The Wedding Guest

The Wedding Guest

“May I join you?”

“Huh? Wha… you mean… here?”

“I mean, this is where you are, so… yes”

“I, uh, well, I mean…. this is pretty weird.”

“Well, I would agree that a beautiful girl under a table at a wedding reception surrounded by entire platters of hors d’oeuvres is pretty weird…. But here you are.”

“Right.”

“I’ll just move these bacon-wrapped meatballs a little closer to you and I can scooch in right here. So, you can call me Davis, what should I call you?”

“What should you call me?”

“Sure. You don’t have to tell me your real name. Might be awkward.”

“Um...”

“I mean, you can if you want to. Your call. You’re obviously making a lot of interesting choices today.”

“Uh, ok. Call me Taylor.”

“You a Swiftie?”

“Huh? Oh, no. I mean, I like her and all. But that’s not why. It’s my favorite aunt’s name.”

“Interesting. I don’t have a favorite aunt. Why is she your favorite?”

“She’s just really cool. Works at this ad agency, has an amazing apartment in New York City filled with art pieces that she’s collected from all over the world, has an incredible wardrobe.”

“Well that definitely sounds cool.”

“And she’s really funny. I think she’s probably gay but I’m not sure.”

“Okay so you’re Taylor, like the maybe gay ad agency executive from the Big Apple.”

“Oh I’m not gay.”

“Yea, no, I wasn’t suggesting…”

“AND NOW LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, LET’S PLEASE STAND AND FOR THE FIRST TIME, WELCOME MR. AND MRS. ROBERT HARDING!”

“Ugh. Oh wait a minute, wait a minute. You can’t cry. Why are you crying? You really shouldn’t cry. Dammit with all these platters surely you grabbed a napkin or something… Ah! There’s a doily thing under these crabcakes. That will have to do. Here, take it…. You know, my father used to carry a handkerchief in his pocket at all times and would just whip it out and offer it to anyone who might need it. Very chivalrous, right? No one does that anymore. At least I don’t…. Okay now you really do need to stop crying. Take a deep breath. Ok now another one. Wow, you are losing a lot of mascara, I have to tell you. Let’s take another deep breath – I’ll do it with you. Okay, good. That’s better. Better, right? Well, now I see why you’re under the table.”

“That’s my boyfriend.”

“Who is? The groom? I don’t think so. I mean, in light of the circumstances and all …”

“No, he is. I love him, and he loves me. I mean, I think he still does love me! I was with him for eight years! I was in his sister’s wedding! He was the one! Everyone knew it! Then suddenly six months ago he dumps me and takes up with her! They have only been together for six months!”

“Hmmmm.”

“She’s from some rich family or something. But Bob really isn’t the kind of guy to just go after someone for money. That’s so not him. And my family is not exactly poor!”

“Bob?”

“That’s his name.”

“I mean, I get that, but Bob? Could he have a more basic name?”

“It’s a palindrome. We used to joke about that…”

“Now, now come on, don’t start crying again. Bob is a fine name.”

“He just dumped me without any explanation. Just said he loved me and wanted to protect me! Protect me!? By dumping me and marrying someone else? How is that protecting me?”

“Maybe he got in with some bad guys or got in some trouble or something?”

“I mean maybe but what would that have to do with him dumping me and running off to marry someone else?”

“Yea, that is odd…”

“It just doesn’t make any sense. It doesn’t seem real.”

“Well if you ask me, Bob sounds like a real jerk.”

“But that’s just it, he’s not a jerk. Not at all.”

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, IT’S TIME FOR THE BRIDE AND GROOM TO HAVE THEIR FIRST DANCE. THEY HAVE CHOSEN THE FRANK SINATRA CLASSIC, ‘THE WAY YOU LOOK TONIGHT.’ LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, YOUR BRIDE AND GROOM!”

“Oh GOD! That was going to be our song! Oh my God!”

“Oh no, let me see if there’s another doily around here. You gotta get it together, Taylor Who Is Not Gay. You gotta stop crying. You gotta get over Bob. I mean, really. He’s moved on and you can obviously do so much better than that guy. Just stop crying.”

“Okay. Okay. I know. I know I have to move on.”

“Look, I gotta ask. Why on earth are you here? This seems like the last place you would want to be.”

“I needed to see if it was real. Maybe confront him?”

“Oh I wouldn’t do that…”

“I tried to get into the ceremony, but there were all these guards at the door. I was able to get in here through the kitchen.”

“Hence the appetizer buffet…”

“Yea. I used to be bulimic.”

“Used to be?”

“Yea, in high school. And some of college. But I went to therapy for a long time and got better.”

“You sure you’re better?”

“Well, I felt a little triggered today, as you can imagine. So I grabbed all this just in case.”

“In case…”

“Yep. Already planning on calling my therapist tomorrow.”

“Sounds like a good idea. For so many reasons.”

“Yea, she told me not to come here.”

“Sounds like a good therapist.”

“Oh yes, very.”

“OK, I know why you are here, but why are you here? Under the table?”

“I didn’t want anyone to see me. I just wanted to know if it was real.”

“Well, it definitely seems to be real.”

“Maybe I can just peek out there a little bit, just for a second…”

“I think your therapist was right. You should not have come. And now what are you going to do? Just hide here until the whole reception is over? That could be hours!”

“I didn’t really think that part through.”

“No.”

“You could help me! You could help me get out!”

“Oh no, definitely not. I’m trying to stay under the radar, do what I came to do, then scoot out, unseen. Speaking of which, it sounds like it’s time for me to go do my thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Oh, I was hired to come and kill Bob.”

The End