Just another hectic day at work.
She got up and flicked the lights on just as the sun finally disappeared beneath the horizon. She then slipped into the shower- thoughts running through her head as she scrubbed herself vigorously. *Pick up groceries...Meet Ryan at the coffeshoppe... Finish off the slide-show presentation reports on consumer statistics for tomorrow... Leave for Taya's for dinner...*
She turned the shower taps off and wrapped a towel around herself. She started her daily scrutiny in the mirror. *Hmm... eyebrows need plucking again...*. She rubbed her hair slowly; thoughtfully. Her dead-straight, silky blonde hair cascaded down past her shoulders, dripping with water and reeking of herbal shampoo. She combed through her hair with her fingers and massaged her scalp. Then she took up her daily self-talk ritual, looking into her grey eyes intensely.
''Agnes Thompson. Co-executive head of Telecommunications Department West Branch, Draubman Enterprises, Boston. 23 years old- married- twice divorced, hideous hermit living alone. Now that wasn't hard, was it?''
She sighed and proceeded on to dress herself. She then grabbed her coat and sneakers and jogged out down to the grocery store on 34th street. Grabbing a trolley, she hastily sped through the mart, not wanting to bump into anyone intent on having a little chat. No such luck. Mr. and Mrs. Hinkerly -a mid-twenties couple, supposedly living happily on 32nd street-cornered her.
''Ann! What a delightful surprise!''
Mrs. Hinkerly clutched Agnes' shoulders and flashed her gleaming pirahna teeth at her. She fluttered a hand towards her husband vaguely.
''You remember Julian, don't you? Julian... Julian honey, pay attention!''
Mrs. Hinkerly smacked Mr. Hinkerly's arm. Agnes smiled at him awkwardly.
''Yes, I do remember him... I'm awfully sorry Youande, I can't talk much... I'm a bit busy you know... have to get these done and go meet Ryan at the cafe...''
Mrs. Hinkerly didn't look like she cared that Agnes was busy.
''Oooh then, how IS Ryan... It's so sweet, the way you two keep in touch. Most siblings I know drift away during the years. But then again, they usually get married and settle down''
Agnes bit the insides of her cheeks- something she usually did when pissed off. She clenched her trolley harder, making her knuckles go white.
''Me and Ryan happen to be close''
''Goodness knows, I never bothered keeping in touch with my own kin... Haven't seen Martha- that's my older sister- and her husband for years''
*Good thing too* thought Agnes. *Couldn't stand more of HER kind*
She gently nudged aside Mrs. Hinkerly's trolley- which had been well placed to block Agnes' escape route- aside and pushed her trolley on a bit. Mrs. Hinkerly looked disappointed.
''Not staying then? Well, send Ryan my regards, won't you? It's a pity you have to leave so soon; I just had this important thing to tell you.. well... it'll just have to wait then''
Mrs. Hinkerly looked over at sadly. He was in the dry fruits section, talking with a bunch of young African-American girls who tittered everytime he said something. He seemed to be enjoying himself.
Mrs. Hinkerly nodded in his direction.
''It's about him you know... that thing I had to tell you''
Agnes looked at the woman pitifully. Now the gracious thing to do would be to listen to her problems and reassure her- but she didn't want to! Infact, she didn't even know how she got to become this close to the woman. She hardly knew her! So, setting her mind free of all guilt, she gave Mrs. Hinkerly a tight hug.
''Well, tell me later, alright? Call me, you can always talk to me if you have any problems you know...''
With that, she pushed her trolley away from Mrs. Hinkerly and her new-found anxieties.
*Good Lord, I'm going to be late for Ryan*
She decided that the groceries could wait, and pushed the trolley aside while sprinting out the exit. She hurriedly ran down the side walk littered with pedestrians who all seemed to want to have a little quality time with her. Ugh. She ran even faster, hoping they'd get the impression that she was far too busy for small talk. People had become so much more interested in her after her second divorce. She couldn't blame them; getting divorced from the same guy twice had to spark some interest. She finally reached the decided café and slid into the seat opposite a fairly good-looking young man. A few women around her shot envious looks, but she soothed them a bit by greeting him with a 'Hey, how's my lil brother today?'.
Ryan looked up at Agnes, slightly pissed, but content none the less. Seeing his sister usually brightened up his day, as he knew that he had at least some one who cared for him; who'd be there for him when he broke up with his girlfriend, such as now.
''Gwen dumped me'' he mumbled, dunking a doughnut in his coffee. He sullenly bit off the limp part of the doughnut and brought his face up to regard her. She didn't look like she cared. She was rearranging her hair which looked slightly windblown. She patted his cheek with one hand sympathetically.
''Awww.. it's OK. Time will heal all. And maybe if you stopped dating young girls for Playboy looks, things will get better''
''Gwen was a simple sort of girl!''
Agnes snorted.
''With THAT cleavage?''
''She is god-gifted; natural, isn't it?''
''Did you ever talk to her about anything interesting?''
''Possibly.. we didn't talk much''
''Did you ever talk to her without goggling at her chest?''
''No''
''Case closed''
Ryan pulled out a pack of cigarettes, much to Agnes' displeasure. She wouldn't tolerate his usual cloud of smoke.
Gwen, as Agnes recalled; was barely 17, pale, skinny with an exaggerated chest, had chestnut brown hair and pale blue eyes. Pretty, to be sure, but with the IQ of a sheep in a herd. It didn't get dafter than her. The first thing Agnes didn't like was the fact that she was nearly 8 years younger than him, him turning 25 this October. She had just graduated from SCHOOL, and Ryan was already working in big firm. From what she had heard, he'd picked her up at a nightclub, where she'd gotten in with fake ID. They spent the night and two weeks together, after which she'd admitted her age to him. Ryan, then was so smitten with her attraction, that he replied that he didn't care how old she was. And now she dumped him for this other guy way older than him. *Older, more mature prey* thought Agnes dryly, pulling the cigarette he'd drawn out away from him. His eyes flashed. *Uh Oh*. Ryan could get nasty when denied his cigarettes.
''Prob with the smoke Lady 'Twice Divorced'?''
''Big prob, Mr.'Playboy Girls Only'... and at least I GOT married''
''Twice''
''So?''
''God knows why I bothered coming to the second one''
''Because you didn't come to the first one''
Ryan shut up at that one. It was due to unfortunate circumstances of him particularly having it in for the groom that he didn't manage to attend the first wedding. But he'd matured up a bit by the time of the second one; much to Agnes' relief.
Evan wasn't a bad sort of man. He was young, hotheaded and impatient, unmistakeably, but he wasn't a bad man. He and Agnes were alike in many ways: neither accepted the daftness and slight confusion of others when it came to intense subjects that one got into indepth. He and Agnes were two of a kind. Both very philosiphical, neither believing in fate, nor religion. Agnes, however, was a person more comitted to work, family and personal ambitions. Evan was more of a 'give it all you've got' type of person. Unfortunate, since Agnes just didn't seem to have enough time for him.
The first marriage was happy enough; both were young people, teenagers of 18, impressionable, and both in defiance and rebellion of their parents. They at first truly believed that this was love and that they desperately needed to seal the pact, incase of any questions of their relationship.
Then, after few months, strain and unstability overcame them. They needed time apart, but this seemed impossible to gain, since both were in such a tangled position, that one depended on the other for everything. They had hardly any money, and hardly any happiness in their lives. Then one wondered, what if we seperated, claiming to have been under an irrational influence? What if we went back to our respective parents, begging for mercy and grace? We'd go back to our old lives, where laughter reigned and money was no question. Both then unspokenly decided that this was what needed to be done. Then they parted ways; shed a few tears of departure and took leave of one another. Both sets of parents uniformly took their littlekin that had gone astray with much relief and safely tucked them under their wings with few questions. The marriage had lasted half a year.
And then, a happier life began for Agnes. She laughed again; no more were those days of eyes circled with darkness. Yet a part of her pined for her supposed love. Evan, for his own part, pined in solitude, having being sent away to university far off. Both minds wandered again... through forests of possibilities. If they'd survived a bit longer... would life have turned for the better? They would never know. Agnes then continued on with life; staying clear away from men for no rhyme or reason. She grew to be successful in her chosen profession, and time eventually washed away the memories of her time with Evan. Ofcourse, Ryan and her now 22 year old sister, Brooklyn helped her overcome her uneasiness of doing things for herself without depending on him.
And perhaps I shall tell you what happened to their second joining a while later.
Coming back, Ryan sat fuming at Agnes.
''So, why'd you call?''
''Brook's wedding... you know what happened, don't you?''
Agnes looked stricken.
''Oh dear! Poor Brooklyn!What happened? Did the groom walk out on her?''
''No, no! Nothing like that; relax. It's just that... his parents have sort of... disowned him''
''Good Lord! You mean they just cut off all ties with him?''
''Not a penny left to his name''
''But they seemed quite aimiable. I rather like his father, quite rosy and pleasant-tempered. They never really had it in for us... so what happened?''
''They got the impression that Brooklyn was trying to marry in to the family for the big bucks''
''NEVER!''
Ryan nodded.
''And I hear they're very protective of the family fortune''
''So I can see... but to break off with their son just for this... He's their only child, isn't he?''
''No. As I recall, he had a sister.. horribly ugly... sorry.. sorry, no offense on part of sisters. She's quite old by now I think... 36 or so, still unmarried. And he had a brother, also older than him... 27, due to get married in winter I think''
''And they're not suspicious of HIS fiancée?''
Ryan gave an unconclusive shrug; the type he'd perfected after years of blind ignorance; and pulled out another packets of cigs from his back pocket.
''Well, I hear that the older brother's more of a favourite... in addition to that, he's the main heir to the fortune. Oh, and for safety precautions, measures were taken to ensure that the money stays in the family. He's marrying his COUSIN''
Agnes was revolted.
''SICK! That's just incest!''
Ryan took a 'drag on the fag' and looked at her nonchalantly, wispy smoke curling around his mouth enticingly. He gave a flick of the hand to the waitress who had been regarding him approvingly for quite some time now. She came scurrying forward. Her voice was sweet and sugar-coated.
''May I take your order please?''
Ryan nodded at me.
''Go on then; it's on me''
I scanned the menu. Hideous pastries and typical French café delicacies lined the menu. I decided to stay on the safe side.
''Umm... one black coffee, strong if you please, and one piece of that black cream cake you have there, on display''
She nodded at me affirmatively. *Why?* I wondered. *Is everything the customer orders instantaneously a 'good choice'?*
Ryan then proceeded to order a 'Créme en Afrique' with a herbal tea. The essential herbologist, that's my brother. He, FYI, was the one who supplied my Herbal shampoos at the time.
Well... this is basically a day in my life before the wedding, from a third person's point of view.
Skipping on a couple of days, since I really do want to get to Brooklyn's wedding; here we are at the day of the wedding rehersal.
Brooklyn looked stunning. That was the only word that could truly describe her. I hadn't seen her a while, and I wondered how my little duckling of a sister managed to get a groom so... so... *hunky*. Well, she'd changed. Her usually frigid, pale visage now had a healthy Mediterranean glow and her lively green eyes pratically sparkled every time she laughed. There was only one person to thank for this sparkle, and that was her groom. Little did he know how much we owed him for this wondrous glimmer of happiness. She'd managed to maintain a remarkable figure, I noted approvingly. And to her benifit, she'd grown a couple of inches taller. She now towered well above me, and possibly topped Ryan. Her hair was no longer dyed an odd shade of pink, it was now back to her natural dirty blond tinged with a slight leftover pink. Strawberry blonde, they call it.
There she stood, on the pedestal, fitting on her wedding dress to show me. Tears shone in my eyes. I only hoped that I looked half as radiant at my two weddings. She looked at me hopefully, eager for my remarks. What could I say? The dress was eternally made for her. White and pink lace intertwined, making many intricacies within the pattern of the dress material itself. The sleeves tipped slightly off her shoulders and they hung down broadly, ending at her elbows. Her hands were masked with gloves made of some sort of translucent lace, the same material of which, covered most of her nape. The main design of the body of the dress was simple enough; clinging tight to the chest and then loosening to flow down in gentle folds. On her curly hair sat a makeshift crown of tinsel. The store assistant had been taking measurements for the veil, and was nearly done making final adjustments to it.
Having finished, she carefully handed the delicate piece to me, and I helped Brooklyn affix it to her head. She threw the veil over her face so that her eyes twinkled at me from below a papering of gauze.
''So, do you really like it?''
I gave a muffled sort of sob-sniff and nodded my head, biting my quivering lip.
She laughed at me lightly. I was astonished- even her unmistakable horsey laugh had changed- for the better. It now sound soft and breathy and very light-hearted. She beckoned me near, and as I drew forward, she captured me in a tight hug.
''That pretty, huh?''
I hastily wiped the tears from my eyes and gave a hoarse laugh.
''Yeah''
Brooklyn withdrew slightly and admired herself in the mirror. She smiled broadly at me.
''Isn't this just amazing? And the wedding's so perfect!"
I fiddled with the hem of her dress a bit. Perfect? How could it be perfect?
"Huh?"
No escape: I'd absent mindedly voiced my thoughts aloud
"What do you mean 'how could it be perfect'?''
She stepped off the dais and grabbed my shoulders.
''Now what?''
I looked at her in discomfort.
''His parents disowned him Brook''
She looked at me- slightly miffed.
''You think money matters to me Ann? Are you starting to think that of me as well? Well, here's news for you, princess- I don't care!''
I opened my mouth to say something, but she cut me off hotly, changing the subject.
"I invited Evan"
My jaw fell down. I shrieked, and all the store attendants came rushing to see what kind of medical calamity had occured. Obviously, all they saw, was me ripping Brooklyn's hem and shrieking profane words at her while she desperately tried to save her dress.
"YOU BITCH! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!"
Brooklyn clutched her dress protectively while looking at me smugly. Why was she so happy about this?
''So you don't like him then?''
''Bloody NO, I DON'T LIKE HIM''
''Good, that's all. You won't have to see him''
I let go of the dress and she hastily scooped the frills up. I gave out an exasperated whoosh of air.
''What was the point of this then?''
She looked at me tentatively.
''Honey...''
I smacked her wrist.
''Don't you honey me; what is this about? And why were you inviting him?''
Brookln drew her hand in and massaged her wrist.
''Keith... Keith... Agnes, Keith is Evan's cousin''
There was a heavy pause. I couldn't believe my ears. I lowered my voice in disbelievement.
''What?''
"My fiancé is Evan's cousin"
I started grasping for her dress again. She'd smartly pulled it away this time. I released my heat.
''WHAT?!''
''Keith is...''
''I HEARD YOU THE FIRST TIME ROUND! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING MARRYING HIS COUSIN?''
She drew back defensively. Spittle was flying from my mouth. Pretty sight I was, I'm sure. All the store attendants stood around us, their eyes fixed on me. Obnoxious peoples. I cooled my voice and spoke calmly to the nearest attendant, who nervously backed up a bit.
''Yes? May I help you?''
She nodded timidly. The others gazed in awe at her courage.
''M-madam's dress.. Elle veut la changer? Ou l'acheter? Parce que la robe est un peut...''
She swiped a quick look at the dress. Half of it was torn and tattered. Oops.
''Elle est un peu dechirée, non?''
I looked at Brooklyn.
''Your call''
She grinned at me evilly.
''I didn't rip it up''
I bit the insides of my cheeks again and dug into my purse for my cheque book.
*******
The crisp night air whipped strands of hair across my face as I walked briskly down the cobbled lane. Damn these potholes... my VERY expensive Italian Designer Stilettos kept getting stuck in the cracks and holes in the aged road. My ankle kept bending into odd twists and it now threatened to give way to my weight. I gave up. Stopping to take them off, I heaved myself onto a debatabely unstable bench nearby. I sat there, perched cautiously on the edge, taking special care not to make it collapse under me- god knows, the dress costed enough, and I didn't need to waste more money on a fine for vandalism.
I thought back to the morning... Ooof... that DRESS. Did she purposely pick out the most expensive one from the store to stick me with? Anyway, the important thing was that I had to do something, and quick. Brooklyn hadn't trusted me and had re-invited Evan. She'd explained that she had tried to get my confession of rebuttal by provoking me... in simple words- she wanted to piss me off enough to admit to her that i didn't like Evan anymore. Apparently she was a bit disgusted at the idea of marrying her cousin-in-law...
Well. What more is there to say?
I don't want to see him again.
I hate that man.
I hate him.
I hate him.
I hate him.
I love him so much it hurts...
I looked up at the shops along the side walk. As much as I hated to admit to myself, I would die, just to see his face again. I sat there for a few more minutes- watching couples stroll arm-in-arm. Is that what I wanted? To be a couple again? I mulled over it for a bit. No. I shifted all my weight onto the bench. Screw public ministries. I looked at a woman strolling out of a beauty saloon.
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