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“So, like, what did Timothée actually say when you told him?” Caroline asked, already on her last sip of rosé. Luckily, the waiter had set their table up with a champagne bucket so they could refill their glasses as they pleased.
“I mean, IDK,” she said with a flustered tone. “Like, I know he’s the best wedding planner ever per my mom, but like, I almost feel like he’s taking too much control of this entire thing.”
Caroline finally reached over and grabbed the sweating bottle. It was unseasonably hot in the city so rather than go to their usual patio spot for happy hour, they made a reservation at a nice restaurant in the same area. Caroline knew something was up when she received a text earlier that day that said, “Mama needs a drink.” That was the bat signal for “something’s wrong.”
“Okay, so let me just get this straight,” Caroline clarified after topping herself off. “You want outdoors, he wants some rustic venue. Todd doesn’t care, and you hate that he doesn’t care. Your parents want a church, but you can’t find any that fit your aesthetic. Am I missing anything?”
She sat across the table looking completely put off. Her mid-afternoon meeting with their wedding planner, Timothée, was only supposed to last an hour but ended up bleeding into two hours thus butting up to his next appointment. Neither left the conversation with any sort of comfort regarding the mountainside Aspen wedding that she considered to be the social event of 2019.
“Ughhhhhh,” she moaned looking down at her phone which was filled with photos of potential wedding venues. “It’s like, wouldn’t it just be easier to elope at this point? Like, I’m just constantly stressed. How did you and John decide on anything?”
Caroline, while somewhat caring because she was her friend, didn’t really care to get involved with the planning of the wedding. Everyone knew it was going to be an arduous process and her involvement would only be a recipe for disaster.
“I think you just have to do you,” Caroline weighed in. She felt it was the perfect response. Non-committal and not trying too hard to sway her one way, but also relaying to her what she wanted to hear. “This is your day, after all.”
She nodded along, swirling her wine like she saw on Somm on Netflix.
“Have you figured anything else out for it yet?” Caroline hesitantly asked.
It was almost as if that question was welcomed with open arms, like she wanted to talk about the certainties rather than the uncertainties. The things she could control.
“I mean, yes,” she blurted out. “Todd and I have been going around watching bands trying to figure out who we want to hire. Todd originally wanted a DJ but I talked him out of that real quick.”
“Wait,” Caroline stopped her. “Are you flying a band from here to… Aspen?”
“I mean, yeah,” she affirmed. “Like, we could get a band there but I don’t want some bluegrass hicks playing my wedding. And besides, whenever we go to Aspen to do the planning, there’s just no way we’re going to have time to listen to more than one or two. Katie’s band was good, I guess, but I want ours to blow hers out of the water.”
Caroline, afraid that they were going to get into a shit-talking competition comparing everyone’s weddings, knew not to weigh in for fear it would come back to bite her. She reached over the table to once again grab the bottle or rosé and asked, “Top you off with the rest?”
“Ugh,” she said while lifting her glass. “Yes. Puh-lease.”
“I think you just keep figuring things out one by one and just see where everything falls,” Caroline assured her. “At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter where the actual ceremony is because everyone just remembers the reception.”
“Don’t even get me STARTED on the reception,” she interrupted. But unfortunately for Caroline, that’s exactly what her comment did. “We have a couple venues picked out but Timothée is trying to convince us to just get a tent in the middle of the grounds of some hotel there. Like, if I wanted to get married in a tent, I’d go fucking camping.”
Caroline laughed. Partially because she found the statement to be amusing, but even more so to lift the spirits at the table from frustration to buzzed banter.
“Well, I mean,” Caroline leaned in, “if you need any help, I’m always here for you.” She wasn’t going to be. “And if you need me to do anything, I’d be more than happy to help.” Again, she wasn’t but as the Maid of Honor she felt like it was her responsibility to at least offer her help.
“TBH,” she said, “I think I may just need a wine buddy between now and the wedding. But, like, not when we get closer to the wedding because I’ll be on my wedding diet and I don’t need the puffiness I get from sauvy b.”
Caroline again laughed, this time for real. “Trust me,” she told her, “I get it, I hope I never have to do a wedding diet again until I’m trying to lose baby weight. I’m going to go full Kim Kardashian.”
“Like, I’m not going to stop my wedding diet until you tell me that I look sickly, and then I’ll know I’m done.”
Caroline raised her glass and sarcastically said, “Cheers to that,” before they each smiled and looked down at their phones.
“Did John text you?” she asked. “Todd just texted me.”
“Yeah, they’re together again,” Caroline responded. “Do you actually want to get dinner with them? I freaking hate Burger Bar and that’s where John said they wanted to go.”
“I mean…” she trailed off, likely because she was catching up on her texts from Todd. “Yeah, he wants to go there too. Can we just, like, order apps here and then meet them?”
Caroline, without answering, simply started typing back to John and relayed that exact plan. Without confirming that’s what their actual plan was, she waved down their water and loudly told him, “Actually, can we see that food menu again?”
He nodded and pulled one out of his back pocket that he had just gotten from the table over before leaning down and saying with a muted voice, “Just a head’s up, the oysters are still on special but happy hour ends in five minutes so get it in now.”
“Oysties?” Caroline asked.
“Oysties!” she responded excitedly before looking to the waiter. “We’ll do a dozen East Coast, your call on which.”
“I’ll text John and tell him we’ll meet them after if they still want to be out,” Caroline followed.
Looking down at her rosé, she looked up with honest eyes and simply told her, “Caroline, I’m really glad we did this.”
“Me too!” Caroline assured her. “Anything you want. I am your Maid of Honor, after all.”
“Soooooo does that mean you’ll go dress shopping with me next week?” .