A Wedding of Coincidence (Part 1)
A Wedding of Coincidence (Part 1)
Jamee
“In the part of the universe that we know there is a great injustice, and often the good suffer,
and often the wicked prosper, and one hardly knows which of those is the more annoying.”
Bertrand Russell (1872 – 1970)
Another breath then open the eyes and make another horrible face. Why in the world had she agreed to this? Tossing her hair back over her shoulder she examined herself critically in the floor length mirror. The dress was awful, something to be thrown in the closet after this wearing, she was sure the other bridesmaids felt the same way tucked into mustard colored jacquard brocade. Brocade in the middle of an Atlantan summer! What was that silly wench thinking? As if the color was not hideous enough it seemed to Jamee that it made her fatter looking, rather like a big overdeveloped pear with the mass of crinoline beneath the mustard stain of fabric. It itched and she wanted to scratch her legs raw, but would have shredded the delicate nylons beneath. Curse that man and his obsession with money, not enough to even cover all his debts. Rolling her eyes she glanced again, this time avoiding the tragedy of a bridesmaids dress. Her face was oval, framed with long hair that was cut in long layers to lighten weight and give volume, and that she had enough of with all the hairspray indicated by the bride so her hair would not move from its carefully teased extravagance. Her wide blue eyes were protected with long lashes, one of her better features. Her nose was short and piggish, her top lip smaller than the lower. She didn’t see herself as beautiful, but others told her so without giggling too much.
Moving away from the mirror so others of the wedding party could admire themselves she sat heavily onto a chair, propping her chin in her hands. A quick glance at her hand and she was convinced by the end of the day both her legs and her hands were going to be scratched messes. By orders of the bride she wore a thin gold ring on her right hand, can’t detract from the brides jewelry but still show solidarity with the wedded couple. It already had painted a red line across her skin; it would soon itch then blister. Why couldn’t she be normal and wear gold without looking like a chemical had been splashed across the area? Serves them all she thought, astutely avoiding another bridesmaids glance that I will end up with an allergic reaction to the damn gold and have sunstroke by the end of the day, they can pay the E.R. bill.
How did she find herself in this situation, watching her former lover marry another, be friends with the woman who would soon be a mistress and thrown into a girly secrets relationship with a bride that could barely spell cat, at least in English? Shaking her head she wondered at the wisdom of her decisions not that she could change a thing now, but it would be nice.
Pathetic, that is what is was, a pathetic sham and all parts of the whole were victims of lust, greed and revenge. Jamee was the last her own relationship with the groom was born from being hurt by another man. She had apologized about the circumstances but not regretted the entire affair. Revenge was sweet especially since for months she tormented her former lover with them being at engagements together, laughing as if no cares were there. There are always cares, worries and that was when it started to get more complicated, and enough was not enough for the groom. To think in the same room shall be too many people who knew what happened in each other’s beds.
One thing Jamee, thought, I will not be the home wrecker in this debacle, that honor belongs to Vanessa. Instinctually Jamee looked up and found the other bridesmaid with her eyes. Yes, I am abolished from the bed and good riddance I need not to be labeled an adulterer, slut is almost too much to deal with.