Loose Truth

“It’s mid-February. She still has Christmas lights up?”

“Babe, don’t be judgey. She said she’s counting her birthday as part of the holiday season this year. Lyla spends all of her time out there rescuing animals and volunteering at food drives, doing good for everyone but herself, you know, especially since Ryan. So, it's nice to see her taking a moment to have some fun for a change. Park over there behind Will,” said Arya.

“Don’t get me wrong. It looks great. I'm guessing she paid someone to put them up this year.”

“Could be ... So, hey, I was thinking, maybe tonight, we should avoid mentioning our wedding. I know she’s coming, so we don’t need to talk about it. Today is all about Lyla and celebrating her 34th birthday, THE end.”

“It’s been ten months. I know there’s no time limit on grieving, but she seemed okay the last couple times we all hung out,” said Steven.

“I know, but still. You’re judging the book by its cover. I’ve known her since 3rd grade. She doesn’t deal well with grief. She avoids it. Bottles it up. Lives in complete denial. As an adult, she goes into the workaholic zone. Despite her work being admirable, in excess, it's still avoidance.”

“A lot of people do that though. It’s not unheard of. Cut her some slack. Maybe saving puppies from abandoned warehouses during a tropical storm fills the void.”

“That was one of her best rescues ... but you don’t understand. She mailed in her RSVP card a couple weeks ago, checked off plus one, and wrote ‘Ryan’ on the line.”

“Wow. Okay, I admit that is a bit odd, but maybe doing that made her feel better. He was supposed to be her plus one for life, after all.”

“I hope she’s not going into la-la land again.”

“What do you mean by again?”

“I hate even bringing this up because it was a long time ago and hasn’t happened since. Then again, she hasn’t really had a recent tragedy … Okay, in junior high, her golden retriever Luna died. She loved that fur ball more than life. Spent all her time with her. Luna got really sick and was hospitalized once, and they found out she had a cancerous stomach tumor. Luna had surgery, and every day at lunch, Lyla would bolt to the front office to call home and check on her. She could hardly think straight at school. A few months later, Luna died. Lyla missed one day of school, and I assumed it was because she was a wreck.

So, I went to cheer her up with a gift basket I put together. She opened the door grinning, and then I saw Luna! Only it wasn’t Luna! It was a new dog that looked exactly like Luna. Even had the same white spot on its back. She even called it Luna. Her mom told me she skipped school and made her dad run around all day to multiple shelters and pet shops to find a new Luna. A couple of our friends were so freaked out by it, they stopped talking to her. Here, sign. We’re so last minute. I’ve never forgotten to get her a birthday gift, but my mind has been in wedding-planner mode.”

Arya rush-wrapped Lyla’s birthday gift, a musical lamp with a color-changing shade they’d just picked up at Walgreens, while Steven signed the card.

“That’s pretty weird, but she was just a kid,” said Steven.

“There was another time.” Arya covered her face for a second before continuing.

“Oh, boy.”

“Back in high school, her mom collapsed in the kitchen while making dinner. Brain aneurysm. Next day, she called a group of us to go bowling. She was laughing, teasing, and jumping up and down, like it was any other day. She didn’t attend the funeral because she said she had Algebra homework. As usual, her dad just played along. Steph and I always did the same. Then just like that, she got super close to their housekeeper, Sandra, who she never cared about before. She bragged about how Sandra would make her favorite blueberry lemon pancakes, braided her hair a specific way, Friday night Scrabble games, just special things she shared with her mom.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah. There were some other things too that I don’t want to get into right now. So here we are. Now, she lost her husband and has to celebrate me gaining one. No matter what, that has to burn. I’m like a bad paper cut,” said Arya.

“Hey, don’t say that. She is happy for you. People have different ways of dealing with pain. Maybe avoidance is her magic shield. If it works for her, I don’t see a problem. Weird, sure, but I don’t see how it’s ever hurt anyone. In any case, my lips are sealed on the topic of weddings. But if you’re concerned, why don’t you just ask her.”

“She won’t talk, believe me. She’ll totally change the subject. She did sound chipper when we spoke last week, but I feel like the RSVP was a red flag. How does this look?” Arya held up the gift.

“Half-assed yet lovely. It's a win." He leaned over and kissed Arya’s lips gently. “Now, let’s get in there before Will eats all the spinach dip.”

***

“Hey! Come on in, you two. Steph and Will and I have already been tearing up the appetizers.”

The friends greeted each other, all feeling the absence of the sixth, Ryan. Lyla’s husband of eight years met with an untimely death during an annual hiking trip in Alaska with Steven and Will ten months prior. He’d slipped on a snowy mountaintop and fell off a steep ridge. His body was never found. Upon receiving the tragic news, Lyla refused to organize a memorial and rejected any help from her friends and family, keeping a low profile for months until she’d phoned Arya out of the blue, speaking of sports, weight loss, pie recipes, and inquired about the wedding planning. No mention of Ryan.

“Lyla, I was admiring those Christmas lights. They look fantastic! Did you hire someone to put them up?” said Steven.

“No, Ryan put ‘em up on his own. Took him an entire Sunday,” said Lyla.

The room went silent as each friend darted concerned looks at one another.

“It’s almost feeding time! I’m going to finish setting up the table, then we can grub. Just gimme a few minutes, guys.”

“Let me help you with that, Lyla,” said Steph.

“Oh, no, no. I got it. You all just relax, please.” Lyla danced toward the kitchen as Kacey Musgraves sang "Ribbons And Bows."

“Maybe he put them up, you know, before …” Will whispered.

“Now that I think about it, I don't recall them having lights last year,” said Arya.

"Will and I were going to offer to help her take them d ..."

“Who’s ready for my kick-ass pot roast!”

Lyla’s table full of her delectable cooking distracted them from the collective concern.

***

Lyla zipped up Arya’s wedding gown, and Steph helped secure the veil, its trail sparkling in the sunlit room.

“I’m so glad you girls are here. I’m going to take my seat. Her dad should be right outside when she’s ready,” said Arya’s mom, dabbing her eyes with a tissue.

Their usual gal-pal group hug felt extra sincere this day, a mix of unspoken mourning and celebration drawing them closer in heart and mind. The sincerity in Lyla’s eyes comforted Arya, and the weight of worry lifted from her shoulders.

“Okay, bridesmaids, go do your thing. I’ll be right behind you down the aisle. Tell Dad hang tight. I just need a minute.”

After a few deep breaths, Arya opened the door to the rest of her life and took her father’s arm.

“I love you, Babygirl.”

“I love you, Dad.”

As the harpist commenced with Here Comes the Bride, her appearance turned every head in the room. Steven’s smile calmed her nerves. Steph and Lyla found their spots on the stage. As she let go of her dad, she knew, this was it.

Steven leaned in to whisper, “Can I talk about our wedding now?”

She giggled and nodded.

***

Although the wedding was small, the photography sessions took a long time. The high of the I-do moment kept Arya energized, but her feet ached in her glittery heels. She rejoiced when she saw the just-married limo pull up front. She heard cheers for the bouquet, so she made her way to the curb and stood with her back to the hyper crowd.

“Alright! Get ready, single ladies!” Arya released the bouquet into the air, and all hands raised toward it. She was so exhausted, she didn’t even bother to see who got it. All she wanted was the limo champagne, her man, and the chance to finally free her toes from their agony.

“So, we did it.” Steven held his glass up for a toast.

“Yes, we did, and I’m starving!”

“Well, our barbecue feast awaits. You were so worried about Lyla, and she seemed as happy as us today.”

“She did, right? I noticed that too. She seemed really at ease, and I even saw her mingling.”

“Nice. I hope the good vibes stick with her for the long haul. She’s been through a lot. You’re a great friend, Babe.”

The limo came to a stop outside the hall, and Steven hopped out first to open Arya’s door. She’d swapped her heels for some pink Converse, and the couple entered the hall dancing to “Hey Look Ma, I Made it” and loud applause.

The smell of sweet mesquite made Arya’s stomach growl as she looked around waving at everyone, making her way to the special bride-and-groom table up front. Steph and Will were standing off to the side, only half smiling, their eyes locked in one direction, which caused her fervor to shift into slow motion.

Arya’s vibrant bouquet caught her attention across the room. Just above the rim of red roses and white gerbera daisies, she saw Lyla locking lips with a familiar man, his thick wavy brown hair, his pointy nose, even the chin dimple an exact match to the late Ryan. Arya felt her chest tighten.

"Oh, my God. No …”