“But?” she asked.
“No buts. ‘Everything before the but is bullshit,’ isn’t that how the saying goes? Well, I already said what I needed to say. Tell me what you want me to do about this weekend and that’s what I’ll do.”
“And after that?”
I hesitated. “I want to write. My own writing. Martin and I talked and he said he’s giving me a year to figure out what I want to do. So worst-case scenario, we be polite in the halls until then. If that’s what you want.”
“What do you want?”
“I’m going to leave the ball in your court on this one.”
Caryn looked unsure. “I don’t know if we can rebuild our trust. You told the whole world things that I told you in confidence.”
I nodded. “It would take a lot of work. On both sides. But I’m willing to try if you want to.”
Her eyebrows contracted slightly. If not for the Botox, her forehead might have furrowed, but that was no longer a possibility. “Maybe you were right about the lash extensions. You look like an anime character with how round your eyes already are.”
My mouth curled into a hint of a smile. It was said without malice—a Caryn way of saying I looked better the way I normally was. “I can take them out. I’ve got the baby oil in my purse ready to go.”
“Don’t you dare before the wedding. After all of this, those pictures better be flawless.”
“Make sure I get a copy of the one where Caroline is trying to stab me with a lobster fork.”
“There’s a decent chance that actually happens.”
I grinned. “As long as she stabs somewhere covered by the dress, I’ll be fine. She can’t penetrate all of that shapewear. I’m practically bulletproof.”
Caryn shook her head and almost smiled. “I don’t actually hate you anymore. I guess that’s something.”
“I don’t want to trash you on the internet anymore. So we’re making progress.”
She looked up at the clock. “You’re out of time. I’ll see you on Friday for the rehearsal dinner. Don’t be late to that. Or Saturday.”
“I won’t.”
“And you’re on your own with the other girls.”
I imagined that to look something like the Salem witch trials, only in purple evening gowns instead of puritanical dresses, but I kept that observation to myself. Instead, I told Caryn to let me know if there was anything I could do to help while she was gone.
She said she would let me know and reminded me, with a pointed look at my peeling red nail polish, that I was supposed to wear either nude nail polish or a French manicure for Saturday. I assured her that I was waiting until Thursday to get them done, so they would be fresh for the weekend.
I didn’t quite breathe a sigh of relief, as part of me had hoped I wouldn’t have to face the wicked bridesmaids of the west again. But if our friendship could survive this, there wasn’t much that could end it.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
I wasn’t late, but I was still the last of the bridesmaids to arrive at Caryn’s rehearsal. They stared at me with what I assumed was unmitigated hatred under their frozen faces.
Then, as if cued by some dog whistle I couldn’t hear, they all turned their heads and proceeded to ignore me for the rest of the evening. Caryn’s grandmother and one of her uncles were the only two people who spoke to me all night.
Which was probably for the best.
I kept to myself the following day, as we gathered at the salon for hair and makeup. I was glad we weren’t in a hotel suite getting ready, like we would be for Sharon’s and Megan’s weddings. There was room to hide at the salon.
My phone vibrated as I waited my turn to have my makeup airbrushed on. I grabbed for it, instinctively thinking it was Alex before remembering it wouldn’t be.
Good luck. It was from Megan.
Thanks. It’s pretty awkward.
You deserve awkward.
I know.
You gonna trip that Caroline chick?
I smiled. Probably the other way around. I’m on my best behavior.
If she attacks you, try not to let her get your face. I don’t want you looking like Freddy Krueger at my wedding.
I sent a thumbs-up emoji, then looked up to see Caroline watching me through narrowed eyes. I put the phone away and stared straight ahead.
We left the salon in a limo. I sat a little ways apart, just trying to be invisible. Not that it mattered; the other bridesmaids were pretending I wasn’t there anyway. When we arrived at the historic manor house overlooking the Potomac River, we all got into our dresses while the photographer took some bathrobe shots of Caryn, and then it was time to get her into her dress.