans?
I said nothing. I just hooked the dog back up, certain I was confusing him, and headed for the door. "We'll talk tomorrow. I really need to go."
Thirty minutes later, I was home, remote in hand, and picked out something brainless to watch on tv. "I"m sorry, Lou." I reached over to scratch the dog's back. "We forgot about the park."
Actually, I was pretty certain that he hadn't forgotten, he was being a good sport.
"Let's saddle up and go."
I tucked my driver's license, a five dollar bill, and a plastic grocery sack into my back pocket. Releashed the dog, and headed out the door.
"Wanna walk this time?" There were usually five or six good light poles he liked to sniff on our way to the neighborhood park, a couple of garbage cans, and street signs. I like to think of it as wee mail - hoping he's not only able to identify the sender but any kind of a message. Sure I give him way too many human characteristics, but there's no crime in that, is there?

My cellphone chimed with "I'm Too Sexy," my grandmother's ringtone.
"Hey, Grandma," I said. "What's going on?"
Turned out quite a lot. My father had never planned to pay for my wedding, as he'd never approved of Grady, and the initial bills for his own were devastating to him. He was looking at thirty-five dollars per person according to the caterer and it didn't include the cake, the cost of the venue, or the KC and the Sunshine Band tribute band, much less the cost of her dress, the rings, and a honeymoon.
"He wants us to cater the wedding ourselves," she said. "And I don't cook. I gave it up when you moved away."
"I thought you still cooked for the holidays? Everything tastes like it used to."
Then again, my memory was faulty and I had done most of the cooking the last two Christmases ... the Stouffer's Lasagna tasted like it always had. Garlic bread from the grocery was no mean chore either. (Now is it feet, fete, or feat? I'm voting for feat but only because I like to make my choices at the last minute.)
"He wants to for a picnic."
"Ok. Does Marcella know that?"
Based on the silence, I doubted she did. Marcella might have been the Mother Earth Goddess at work, but she liked her Mother Earth upscale - organic bean sprouts, hand squeezed tofu, hand spun hemp in her huaraches.
"How long have they been engaged?" I asked. What I really wanted to know was if I was the last one to be in the loop.
"I don't know, five, maybe six months," Grandma said. "I thought you knew."
I had been living in my own world. The longest conversations outside of the work related taht I seemed to have with my father was about whether he wanted his burger medium or well done and if he wanted ranch or honey mustard dressing on his salad.
"Nope. Have invitations gone out? What does he need for me to do?" I asked. My whole family knew my stance on weddings. Marriage was a different thing - I support marriage and marriage counseling. But spending the equivalent of a new car on one afternoon or evening was beyond my imagination ... sentimental I am, sort of. Practical is more like it; more likely to have a house of brick than of wood, that was me. The practical pig from the story of the three little pigs - always going for safe and reliable.
If I'd taken my purse to the park, I could have rooted around the bottom for a piece of scratch paper and a pen so I could take notes. But since I'd gone free of additional encumbrances, I decided to walk Louie back home; he'd emptied his bladder and had enough adventure for one afternoon.
"How many people?" I asked. I closed the gate behind us to ensure the Yorkie, whose feet hadn't ever touched the ground while we were there, wouldn't escape his owner's clutches.
"He was thinking a couple of hundred," Grandma said.
I couldn't stop the gasp from escaping. Sure I can cook a holiday meal for twelve more or less by myself. I've done company picnics where other people helped lay some of the stuff out, but I ran the grills and fed about thirty. This was more than six times what I was used to doing, even on the best of days.
"Business contacts," I said. "Repaying everyone for everything they've invited him to for years, right?"
We both knew the answer was yes. Definitely I'd know at least a couple of people who were going to be there. Maybe I could scrounge a date from one of the guys who worked for the company - do the friend of a friend thing. I just didn't want to go to his wedding alone and feed the speculation about where Grady was and why he'd moved on so quickly when it was apparent to everyone that I hadn't.
Grandma cleared her throat. "A few people I know, too. I do keep a hand in, you know."
A networker from way back, Grandma had a longer Christmas card list than the White House with more reliable people on her contact list. She was still in touch with her first college roommate, Barbara, and more than fifty years had passed.
Well now I knew that if and when I met Mister Right or even Mister Right Now, I wouldn't be inundated with a group of people I had never met at my wedding. My dad was going to repay all of his social obligations on his own. Cool.
"If that many people are coming, I don't need to be in the ceremony," I said. That was a major relief. I can do the background work, no problem. I can stick people in the spotlight and make them look good - easy. Me standing in the spotlight was a whole different story and not a pretty one.
"So Lillian backed out again?" Grandma said. "She always was flighty."
It was one thing to think that I was being chosen as Maid of Honor or Bride's Maid extraordinaire because of family link, bonding and all of that. But knowing I was a backup was a bit of a blow. Surely I knew I didn't really want to be part of it, but somehow knowing that I wasn't first choice, and maybe not even in the top five, stung just a little and it was more than I could stomach at the moment.
"Grandma, Louie is getting a little too friendly with a little dog on the other side of the park, I need to go before he gets too rambunctious."
Before she could say anything, I disconnected the call.
It was a lie. So what? Who was going to catch me or even realize? I didn't want to cry on the phone to my grandmother about my hurt feelings about the wedding. There were more important things like looking for a better job, one way from family and friends. Finding a new place to live. Maybe even adopting a cat; cats are less emotionally needy than dogs, it might be a good fit. It wasn't like I hadn't done it before or would never do it again.
Grandma wasn't done talking, she must have pushed redial six or seven times. Today I just didn't want to know any more about what was going on.
I sent her a text, "I'll talk to you in a couple of days. I have another commitment right now."
Another lie. The only commitment was to Louie, mushroom and sausage pizza. His favorite. I'd be ordering a salad, dry. The only part about eating a salad that is good is the dressing you can put on it, but if I was going to go as the backup to the backup to the backup, I might want to lose just a little bit of extra weight. and to think only two months ago I shed 180 pounds almost overnight.
~~~
tbc
word count: 1546
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