“That’s not an option. He has his career and I want to do this on my own.” I lowered my head and my tone. “Besides, Brian…” I let my words trail off. Finishing that sentence would give Charlotte ammunition to wage another verbal war against Brian. Although her head was turned slightly away from me, I could see the you’re-not-fooling-me look in her profile. She slowly turned to face me and I cringed. Here it comes, I thought.
“Let me guess, Meg. Brian doesn’t like the idea. You won’t ask him to sign because you know he’s going to persuade you to toss the idea—right?”
Almost embarrassed, I replied, “It’s not like that. Exactly. It’s just that he thinks my working will make him look like a failure as an attorney. None of the other partners’ wives work. He said that once we’re married, I should focus on charity work and dinner parties.”
Stepping into the street, Charlotte hailed yet another cab. Irritated by the driver’s dismissal of her, she snapped, “How many decisions do you get to make? Hell, how many do you get to take part in, Meg? You’ve wanted your own bakery since I’ve known you. Now, Brian tells you that’s not what you’re supposed to want and you’re just going to throw it all away. Meg, what’s happening to you?”
I opened my mouth several times without speaking. I didn’t know how to make my friend believe something I hadn’t even convinced myself of, yet.
“Brian makes good money; he doesn’t see the need for me to work. He just wants to make things easier on me.”
“No Meg! He wants to mold you. He wants to dominate you. He’s supposed to share your dreams, not tell you what to dream. Next thing you know he’ll be telling you how to wear your hair and dictating who your friends should be.” Annoyance flashed through her blue-gray eyes, as she spat, “Don’t the cabdrivers in this God forsaken city have any decency?”
I thought back to the remark Brian had made last night about my hair. Without even knowing it, Charlotte had struck a nerve.
There was an awkward silence.
“I’m sorry, Meg. I shouldn’t have said that, but I see what he’s doing to you, even if you don’t.” She hesitated. “I don’t want to see you resent your choices down the road.”
I caught the emphasis on the word ‘your’ and guessed that her advice came from her own past mistakes. I raised an arm and gave her shoulders a squeeze.
“I know you mean well.” I hesitated, debating my next few words. “I know Brian loves me, but, sometimes… well, that feeling gets lost among all the other feelings that go with being in a relationship. Does that make any sense?”
Nodding empathetically, she replied, “Perfect sense.”
Cory joined us as a cab finally obliged Charlotte’s hailing. By her downcast expression, I assumed she hadn’t any luck with the waiter.
As the cab door slammed behind us, Charlotte teased, “What happened? Didn’t he ask for anything more than your signature on the bill?”
“As a matter of fact, he did. He asked for a name and a number.” Her tone was of mock sarcasm.
“Shouldn’t you be a little happier about it?” I asked curiously.
She flipped her hair back in an exaggerated manner. “I would be if he had asked for mine.”
Thoroughly confused, Charlotte asked the question we were both wondering. “Whose did he ask for?”
Cory pointed an accusing finger at me and said, “He wanted yours.”
Charlotte laughed aloud, as I choked out our destination. “Baldwin’s on Forty-Second, please.”
Two
...She was superstitious beyond reason and in her eyes; things were what they were, and only the imprudent tempted fate. She believed the wise lived in caution while the fool hearted lived in the moment...
We had been at Miz Blaine’s Bridal shop for close to three hours. I had shimmied in and out of more than a dozen dresses and was no closer to deciding on one than I was when I had walked in. One made me look like two of me, one flattened my barely B-cups and one was made with so much satin and lace, I swear, it weighed more than I did.
Helen, my overly eager clerk, said she had one she thought I might like and went to retrieve it. At this point, I had nothing to lose. It could turn out to be the ugliest dress in the world and I’d be no worse off than what I was right now. Ordering the cake and the flowers had gone rather smoothly and I should have known I would have to pay for the ease of those tasks somewhere along the way.
Cory’s attention span was about as long as a short city block and by this point, she had already switched her interest from silk and lace to the assortment of construction workers gathered across the street, offering commentary such as, ‘nice package’ or ‘would you look at the arms on him,’ as she waited for me to model another gown.