Page 24 of I Love You, I Hate You
“Yep,” Victoria agreed, although her stomach did something strange at Owen’s assigned nickname. Because the Owen she’d seen today was nothing of the sort, and she didn’t like feeling that way. It threw her off balance and Victoriahatedbeing off balance. “He took over another class action, so I’ll be up to my elbows in depositions with him for the near future.”
“What’s his angle this time?”
She shrugged. “The usual; Smorgasbord makes its managers work overtime against their contracts. And yes, I know they do that, but, you know.”
“It’s your job,” Kimmy finished. “I get it.”
Victoria let her mom pour her a beer and they clinked their glasses together. Up on the stage a middle-aged man was struggling his way through “Desperado” and most of the audience were politely pretending he was hitting at least some of the notes. “When are we up?”
“I think there’s three more people before us.”
“Are we doing the usual?”
“For our first round, yeah,” Kimmy confirmed. “What did you do today?”
“Sat outside and read,” Victoria replied, even though that wasn’t the whole truth. But talking about the details of her day would open her up to a whole host of questions she didn’t want to deal with. “What about you? What’s new with you?”
“I think that guy from receiving might ask me out,” Kimmy said excitedly. “The cute one with the tattoos.”
“Oh, really?” Victoria said, and they settled into their familiar roles. Kimmy talked about a man at work she was interested in—she still hadn’t given up on finding her one true love despite her very dysfunctional taste in men, bless her—and Victoria stayed as neutral as possible on the topic. Her mother’s endless cycle of men was one of the reasons she wasn’t bothering with dating, even though Kimmy frequently hinted she should “get out there” more. Men would inevitably let her down and it was best to either keep things just physical, like with Owen, or make sure he didn’t know the real her, like with Luke. It kept her from getting sidetracked but, more importantly, it kept her from being disappointed.
When their names were announced they walked to the stage to a smattering of applause. Ron’s had its regulars, and she and Kimmy were something of a minor sensation. The familiar opening bars of the Annie Lennox’s “Walking On Broken Glass” kicked off, and Victoria picked up the mic.
They had it down to an art. Their voices wove around each other, harmonizing and soaring when the song called for it. Kimmy was a born performer; the spotlight loved her and she loved it back. It didn’t feel quite as natural to Victoria as it seemed for her mom, but this was something the two of them did together and Victoria loved the feeling that came with smiling at her mom across a cheap plywood stage, crowd clapping wildly for them. Kimmy bowed and held out her hands towards Victoria, who dipped into a little curtsy that had the crowd whistling even more. They high-fived and walked back to their seats, flush with the attention and satisfaction.
Direct Messages: Luke @Lukethebarnyardcat
@Noraephronwasagenius
Did I ever tell you I taught myself how to sew? I mean, Mom taught me the basics, but I figured most of the rest out myself. I got sick of kids making fun of me for my clothes not fitting right, so I just did it myself.
@Lukethebarnyardcat
You’re a really impressive human, I hope you know that
Chapter Nine
“Can we see the rings?” Mark asked. They were crowded around a hightop table at Lake Monster Brewing, the din of the crowd nearly drowning out everyone’s voices.
“You’ve definitely seen Cassie’s ring,” Andy replied. “She’s had it for at least a year and it’s sort of hard to miss.”
“It almost blinded me when I saw it the first time,” Owen agreed.
“I meant theweddingrings, not the engagement ring. Weren’t you shopping for them this weekend?” Mark said.
Andy sighed, running his fingers through his jet-black hair. It fell back into place, completely unruffled. “This one’s mine,” he said, pulling out his phone. He pointing to a silvery, plain band. “And this is Cassie’s.” He flipped to the next photo, revealing a delicate arch of emeralds supported by twining curls of white-gold.
“Ooooh,” Mark cooed, picking the phone up to look more closely at it. His broad shoulders took up nearly half the table and Owen had to move over. “What color are the bridesmaid dresses again?”
“Champagne. But it’s just Cassie’s sister standing up on her side, and my brother on mine. We’re going for small and elegant.”
“Small and elegant and two hundred and fifty guests,” Owen interjected.
“Exactly. We’re going big on some stuff, so we have to go minimalist on others,” Andy said, lifting his IPA. “That’s how you know we’re classy.” Mark opened his mouth and Andy cut him off. “Can we please talk about something other than my wedding? It’s all we’ve been doing this weekend, and with Cassie so busy at work I’m going to be dealing with the florist and photographer for the next couple of weeks and I’m burned out. Plus my mom has started hinting that we should do the Korean ceremony the night before, instead of during the reception, so it’s all I talk about these days.”
“We just want to be supportive, bro,” Mark said softly. He had the thick neck and build of a pro-wrestler, but the heart of a turn-of-the-millenium J.Lo movie.
Andy clapped him on the shoulder. “I know, I’m just tired. What’s new with you guys?” Both Owen and Mark shrugged at exactly the same time. “Aren’t you suing Smorgasbord again?” Andy asked.