Janey

I can’t do this. I should’ve told Cole no. I should’ve laughed at how ridiculous the very idea of him playing my boyfriend is. But I wanted it to work and had myself believing it would right up until we walked into this room.

Now, sticking my head in the sand ostrich-style is sounding like a better plan. I want to run back to the cabin and hide. Skip the rehearsal dinner, skip the wedding, and go back to work next week like nothing happened.

But Cole is having none of Plan B: Janey the Ostrich Queen.

He marches straight up to my parents and interrupts whatever conversation they were having by extending his hand toward my dad. “Mr. Williams? I’m Cole, Janey’s boyfriend. Been looking forward to meeting you.”

Dad recoils in surprise, from the interruption and Cole’s very direct - and charming? – introduction.  “Oh, uh... nice to meet you, Cole. Call me Leo,” Dad answers as he shakes Cole’s hand.

Cole shakes Mom’s hand, charming her too. “Your daughter has told me so much about you two. I’ve been looking forward to this,” he repeats.

Mom and Dad smile wanly, not hearing the thinly veiled threat in his words, but I hear it loud and clear. I’ve spent enough time with Cole over the past week to be able to get that much of a read on him.

Warily, I plaster myself to Cole’s side like I could hold him back if he decided to defend my honor or something insane. “So, yeah… this is Cole. Yep, my boyfriend, Cole. That’s him.” He glances at me and lifts a brow, the tiniest hint of a smile on the left side of his mouth. I should add that to the count, but I’ve completely forgotten what number I’m on, so I just enjoy it. “Oh! And Cole, this is my mom, Eileen, and dad, Leo.”

Mom and Dad exchange a look. I know that look – it’s the same one they made when I excitedly told them I’d won the fourth-grade spelling bee. They want to believe me, but they don’t. Not really.

So I do what I do best and launch into a monologue. “Yeah, we’ve been looking forward to this. Cole’s been super busy at work, but I told him we couldn’t miss Paisley’s wedding, and here we are. Me and my boyfriend, Cole. Are they gonna get started soon? I’m starving. I don’t think I had lunch today. Did we have lunch today?” I ask Cole.

“You made charcuterie boards,” he reminds me, “and we ate cheese cubes, lunch meat, and crackers all day.”

“Oh yeah!” I say too brightly.

Dad leans over with a grin to tell Cole, “Probably a good thing she didn’t cook for you. She’s better at burning than baking, right honey?” Dad jokes, “Remember the bacon?”

The last time I cooked anything at home was when I was eighteen, and yeah, I might’ve set the smoke alarm off that time, but for all Dad knows, I’m a chef now. I’m not of course, but he doesn’t know that. He doesn’t care, in his mind the joke’s set in stone, forever and ever, amen.

“Really? She’s great in the kitchen now,” Cole says thoughtfully, “keeps me well-fed for sure.” He pats his flat stomach, drawing attention to how fit he is.

He’s seen me make sandwiches, soup, pizza rolls, and the chicken that was supposed to be for Henry, but if you heard him complimenting me, you’d think I serve up Michelin-rated dinners on the regular.

A little bit of bragging, but I’m happy for it.

“Well, I taught her everything she knows,” Mom adds. That’s true actually. Mom taught me how to make chicken that won’t poison anyone and ground beef with a sprinkle of packaged seasonings. Other than that, she shoo’d me out of the kitchen because I was in her way.

“How’s the garden?” I ask Dad, choosing a topic that I know will last.

His face lights up the way it always does when he talks about his babies, aka the flowers, bushes, and plants he cares for. Within seconds he’s off, telling us all about the new fiddle leaf fig he ‘rescued’ from the plant store, while Mom looks at him like he’s the most interesting man on the planet, though I’m sure she’s heard this story ten times already.

And I’m happily listening, glad the attention is off Cole and me, until a voice says, “Hey, Sideshow!”

It’s Jessica. She was allowed to watch The Simpsons from a young age, something I couldn’t do until I was a teen, and bestowed me with the clown nickname because of my wild, red curls. The name’s nothing new, but it’s annoying all the same. In the hopes of shutting it down for the eight-hundred thousand-fifty-eighth time, I ask, “Aren’t you tired of that yet?”

She laughs like that’s ridiculous. Like Dad, Jessica prefers her humor dipped in plaster and written in stone, to forever be humorous.

Cole does something I’ve never been able to do – shut Jessica up. He wraps one of my ringlets around his finger, tugging gently. “I love Janey’s hair. It’s different and beautiful, not boring, plain brown.” He sounds wistful about my hair, all the while, insulting Jessica’s brown tresses.

Ooh, he’s a slick one. Shutting down Dad about my cooking and Jessica with her annoying nickname.

I’m secretly thrilled and have to shift from one foot to the other to keep from doing a happy dance.

“Who’re you?” Jessica asks with narrowed eyes.

“Cole, Janey’s boyfriend,” he answers proudly, forcibly dragging his attention away from me to glance at her. He doesn’t bother asking who she is and I can see that it irks Jessica.

I’m going to hell for it, but I’m glad Cole’s here, playing the part of my boyfriend. Just seeing the looks on all their faces makes whatever eternal damnation I’ll suffer worth it.

“Oh, there’s Paisley,” Mom says in a hushed voice like we’re not all here to see her. And she’s off on the topic of the day. Not meeting my boyfriend for the first time, of course. That’s small potatoes.

The wedding, though? That’s important.

“I haven’t seen her dress yet, but you know it’s going to be gorgeous. Paisley wouldn’t have it any other way.” Mom nods, certain of that. “They went into town and tried on dozens of them before she picked one, but it’s been all hush-hush, top secret.”

She looks left and right like someone might overhear her gossiping. “I hope she picked a white one at least. Wedding dresses should be white… and lacy… and elegant.” She’s obviously given this a lot of thought. “You know, kids these days are getting married in pink dresses? And black ones? I saw it on a TV show and thought ‘that’s not a wedding dress’ but I guess if that’s what she wants...” She trails off, shrugging like it’s none of her business seconds after judging an entire industry. Mom’s a traditionalist to say the least.

“Well, Paisley’ll look beautiful, I’m sure,” Dad comments, on Mom’s side no matter what. She could say that the moon’s made of dried Oreo filling and he’d nod agreeably.

“They’re having the ceremony at that event center –“ Mom says as she starts rehashing everything she knows about the impending nuptials.

“I’m a junior bridesmaid. Can you believe that shit?” Jessica sneers when Mom pauses to take a breath.

“Jessica, please watch your language. Young ladies don’t speak like that,” Mom corrects her gently.

If I’d cussed when I was thirteen, especially in a fancy restaurant, I would’ve been grounded for life. Not that I would’ve dared to say that… well, not where Mom could hear. But Jessica? She curses loud, proud, and with no care, and is barely reprimanded. Somehow, that’s supposed to be one of those ‘mistakes’ they’re correcting with her.

Jessica rolls her eyes at the admonishment. “Whatever. It’s stupid that I’m not a regular bridesmaid. It’s not like I’m a child.”

“Beg to differ,” I mutter under my breath, thinking no one will hear me. Or listen.

But Mom does.

“Janey!” she hisses. “Be nice to your sister. Her feelings are a little hurt is all. She’s sensitive, you know.”

She’s sensitive. Jessica? The Menace is sensitive?

Meanwhile, Jessica’s grinning like the Cheshire Cat at having gotten away with her rudeness.

“Everyone, please sit down. Dinner is served,” Uncle Teddy announces formally. He’s wearing a button-up shirt and bolo tie, black slacks, and boat shoes. An odd combination of not-formal attire, but for him, it’s pretty razzle-dazzle. Uncle Teddy’s probably one of my favorite people in my family, mostly because he used to give us as many Otter Pops as we wanted and made sure I got my favorite purple ones every time. That was partially because Paisley wanted the red ones so she could pretend they were lipstick, but still, at least I got my favorite too.

What can I say, my standards for favorite are pretty low in my family. All it takes is a popsicle and you’re it.

Next to him stands Aunt Glenda. She’s wearing a gold gown that looks more wedding-y than dinner-esque, but she looks really pretty in it.

And then there’s Paisley and Max.

Paisley is wearing a white satin nightgown type dress with a draped neckline that shows her thin frame. Her hair is curled and pulled up around her face with rhinestone clips, and she looks deliriously happy. Her fiancé Max is wearing a black suit, white dress shirt, and a blue tie.

Max’s outfit is basically the same as Cole’s, but there’s a noticeable difference in fit and quality between the two.

Earlier today, Cole had come back with a black garment bag, confusing the hell out of me since I thought he was on a stakeout in the middle of the forest. But he’d explained that Mr. Webster was gone and he’d made the trip to get clothes for tonight’s dinner and tomorrow’s wedding. I’d told him the jacket wasn’t necessary, but he’d insisted, saying he’d have it in case I got cold.

That alone had warmed me enough for the entire evening.

Well, that and the fact that Cole looks good in a suit. His shoulders seem extra broad, his tie matches his eyes perfectly, and as comfortable as he seems in tactical stake-out gear, he seems surprisingly right at home in fancy clothes too.

We sit and dinner is actually… okay.

There are toasts, but everyone’s fixated on the bride and groom, and I can comfortably disappear into the group of guests, which is good because I can only focus on Cole. He’s completely at ease, smiling and laughing along with everyone at the right times, clapping politely, and eating with all three forks like he knows what he’s doing.

Meanwhile, I’m struggling to cut my overdone steak and trying to decide if I should pick up the potato wedges and eat them like fries or dice them up. I glance to Cole for guidance and he stabs a small piece with his fork and offers me a bite.

“These are really good. We’ll have to make them at home,” he murmurs. It’s between us, but the table is full of people so others can’t help but hear.

“What? Uh, yeah, we should,” I answer clumsily after swallowing the bit he fed me. It is a good potato, but what follows is the real spice that leaves me wanting more.

He places a chaste kiss on my lips, quick as a blink, like he’s comfortable doing that anytime he wants, and then goes back to listening to one of the groomsmen wax poetic about Max’s college days.

He’s playing the doting boyfriend so perfectly that if he’s not careful, I’m going to forget that he’s acting.

After dinner, everyone mingles around the room again, chatting about tomorrow’s ceremony.

I excuse myself to the restroom, but as I’m touching up my makeup, I freeze, caught in the lounge area by Paisley and another cousin, Nikki. They’re coming in the door and haven’t seen me yet, but Paisley’s laughing and says incredulously, “He’s real? I mean, she RSVP’d for two, but I totally thought this was one of those ‘he goes to another school’ type of things.”

Nikki laughs and agrees, “Me too!”

Paisley’s not done and suggests, “Maybe he’s a fake boyfriend? I’ve read about those in books. Or,” she giggles, “I could see her paying him.”

“Totally,” Nikki answers. “I mean, talk about an odd couple. Look at him and look at her,” she scoffs.

I drop my lip gloss to the counter with a clatter and Paisley gasps, about as fake as a three dollar bill. “Oh, Janey! We didn’t know you were in here.”

They knew. I can see it on their faces – the fake shock, the evil glint in their eyes, the triumphant smiles they can’t quite control. They intentionally walked in here, knowing I’d be alone and defenseless, to taunt and tease me.

And I let them.

Most days, I’d have something to say. I’m not the mousey little girl they remember from when we were kids. I’m stronger now, but I’m also too freshly hurt to find anything in my mind. For once, it’s completely silent and blank.

“Excuse me,” I say, trying to brush past them to escape.

But rather than getting out, Cole pushes his way in… to the women’s restroom. Well, it’s the lounge part, not where people are peeing, but still. He shouldn’t be in here.

His eyes are stony and cold, and the charming gentleman from all evening is gone, replaced with the hard man he can be. Is it strange that I’m glad to see this version of Cole? I think it’s closer to the real him, not the fake chuckle-chuckle guy he’s been for some of tonight’s conversations.

“This door is so thin that I could hear every word you two said and it’s fucking disgusting. You think we’re an odd couple? Not sure you’re one to judge since your husband has been eyeing every woman here all night – the waitress, the hostess, the blonde bridesmaid,” he sneers at Nikki.

“He has not,” she mutters, but there’s doubt in her eyes.

“And you? Ringleader of the Bitches? What proof do you want?” he demands of Paisley. “Want to know Janey’s favorite drink? Red Bull - strawberry apricot flavor. Toothbrush? Purple. Sleeps? Middle of the bed. Tattoo? Right here on her hip. It’s my good luck charm and every time I think of her, I like to grab ahold of it.” He echoes his words with action, firmly gripping my hip right over my flower tattoo as he yanks me to his side. “Position? Knees thrown over my shoulders as I worship her,” he finishes with a crude lick of his lips. “Want to see it right here or are you satisfied?”

My cousins are red faced and horrified. I’m about to attack him and demand what he just described, because it sounds amazing and like his kiss, like something I’ve never experienced. And I have no doubt Cole can deliver.

There’s a knock on the door. “Uhm, ladies?” Uncle Teddy asks from the other side. Judging by his tone, the door is thin enough that everyone’s heard this part of our conversation too.

“We have to go,” I ramble. “Right now. Right now,” I repeat as I grab Cole’s hand and drag him out of the restroom, through the room of people, who are definitely looking at me now, and out of the restaurant.

“Janey Susannah Williams,” Dad shouts, but I keep hustling without so much as a glance his way.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” I mutter over and over as Cole walks me to his truck. “What the hell just happened?”

“I shut your bitchy cousin up and made sure that, on the eve of her wedding, all she’ll be thinking about is you getting fucked like you should be. And like she never will be, judging by Max.”