Some Scars Never Heal - Part 20
Though I hadn’t slept much through the night, I awoke the next morning with a surprising amount of energy. The adrenaline that pumped through my system as I showered and did my make-up kept me from feeling tired, as I knew I should be. I was almost thankful for the train wreck that my mother’s wedding was sure to be, just because it was a distraction from the aching pain that ripped through me every time I recalled my conversation with Orlando. Who knew such a disaster could be a good thing?
I was just dumping the last of my coffee down the drain and making sure I had everything I needed in my new purse, when Olivia strode into my flat as though she owned it.
“Did I forget to lock that?” I muttered as I set my coffee cup in the sink and went into the living room.
Olivia was checking her make-up in the compact mirror I’m assuming came out of her purse. She was dressed very formally, in a dark green dress with spaghetti straps and a tight waist, that hung to just above her knees. The skirt flared out a bit, making her tiny waist even tinier. I suddenly felt like a cow.
“Are you almost ready?” she asked as she snapped the compact shut and put it back in her little green purse. “We don’t want to be late.”
“We?” I asked, shutting my own bag and slinging it, somewhat ungracefully, I’ll admit, over my shoulder. “When did this become a ‘we’ occasion?”
“When I realized that there was no way your new-found confidence could handle such mangling all by itself,” she said simply, shrugging her slender shoulders. “And since I know you don’t have a date, I figured I’d come along and make sure you didn’t throttle the bitch or something.”
I didn’t say anything for a few seconds as I processed what she’d just said. She wanted to be my ally at this awful event. It felt strange to have someone actually give a damn about me, and I had to shake myself to stop from hiding in my bedroom.
“Thanks,” I mumbled instead, turning away from her to grab my wrap.
“Any time,” she said, and I felt her hand on my shoulder. She sobered for a moment. “Seriously, Peyton, we’ll get you through this. And you’ll see, it won’t be as bad as you think.”
“I hope you’re right,” I sighed and headed for the door.
Of course when the black cab pulled up in front of the address my mother had given me, it was a big, ostentatious place. Garret’s estate was huge, as I knew it would be, with a large wrought iron gate that opened onto a circular driveway, lined with little green trees. The house itself was massive, with three stories of perfectly shuttered windows gazing down for all to see, and elegant marble pillars framing the large double doors in the front. There were big black cars everywhere, with pretentiously dressed people being escorted out of them and into the house.
I took a deep breath and looked at Olivia.
“Relax,” she said when she saw the blatant terror on my face. I wanted to wrap my shawl around my neck like a scarf and head for the hills. I suddenly felt very naked in my pretty dress, and craved the security of a lumpy, formless sweater that hid everything I didn’t want seen.
“This is going to suck,” I sighed as a white gloved hand reached inside the car for my own. The man in the black tuxedo stooped to peer inside.
“This way, ladies,” he said in a very heavy accent. At Olivia’s urging, I accepted his hand and allowed him to help me from the car. As I looked around, I noticed we were the only ones who hadn’t arrived in some ultra-expensive, pompous car. I groaned inwardly.
The man in the tuxedo offered Olivia and me each an arm and guided us toward the stairs at the front of the house, where everyone else seemed to be going. I pulled my hair over my shoulders and around my face to hide my scars as we headed into the throng of people. I suddenly wished this man were not between us, so I could see Olivia’s face and know what she was thinking. It was bad enough that I had to concentrate to firmly put one foot in front of the other so I wouldn’t turn around and run screaming the other way. I instinctively tucked in on myself, trying to shrink into the background.
When we’d been led inside the entry way that was twice the size of my flat, and through what our escort had called the Great Room, which was roughly the size of a small shopping mall, we were taken through large French doors and down some beautiful marble stairs to the backyard. An enormous white tent was set up about 10 yards away, with rows of white chairs and a long white carpet stretching down the centre. The carpet was so long, I could barely see what was at the other end.
“We’ll be starting shortly,” our escort said, releasing our arms. “There are servers and tables of food and drinks. Please help yourselves.”
“Fancy,” Olivia commented, snagging two glasses of sparkling orange juice from a passing waiter. It wasn’t quite eleven in the morning, so I figured there’d be no alcohol yet, as much as I was now wishing there were.
“‘Liv, this is a bad idea,” I whispered as I noticed a small group of women about my mother’s age, all dressed in ridiculous hats and horrid dresses, staring at me and making pointed conversation. I felt my face heat up and I had to turn away.
“You’ll be fine,” she said, fishing in her purse for a cigarette. “Just remember, at the end of the day, you never have to see these people again. Who cares what a bunch of stuck-up gold diggers think anyway?”
I tried to see her point, I really did, but the very idea that those stuck-up gold diggers were gossiping about me, probably using words like ‘hippo’ and ‘whale,’ made my stomach turn. My cheeks became even warmer. I was suddenly very glad we were outside.
“You look beautiful, Peyton,” Olivia said, all of her attention on my face now. She sounded so sincere, I had to look at her. “I know you don’t believe it, but you do. And not one of these assholes can take that from you.”
I actually smiled at her, grateful that she was there with me. I knew that if I’d been by myself, I would have been gone by now. It felt nice to actually have a friend again.
We chatted quietly for a while longer, mostly about my new book, until another tuxedo-clad man came over to us, a little white card in his hand.
“Are either of you Peyton Grant?” he asked, eyeing me. I saw his gaze rest on the left side of my face and move slightly downward to my neck and the little bit of my shoulder that was showing. Without waiting for an answer, he thrust the card at me, turned on his heel, and walked away.
“Certainly aren’t paying them for their people skills, are they?” Olivia muttered as I read the card.
“Peyton,” it read, in my mother’s dainty scrawl, “Come to my dressing room, second floor, fourth door on your right. Elaine.“
“She never could bring herself to sign ‘Mom’ like a normal person,” I said, dropping the card on the tray of a passing waiter. “Will you be okay here if I go and see her? I’ll never hear the end of it if I don’t.”
“Sure,” Olivia said, smiling. “I see some people I know anyway.”
I tried to smile at her, but it came out as more of a grimace as I made my way into the house. I found her room easily enough, and knocked on the door.
“Enter,” Mom called. Why couldn’t she ever be normal and say, ‘come in?’
“It’s me,” I said as I poked my head around the door. I fought the urge to puke right there.
The room was decorated entirely in peach, from the carpet to the frilly little things over the windows. The air was heavy with too much rose-scented perfume, and there were three women gathered around my mother, cackling like MacBeth’s prophesizing witches. They were dressed in matching peach dresses, with too many frills and not enough material where it counted.
“Peyton!” Mom exclaimed, as though I were some long lost relative who’d just left her a million dollars. She was already in her gown, white lace from head to tow, with a huge train laid neatly around the room from behind her chair. Her hair was curled, her nails were painted peach, and she had on way too much make-up, but she looked absolutely delighted by all of it. I bit my tongue.
“This is Peyton?” one of the peach-clad witches spoke up, a look of distaste immediately on her face. I could feel her eyes scrutinizing every inch of me, and I tried not to flinch.
Mom ignored her, studying her own reflection in the mirror in front of her. “Did you see all of the people here?” she gushed, her voice about an octave higher than normal. I wondered if there were helium balloons hidden somewhere in the room.
“Yeah, it’s quite the zoo,” I muttered, standing awkwardly in the doorway, toying with the edge of my shawl. “Are you almost ready to go?” I wanted to get this nightmare over as quickly as possible.
“Almost,” she replied, giggling. “Just a few finishing touches. To be honest, dear, I didn’t think you’d come.” She turned to look at me. “But you managed to get yourself out of your little flat, find something to wear that wasn’t a horrid shapeless piece of material, and actually comb your hair, all so you could be a part of my big day.” She looked back at the mirror and giggled. “Of course, it’s not surprising, though, is it, given how much food will be served today.” The witches around her howled with laughter.
I felt my whole body burn with embarrassment, and I wanted to sink into the floor. But more than that, I was pissed off that she could say such horrible things in front of other people, people I didn’t even know. In her twisted perspective, the first part of what she’d said may have been a compliment, but she knew that adding on her last little jab was anything but nice. I could see the smug satisfaction on her face as she touched up her lipstick, her eyes darting to me every few seconds to gage my reaction. I squared my shoulders and resolved not to give her what she wanted.
“Of course I’m here,” I said, loading my voice with the sickeningly false sweetness she used all the time. “It’s not every day someone of your advanced age finds someone who wants to love them. I mean, for awhile there, I was afraid you’d end up an old spinster, the kind who gives out toothbrushes on Halloween, and has 15 cats, but Garret certainly saved you from that fate, didn’t he?” I paused, staring at her thoughtfully. “I just wonder how long it will be before he trades you in for a younger model. Guys like him are always trading up, you know. Cars, houses, wives, it’s all the same to them.” I gave a shrill laugh and shrugged. “But at least you’ll have all of his wonderful money to keep you warm at night. Won’t that be fun?”
Before she could say anything, and I could tell she was loading a mouthful to spew at me, I turned on my heel and walked out of the room, my head held high. Let her do with that what she would. I felt better, that’s all I cared.
I made my way back downstairs, into the Great Room, keeping my eyes peeled for Olivia, in case she’d decided to come inside. There were people everywhere, mingling in small groups, and I saw quite a few very recognizable faces. It was like the pages of my People Magazine had come to life in this very room. It made me wonder just who Garret was, and how he knew all of these people, because I knew my mother certainly didn’t have connections like this.
I was just debating on whether or not I wanted to stay inside and listen to the conversations around me, when I saw him, standing in a small group of people on the far side of the room.
Orlando.
In the same room as me.
Wearing a gorgeous black suit.
Oh my God.
I instantly began pulling my hair around my face and shoulders again, trying to hide myself, while at the same time tugging on my dress to make it flow away from my fat rolls more. I couldn’t breathe. I had to get out of that room, to get away from him, to avoid any chance at all of him seeing me.
Luckily the men in the black tuxedos started ushering everyone outside, to their seats. The ceremony was about to start. I put my head down and bolted for the door.
When I found Olivia, she was already seated, near the back. The empty seat next to her was up against the wall of the tent, and I was very grateful that she’d chosen such an out-of-the-way seat for me. I sat down quickly, not bothering to explain my panicked entrance, and slouched down in my seat, peeking through my hair to see if Orlando had been seated yet.
“What’s up with you?” she asked, stubbing out the last bit of her cigarette on the grass, only to get a disapproving look from an old woman wearing thousands of dollars worth of diamonds who was sitting in front of us.
“I just had words with my mother,” I said quickly, hoping that would explain my agitation. I didn’t want to get into the whole Orlando saga with her now, especially when he was being seated mere feet from us. I slouched down further.
“She won’t be able to see you over here,” Olivia assured me, patting my knee as she glanced around. She gave me an odd look, but didn’t say any more about it.
I continued to watch Orlando as he sat down and began speaking with the brunette woman sitting next to him. She had been with him inside the house, too, and it appeared he was her escort. How the hell did either of them know Garret? I knew this wasn’t Lauren, because she was clearly older than Orlando and not blonde. Plus, she looked like she knew what food tasted like. No, this had to be someone else. Too young to be his mother. She didn’t look like the pictures of his sister I’d seen in the magazines. Maybe someone who worked for him? Or a family friend? The way he laughed and joked with her, it was clear he knew her well and had for some time, but it didn’t look like they were involved. I found myself silently hoping they weren’t, then scolding myself for such a ridiculous thought.
I couldn’t dwell on it much further, thankfully, because some horrid hip hop song that had nothing to do with anything relevant to the occasion began to blast through the tent, and everyone started to pay attention to the carpeted aisle down the centre. Garret and the minister strolled casually forward, Garret smiling and nodding at people as he went, and the minister looking vaguely uncomfortable at some of the lyrics that were being rapped in the song. I rolled my eyes, and Olivia and I exchanged a look.
Garret, to his credit, did look pretty nice in his tux, though, and it screamed my mother. It was basic black, but the cummerbund peeking out from under his jacket and the bow tie around his neck had flecks of peach in them. Thank God they weren’t fully peach, or I would have puked right there. He was a good looking guy, I had to admit, but really, the idea that he wanted to be with my mother made him ugly as sin.
Next came the witches and the groomsmen. They strutted down the aisle as though they were the ones everyone came to see, and I swear, if I never see another flash of old lady cleavage again, it will be too soon. I mean, at their age, what the hell were they doing wearing low-cut v-neck halter dresses? Again, it screamed my mother.
Then the music changed into some classical piece I didn’t recognize, and everyone stood up. I almost didn’t, but Olivia nudged me, and I realized I’d be drawing attention to myself if I stayed seated. My height was a curse that day, especially with the slight heel I was wearing, because I pretty much towered over everyone near me. I tried to duck down, but that only made me look stupid, so I stood straight and tried not to look over to where Orlando was standing, watching down the aisle as my mother started forward.
Of course I failed. Mom decided to take her sweet ass time, so I had a minute or two to really study Orlando’s profile, and I took advantage of it, as much as I didn’t want to. His hair was somewhat tamed, compared to what I was used to seeing the paparazzi pictures, and the black suit he was wearing fit him perfectly, hanging just the right way, so it showed just how slender and well-built he was. He looked happy and relaxed as he whispered with the woman beside him, his grin seemingly stuck in place, always reaching his eyes. He was enough to make my legs shake under me.
And then I saw my mother out of the corner of my eye, walking down the aisle alone, her parents having passed away years before. She was in her glory to be the absolute centre of attention, walking slowly so she could stretch the moment. Her dress wasn’t as bad as I’d originally thought, but there was still too much lace, and I didn’t need to see that much of her chest. The train was carried by the same men who’d been escorting people out to the tent earlier, and they didn’t really look impressed. I stifled a giggle as one of them stifled a yawn.
The ceremony was surprisingly brief once my mother made it to the front where Garret was waiting. He kept smiling down at her, and the look on his face as she came up the aisle revealed just how happy he was with this whole ordeal. He looked like someone had stuck fish hooks in the corners of his mouth. Frankly, it was revolting.
I was beyond relieved when, after a kiss that lasted much too long and had a bit too much tongue, Garret and my mother walked, hand-in-hand, back down the aisle and out of the tent. It meant we could escape to a quieter place, preferably a place where Orlando wouldn’t see me. I grabbed Olivia’s arm and practically sprinted out of the tent.
June 1st, 2008 at 8:17 am
YEY!!Great to have you back! Great chapter, I could almost imagine the room. I think if I ever went to a wedding and found Orlando amongst the guests, I would faint!
WORTH THE WAIT, AS ALWAYS BETHANY. xx
June 1st, 2008 at 7:24 pm
Hi!!! That was great! I was hoping their might be an update when I got home, hehe… Well worth the wait Bethany. Can’t wait to read the next chapter, and hope to catch up with you soon!
L xx
June 1st, 2008 at 11:29 pm
I had this inner feeling that Orlando would be there. Poor Peyton. I would love to throttle her mother.
So glad to see you back. This is definately worth the wait. Great job.
July 16th, 2008 at 12:05 am
Gosh, I’m so sorry! I finally could sit and read the story back

I really like the way she confronted her mother, couldn’t find another good words to tell her xD Oh, poor her, besides the whole wedding, Orlando shows up…well, that’s not such a bad thing
I’ll move on to next chapter