Kristi’s third shower was thrown by her fiancé’s groomsmen. It was a couples’ shower to stock the bar, and everyone was supposed to bring a bottle of liquor and glasses. “What kind of groomsmen throw a shower?” Lauren asked. “Are they gay? I’ve never heard of such a thing. And you know what? I’m not going. I’m not in a couple, and I need the liquor more than she does.” Lauren ended up going to the party and drinking almost the whole bottle of liquor she’d brought. “I need it more,” she kept saying.
The fourth shower was thrown by Kristi’s friends from work, and she insisted that they al go. “I need my bridesmaids there,” she said. “Why?”
Lauren asked. “To wipe her ass?” The fifth shower happened because Kristi kept saying, “No one can believe that my bridesmaids haven’t thrown me a shower.” They had a brunch at Mary’s apartment to shut her up. “Is it just bagels?” she asked when she saw the food. When she opened up the present they got her, she said, “Who is this from? Oh, al of you. Is there another part? No, just this? Okay.”
Now they were on their way to Long Island for Kristi’s sixth shower and their patience was wearing thin. “My mother’s bridge group wants to throw me a shower,” Kristi said when she told them about this shower. “I just couldn’t say no!”
The thing was, Kristi wasn’t their first friend to get married. They had stood up in weddings of friends from home, friends from col ege, friends from work. Every time they were sure that they were done, someone else got engaged. And al that meant was that they would continue to spend their weekends at wedding showers.
They were good bridesmaids at the showers. They trekked out to Long Island and the suburbs of New Jersey wearing pastel dresses and carrying presents. They cheered for stainless-steel pots and flowered serving trays. They gathered ribbons and crafted large bouquets out of paper plates, while taking notes on who gave the bride the toaster and who gave her The Cupcake Cookbook. They gasped in mock horror when ribbons were broken—“That’s six babies now,” they’d warn with smiles and raised eyebrows. When margarita glasses were unwrapped, one of them always said, “We’l be over to put those to good use,” and the older women at the shower would laugh. They organized games to play, wound up timers, and put together quizzes titled “How Wel Do You Know the Bride?”
As the weddings increased, it was harder to be pleasant. After they’d attended five showers, the novelty wore off. By the time it got to fifteen, they were tired of cleaning up wrapping paper. And when they had attended over twenty showers, they were flat-out exhausted. Who on earth needed an ice-cream maker? Why did anyone want a deep fryer? And where were the happy couples (who lived in tiny Manhattan apartments) going to store twenty-four wine glasses and a bread maker?
The train pul ed into the station, and they al got up and left in silence. They stood in the sun for a moment. “It’s real y nice out today,” Mary said.
Lauren ran to a garbage can on the platform and threw up. “Yes,” Isabel a said. “It’s beautiful out.”
As Kristi unwrapped mixers and place mats, Lauren and Isabel a snuck out to the patio to have a cigarette. “I bet she gets pregnant right away,”
Lauren said. She was sipping her third mimosa, and was in much better shape already.
“Why?” Isabel a asked.
“Because then she’l have a reason for everyone to give her more presents. We’l have to throw her a baby shower too, and talk about her being pregnant, and then we’l have to babysit the little fucker.”
“That’s lovely,” Isabel a said. She peeked through the sliding glass doors to see if anyone missed them. Mary had been grabbed and chosen to write down al of the gifts, and she was looking around the room for them. She seemed pissed and Isabel a felt bad, but better her than them. Their friend Abby was constructing a bouquet out of the ribbons Kristi threw at her as she tore into the packages. Abby worked with her head down, like a child in a sweatshop. Kristi had debated whether or not to even make Abby a bridesmaid in the first place. “I mean, I know she’d be honored,” Kristi said. “But maybe it would be too much, since she just cal ed off her own wedding not long ago. I don’t want her to be a downer.” Abby had shown up at every shower and party, and been a good sport. And now, here she was threading ribbons through a paper plate. She glanced up and saw Isabel a through the glass door. Her eyes looked wounded, like she believed that Kristi was getting married just to punish her. Abby gave Isabel a a smal smile and kept her fingers moving, twisting and tying to make that stupid ribbon hat. Isabel a tried to smile back and then had to turn away.
“This is getting ridiculous,” Lauren said. She was cranky. “This is my fifth wedding this year. And I’m done with it. What I don’t get is why there have to be so many showers just for one person. And why do they have to have themes? Why? Just to make it more annoying than it already is?”
Isabel a shushed her and then glanced inside to make sure no one had heard. The theme for this shower was “My Favorite Things.” They had al received invitations that read: “Girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes, snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes! Please come and celebrate with our bride-to-be, Kristi Kearney. Bring her one of your favorite things!”
“I should have brought her cigarettes,” Lauren said thoughtful y. She took one more drag and then stamped her cigarette out on the ground. “They are one of my favorite things. Thank God I have them today. Kristi’s being a nightmare, huh?”
Isabel a didn’t have anything to say. Kristi wasn’t a bad person, she didn’t think. But she was acting like one. “Maybe she’s just stressed,” Isabel a said. They had been talking about Kristi for months now. If the wedding didn’t come soon, they were going to have to stop being friends with her.
On the eve of Kristi’s engagement party, Todd’s great-aunt died. There was talk of rescheduling, and Kristi came to see them, crying. “I’ve just real y been looking forward to this,” she said. “How could they do this to me?”
“But someone died,” Lauren said.
“I just think we stil could have it. I mean, it’s a party for me,” Kristi said. She put her head in her hands and they al looked at each other. Then they al kept drinking.
The party ended up happening. And later, Kristi would say that it was a shame that the aunt’s death had put such a damper on it. “I just felt like I couldn’t real y be as happy as I wanted to be, you know? Like I had to dial it back to be appropriate. It was real y unfair.”
“Do you think she needs to be on medication?” Mary asked later. No one laughed.
They kept waiting for it to stop, waiting for Kristi to realize that she was acting like a beast. But she never did. At her bachelorette party, she cried when one of their friends announced that she was pregnant. “I just real y wanted this night to be about me,” she wailed.
When Lauren hired a woman to come to the party and sel sex toys, Kristi turned to her and said, “This seems like something you would want more than I would. I mean, I have Todd now and we’re getting married, so I don’t real y need a vibrator. But it’s fun for the single girls, I guess.”
“Last night I added up al the money I spent on weddings this year,” Lauren said in a dreamy voice. “It was over five thousand dol ars. I could have gone on a trip to Belize and then bought a new wardrobe.”
“I realized yesterday that my credit card bil is never going to be paid in ful . Never,” Isabel a said.