Page 56 of Mark
“That dress was definitely a set up,” Mark growls.
“Where is your dress?” Mother screeches, racing to meet us on the ramp. She has a three-piece suit on, the colour a soft orange. She tilts her head, and now her large, matching hat is no longer blocking her face, I can see her annoyance.
“It ripped,” I reply.
“It ripped?” Esther bites out. “You did something to it. You just couldn’t let me have my day, could you?”
“The dress was ugly,” Mark spits out. “And not to mention dangerous. It was too tight and the material was way too thick. She would have fainted from wearing it in this heat. The rip did your sister a favour.”
“It was too tight?” Mum asks, then glances at Esther. “Why was the material thick?”
“I didn’t know she had put so much weight on. That’s not my fault,” she rebuffs. “And I wanted her dress to be different as my maid of honour.”
“You have a matron of honour who has been a lot more involved, who is wearing something more suitable,” I point out.
“Well, you can’t stand up there with them now,” Mum grouches. “You’ll look odd against all the other bridesmaids’ dresses.”
“She would have stood out in that dress a lot more,” Mark politely replies. “There was no blending in with it.”
“I’ll sit with Mark if it’s an issue. It’s not a problem,” I reply.
Mark slips his fingers through mine. I should tense, pull back, but I find myself squeezing my fingers around his. “I’m good with that.”
“No. No, no, no,” Esther cries, and some of the petals from her bouquet fall to the ground. “You will not ruin any more of this day for me. You can stand right next to me.”
I shrug. “Okay.”
“Let’s all get in the cars. We are going to be late,” Mother scolds.
A cunning look passes over Esther’s expression. “I’m worried we’ll all be cramped in the limo and I want the ride to be relaxing. You and your friend can go in the cart,” she offers sweetly.
I glance over her shoulder, seeing the cart in question. “Okay,” I agree. She wants me to fight back. She wants the scene and the drama. And she won’t get it from me. I hand over the jewellery box I pull from my bag. “I bought you this to wear, but you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
She takes the box, but it’s Mum who speaks. “That is so lovely of you.”
“I don’t want to wear a bracelet. It will make my wrist go green,” Esther admits, closing the lid.
I shrug off the cheap comment. “That’s fine. You look beautiful as you are.”
“Either way, the gesture is sweet. Isn’t it, Esther?” Mum remarks.
“We are going to be late,” she responds, making her way down the ramp to the limo.
Mark and I head for the cart, both of us taking a seat at the back.
“Is she really going to make you stand up there whilst they exchange vows?” he asks when we begin to move.
I watch the driver in the limo as I answer, needing to focus on something. “Oh yeah. She wants me to get a front row seat.”
“This shit is messed up,” he grouches. “I don’t even know any of you and it’s making me uncomfortable.”
I laugh. “You should come for Christmas or birthdays. Those are a treat.”
“And I thought my family were nuts.”
“Your family is definitely on the crazy scale. Your dad has offered my nan a house close to them.”
He shrugs like it’s nothing. “He rents houses out,” he explains.