Emily's Friend

“There’ll be food and free drinks—come on, it’ll be fun!” 

“…Okay.”

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How is it that I’ve survived this long as such a pushover? Even in the best of circumstances—attending an event I want to be at with people I know and care about—weddings are ridiculous affairs. And this? This room full of buzzing strangers is absolute hell.

But I never really could say no to Emily, my best (and possibly only) friend of over a decade. If it weren’t for her, I could probably spend the rest of my life holed up in my apartment with a good book, show, or video game during my free time and be perfectly content. Exchanging a polite greeting with the cashier at the grocery store was enough to fill my social meter for an entire month and even that was pushing it. Thank God for delivery services.  

From the first time I set eyes on her, something about her drew me in, though. All she had to do was turn those sparkling, hopeful eyes my way, and I would melt. Every. Single. Time. It didn’t matter what the ask was if Emily was doing the asking. I was suddenly up for anything and everything. The very definition of a magnetic personality, I wasn’t the only one drawn to her effervescent charm. She had more “close friends” at any given moment than I’d probably have in my whole life. Even now, while she was the center of my social circle, I was perhaps “Best Friend #11” in hers. Sometimes, this caused her problems. Even though she has more than enough compassion and love to go around, misunderstandings would arise. Even at our age, some people don’t like sharing their friends with others or aren’t as comfortable as I am with the possibility that they may not be as important to Emily as she is to them. Early on, I admit, I struggled with some jealousy, but while many confronted her or tried to force her to choose them over others, I decided to simply be grateful to know her. I worry sometimes that she gives too much of herself. Spreads herself too thin. So, I figure I could be a soft place for her to land when she needs it—someone who isn’t going to always take from her.

I don’t mind being a side character in her story. And she is undoubtedly the main character. 

Even here, at someone else’s wedding, she shines more brightly than anyone else. Even the bride—a college roommate, apparently—pales in comparison. It’s not anything she does intentionally. It’s just hard for people not to be drawn to her. Being near her, I think, feels a lot like being a cat taking a nap in the sun. 

As she flits from group to group, cracking jokes, doling out compliments, and catching up with old friends, I sip my free beer and chew on my free dinner roll, content to watch her. I don’t know anyone else here, and even if I did, at this point in the evening, I’m done trying to socialize with anyone other than the bartender.

It took an hour to get here, a run-down farm outside of town, because the bride and groom thought a barn wedding would make for a cute setting. Emily, of course, was part of the bridal party, which meant we had to get here early, and I spent most of my time trying to keep out of the way. Still, the ceremony was tolerable, as they usually are; all I had to do was sit there and not fall asleep as the blissful couple exchanged their vows. Even the start of the reception wasn’t so bad. Forced conversations over dinner with strangers are less burdensome with Emily around; she chats so effortlessly, like an experienced lead in a dance, and all I have to do follow her. Things are starting to get burdensome now, though, as people increasingly scatter to mingle and dance as they get increasingly intoxicated. 

“Everyone’s starting to get rowdy, huh?” a tiny older woman was suddenly at my elbow. I nod and grunt some kind of agreement as I lift my beer back to my lips to try and avoid the conversation, figuring she’ll continue on her way. 

“How do you know the couple?” She continues, not put off at all. Life is rarely so straightforward.

“I don’t really. I came with a friend,” I gesture towards Emily, who had returned to fawning over the bride with the rest of the flock of colorfully attired bridesmaids, “She’s a friend of the bride.” 

“Oh, of course, Emily! I had wondered who she had come with. We just adore her,” the woman gushed. Of course, she also knew Emily; it always seemed everyone did, “I’m Kara’s mother! They’ve been best friends since college. Really, Emily should have been Maid of Honor, but Jeremy’s younger sister had her heart set on it, and she’s just a teenager…”

I tuned out as she rambled on, paying just enough attention to nod or mumble at appropriate intervals. Finally, Emily and I locked eyes. She must’ve sensed my desperation. Save me. A playful smile touched her lips, her eyes lighting up as she thought of something funny, no doubt at my expense. She kissed the bride, Kara, on the cheek and squeezed her arm before extricating herself from the group and making her way towards me again. 

“Mrs. Barry, Kara mentioned that they were thinking of leaving soon,” Emily said, looping her arm through mine as her other hand plucked my beer out of my grasp. I watched intently as she brought it to her lips and took a sip before returning it to me. For some reason, my breath felt heavy, and my eyes were dry. I blinked—too many times, perhaps.

“Oh, thank you for telling me! I was chatting with your friend here – I promise I didn’t share anything too embarrassing! I’ll help Kara make her escape, make sure you find me before you leave! It was a pleasure meeting you…oh,” She hesitated as she realized we hadn’t introduced ourselves.

I fixed my face with what I hoped was a friendly smile, “Charlie.” She nodded and grinned before bustling back off toward her daughter. I turned my attention back to Emily, “Do you want me to grab you a beer?”

“No, I promised to get you back home safe and sound, didn’t I? I’m your gallant D.D. Why don’t we go ahead and head out? I already said goodbye to Kara and Jeremy.”  

Even through my slight beer buzz, something about Emily’s tone gave me pause. It was as if the warmth was draining from her tone; her smile suddenly appeared thinner than usual, and her posture seemed tense. Suddenly, whatever façade she had managed to put on for the wedding just wasn’t holding anymore, and the cracks were spreading fast. I let her steer me out of the barn and across a field to where the cars were parked. As we closed our doors, I reached out and put my hand over hers on the gear stick before she could pull out.

“Emily, what’s wrong?”

Her whole body tensed at my question before suddenly, as if she had lost all energy, she slumped over the steering wheel and let out a low, frustrated groan. Soon, her shoulders seemed to shake, and I realized she had started to cry. After sitting like that for several minutes, the shaking seemed to slow, and she finally said, “You know, it’s not just Kara I know. We were all friends in college. Jeremy, too. A few weeks ago, he said he was getting nervous. Having second thoughts. He wanted someone to talk to and have a drink with. Like old times. I guess we got a little carried away because I don’t really remember everything except…”

She trailed off into silence again. She hadn’t moved from her position slumped over the wheel, so her hair fell to cover her face and hide her expression. My heart felt like something had reached out and was squeezing it to the point where I wasn’t sure I’d survive whatever she said next, but that didn’t stop me from prompting her,

“Except?”

“I’m pregnant.” The words were barely a whisper, escaping her like a dying breath. She still hadn’t looked up from the steering wheel, but I could see fresh stains on her dress as the tears began again and fell to hit her lap. Suddenly, I didn’t see my Emily anymore. There was no warmth, no glow, no magnetic charm. In her place was a small, fragile figure made of glass and ready to shatter. Her hand still rested under mine on the gear shift. I squeezed it. Then, I lifted my arm to envelope her shoulders and pulled her close for a clumsy, awkward hug. The dam burst, and those silent tears turned into violent sobs that racked her entire body.

Across the field in front of the barn, a crowd spilled out of the old building as the bride and groom went to their limo to head out for their honeymoon and begin their married life. As her cries quieted, the laughter and cheers of guests could be heard even from across the field. Soon, though, even that quieted as guests either left or piled back into the venue to continue eating and drinking. 

Finally, Emily lifted her head to look at me, her eyes sparkling with tears, “Charlie, you’re not mad at me, are you? You’ll help me, won’t you?”

“Of course, Emily. I’ll do anything for you.”