In the middle of January, Valerie got married. Three inches of snow covered the ground. My satin shoes would get wrecked if I wore them outside. I wore winter boots under my dress which angered Mom, but I couldn't care less. Her opinion didn't matter much to me.
The bridesmaid dress made me look sickly pale. Valerie's friends looked gorgeous. Their blond hair and perfect skin made them appear radiant. Everyone thought the dresses got created with them in mind. I smiled at the bridesmaids and maid of honour. They snickered at me. My dress had the hideous sleeves, while their dresses had capped sleeves. Why did my dress look different? Only one answer came to mind. Mom. Of course, Mom would make me look hideous on Saint Valerie's wedding day. As if I would upstage the bride.
I thought Valerie resembled a white whale in her wedding dress. It was not because she was overweight, because even at three months pregnant, she was skinnier than me. Her dress was too puffy. The bottom skirt was bell-shaped, which required wearing a crinoline to keep the fabric expanded. The bodice fitted tight to her chest, but the shoulder straps and arms contained ruffles, making her arms look chunky. You couldn't see any cleavage since the dress fastened to her neck. Only her hands were visible from the neck down.
It was a hideous dress, and it firmed my position on eloping. There was no way in heaven or hell that I'd let my mother plan my wedding. Her tastes were old-fashioned and gaudy.
The music played, cuing my walk down the aisle. I counted the steps we practiced the previous night, ignoring everyone staring at me. Mom grinned as I approached her. Then her lips thinned into a grimace. She wasn't amused. Mom would blame me for ruining Valerie's wedding. It wasn't my fault Mom picked the dress.
I stifled a laugh when Valerie sat at the reception table. The front of her dress raised higher than the table height. If not for the lacy pantaloons she wore, everyone would have seen her panties. Who wears pantaloons? Man, Steve was going to be disappointed when he removed Valerie's gown. I had to help Valerie shove the fabric beneath the table. Valerie's maid of honour, Shirley, was too busy flirting with the best man. "Thanks, Steph," Valerie whispered.
Mom preened over Valerie. I rolled my eyes when Mom bragged that she made all the wedding plans and chose the dresses. Many of the women said she had excellent taste in fashion. I disagreed with their assessment. My dress covered from my neck to my toes. The long sleeves were itchy, and I could feel my skin breaking out in hives from the scratchy fabric.
During the requisite pictures, the photographer kept saying, "I'll photoshop it," whenever I was in the image. It embarrassed me and made Mom scowl. One day, that expression on Mom's face would become permanent. I was relieved when the photographer announced he was finished until the reception. At least there, I could have a few drinks and ignore him.
In true Italian style - our version of it - we had minestrone, ravioli, veal parmigiana, chocolate cannoli and the traditional wedding cake. There was too much food, but I savoured every bite. Valerie barely took two mouthfuls of each dish before getting whisked away and replaced with the next. The noise of knives clanking against the wine glasses was nearly constant, forcing Valerie and Steve to stand and kiss. I had to pass Valerie the chapstick to moisten her dry lips. Shirley continued to flirt with the best man.
When I used the washroom after dinner, I noticed my face got blotchy. Mom had entered the room to fix my makeup. Instead of looking classy, I resembled a two-dollar whore playing dress-up. I looked into the mirror again and decided I looked like a child who got into their mother's makeup. Honestly, it didn't matter what I resembled because it was not flattering.
"Is Stephanie okay?" Mrs. Sutton asked Mom.
"She's fine," I heard Mom reply. "I told her to get a tan in one of those tanning beds, but she never listened. Why me? Why can't Stephanie be like her perfect sister? Why did she have to embarrass me today?" I used a tissue to blot my eyes. With the extra makeup, you'd notice if I cried. My tears would cut a trench into the thick layer of foundation Mom plastered on my skin.
I had successfully managed to avoid Joseph Morelli. My cousin, Vinnie - the disgusting deviant pig - danced with me whenever Morelli was free. Eddie Gazarra, Carl Costanza and Hank Dodger - Big Dog - took turns with me on the dance floor. It was getting late, and I wanted to go home. I had an exam on Monday.
After dancing to the requisite songs for the wedding party, I slipped through the door of the Polish hall and climbed into my car. I shoved my boots onto my feet and tossed the tight, uncomfortable three-inch heels into the backseat. Instead of returning to the house, I drove back to Newark. I doubted my mother would notice I had left the reception early. If she did, I didn't care.
It was several months before I returned Mom's calls. She left many messages after Valerie's wedding, admonishing me from leaving the reception without saying goodbye. "Why me? Why does my daughter have to be rude? It's embarrassing, Stephanie. Mrs. Collin's daughter, Jenna, never leaves a wedding without saying goodbye to her family," Mom had said. I deleted the voicemail. When I heard her voice on the following fifteen messages, I deleted them without listening past "Stephanie, this is your mother," as if I wouldn't recognize her voice.
Mom tried to convince me to come home on various weekends. I had no interest in dealing with her bullshit of setting me up with the losers - I mean men - of the Burg. Mary Lou was kind enough to warn me before wasting gas to go home. The latest dinner guest was Joseph Morelli. Mom knew what Joe did and she still wanted me to date him? No, thank you. I was not interested.
Valerie left a voicemail seven months after her wedding. "Hi, Stephanie. I wanted to let you know I gave birth to your niece, Angie Helen Sutton. Thank you for the motorized swing. Angie loves it. Call me when you can," Valerie said. She ended the call when Angie started crying. I smiled, happy that Valerie used the gift instead of returning it for cash. Mom probably thought I stole it since I barely had enough money to pay for school.
I applied for scholarships, as Lester suggested. He was right, of course. The college had several scholarships available. With my grades, I received enough funds to pay for my second-year tuition and residence fees. I made enough money at my job to pay for books, food and gas. Sure, I starved most days, but I managed on my own. Daddy paid the insurance premium for my car. I paid for gas.
Lester and I managed to email each other a few times. He asked if I was available during Labour Day weekend. I was supposed to work, so I politely declined. Lester said they'd be at Club Carina on Friday night should my plans change. I said I had to work early Saturday and couldn't meet with him.
On Friday afternoon, my boss said I could have the weekend off with pay. He was pleased I worked many shifts to cover vacations for the full-time staff. I slipped into tight jeans and a fitted top to meet Lester at Club Carina. He would be excited to see me. I straightened my hair using the iron I borrowed from my roommate, Cassidy. She helped me with the back. I was excited to see Lester.
Imagine my surprise when I entered the club and found three beautiful women hanging off Lester. I saw him touch the back of his neck and turn around. He caught my eye but continued to look around. Lester never recognized me. One of the women got his attention and kissed him. He appeared to willingly return the kiss. When his hands moved to her ass and pulled her against his body, I turned around and left. We never agreed to date or be exclusive, but I was hurt all the same. My heart ached for the love lost. "Not a player, my ass. And I'm Mother Teresa."
I fought back the tears as I drove home. Cassidy took one look at my face and pulled me into her arms. My roommate removed the bottle of alcohol she had stashed in her luggage. Cassidy grabbed a few plastic cups and poured a generous amount into my cup. We drank the vodka she had smuggled into our dorm room. In the morning, I woke up with potato chips and M stuck to my cheek. Thankfully, I didn't vomit in my bed. That would have been a horrible mess to clean.
My phone rang, making a thousand drummers inside my head bang their instruments to the rhythm of my heartbeat. I lifted the phone to see it was Lester calling. He should have called last night. Declining the call, it went directly to my voicemail. A few minutes later, I heard my phone chime to indicate I had received a message.
"Cass, can you listen to this?" I said, passing her my phone. She connected to my voicemail and listened to the message.
"He said sorry for missing you last night. That he felt you in the club, but couldn't find you. A woman kissed him, and he instinctively reacted since he hadn't had sex since the day you two met. He didn't go home with the woman, and he left within a few minutes. Steph, you need to listen to his message," Cassidy pleaded.
Was she serious? I wasn't interested in anything Lester had to say. Why wait until today to call? How was I supposed to believe he didn't sleep with the woman, then lied in the message? Lester had plenty of time to do the deed. Who's side was Cassidy on?
"No," I snarled. I took the phone from her hand, deleted the voicemail, then blocked his number. "We aren't dating, and he can fuck any woman he wants." I never mentioned the three women were gorgeous, sexy and had larger breasts. What would Lester want with me - an average woman from the Burg? It was time I stopped waiting for him.
I logged into my email account and deactivated it after setting up a new one. Any website I had associated with my email got updated with the new address. Lester Santos needed to find another woman to patiently wait for him to return while he scratched an itch with the random bar skanks.
"Sweetie, you're acting out of hurt. You should give him a chance to explain," Cassidy said. I shook my head. Cassidy was a romantic. She believed in fairytales and happy endings. I had experienced enough humiliation to last a lifetime.
"I've done that before, or have you forgotten about Joe Morelli? He took my virginity before leaving for the Navy. Joe never called or wrote to me. All I got were derogatory comments showcasing his actions in the men's washrooms around town. I'm not going to let another man embarrass me again. I refuse to be someone's play thing."
Cassidy hugged me as I cried. "I hope you don't live to regret this decision," she whispered. I shrugged before pulling out of her arms. Truer words have never been spoken. It was a shame I never heeded her advice.