III: The Email

THE EMAIL came this afternoon, but I didn't get to check it until the evening. It was one of those chat-formatted ones where more than two people had a conversation. 

The subject was one that had me rolling my eyes. Bridesmaids To-Do List.

Actually, no. The subject wasn't that bad. Not nearly as eye-rolling-worthy as the first message forwarded to all of us. 

From none other than Simone. 

Hello my beautiful Bridesmaids! I'd like to just say that without all of you i wouldn't have made it this far. Sane, anyway. Below is a list of things you each need to do, as well as important dates to pencil into your agendas! 
Love, 
The Bride

My God. She's twenty-five, not fifty. Who talks like that?

With a laugh, I scrolled down the ridiculous To-Do list and mentally checked off the ones I refused to do. 

One in particular stuck out to me. What the hell is a Thai Face Slapping appointment, I thought to myself as I reached for my cell. It rang twice before Simone picked up the phone in her annoying chirpy voice. "Hello, Eleanor!"

"Hey Simone. Um I was reading your email. And I just wanted to question your sanity in a few of these appointments. What  is a Thai Face Slapping?" I asked as I tried to keep the humor out of my voice. 

"Oh, that! It's prevents wrinkles!" she said like it's the most normal thing in the world. 

"Um, Simone. How in the hell did you find a place that does this?" I said, now full-on laughing. I could just envision my perfect sister sitting in a salon getting bitch-slapped by a little Asian lady. 

"Eleanor, don't mock me! I need a youthful appearance for my wedding."

"You're twenty-five!" I all but shouted as I rolled on the floor laughing. "It's not just for me, you know!" Simone shouted over my laughter trying to justify her insane-ass. 

"Wait, is mother going?" I asked suddenly serious. 

"Yes, it's mainly for the older women in the bridal party."

"Simone, listen to me. I'll pay you good money to video tape our mother getting slapped." Simone started laughing like you'd expect a princess to. But to me, I knew she was full on laughing like it was the funniest thing she's ever heard. "I'm serious! I'll even pay for the treatment."

"It's like 700 dollars for a half-hour session," Simone said in her mock-incredulous voice. Please, like I can't afford that. 

"That's fine. Just remember to get it on film!"

"Fine, I'll do it. Did you get your measurements?" Her words popped in my head Dante's devastated expression. I've tried calling him a million times for days but he refuses to talk to me. 

"Oh, yeah, I'll send them to you in a second." 

"Alright. Well sorry to have to leave you, but I have a hair appointment. Send me your measurements and after I get out of the salon, I'll drop them off at the boutique."

"Okay, bye Simone."  After I hung up, I set about the task of sending her my measurements. But what I didn't realize was that I accidentally sent the message to the other bridesmaids too. 

Oh, thank God you're not fat. I was envisioning you as that scary lady from the movie Bridesmaids. 

My eyebrows rose as I read the message. It was sent from F3licity<3

A reponse popped on the screen a second later. 

Don't take offense to that, I'm sure you're not scary. Or fat. You probably have a wonderful body type. Felicity's just really honest. I'm Alice btw.

I felt the need to thank her but I wasn't sure what to say. Finally, I settled on a simple, curt sentence. 

No worries, not offended. Thanks, Alice. I'm Elle. 

Lovely to meet you! When do you arrive in the States? -Alice

The 25th, but I get in late. I probably won't have the chance to see you all until the next day. -Elle

You're going to have a blast! The other bridesmaids are really nice, too. -Alice.

I'm sure they are. Anyway G2g. It's dinner time over here. -Elle

Sure thing! Ttyl. -Alice

Signing off, I got off the swivel chair and went into the kitchen. Instead of cooking because I suck at that and don't want to kill myself, I decided to just reheat some pasta from last night. 

I took my dinner to the living room where I flipped through my portfolio. I was supposed to send this to a gallery in Milan but I wasn't sure if it was perfect yet, or if I'd chosen the right pieces. Sipping a glass of red wine to go with the linguini, I thought about what I was going to do back in Jersey. 

What if, somehow, I ran into Max? Was I strong enough to smile and talk to him like normal? No, I don't think I was. 

But I didn't have to worry about that, right? I will never see him again.

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A/N: Btw, that Thai Slap treatment thing is real. I saw it on the internet and thought that I absolutely had to put it in this! :)