EXCEPTional

Ch. 34 (Bridget)

*Bridget*

      On Saturday, a huge package from Brimwell Publishing came in the mail. It included a more official congratulatory note, and transfer paperwork so I could transfer smoothly from small-time editor to creative director. I spent the first half of my day finishing the paperwork.

      The next half of my day consisted of a very exhausting phone call with my dad.

      "Hey, dad. What's up?" I answered, resting a hand on my hip.

      "What the hell is this?" he boomed in fury. "Did you get this shit?"

      I knew immediately what he was referring to: the wedding invitation. I released a sigh and settled into the recliner—I knew how long he could rant.

      He plunged right into it. "Why is your mother getting married? She's, like, fifty. Fifty-year-olds don't get married!"

      I wasn't about to argue against him. Any comment from me would just illicit an even worse rant from him, because I was actually happy mom was getting married. And in his own way, dad was happy for her, too. He just needed to get really angry first.

      "And who the hell gets married in Paris? Okay, maybe French people. But your mom's a purebred American! She was born and raised in Brimwell. People in Brimwell don't get married in France!"

      My eyes rolled. I didn't dare point out that for the past sixteen years, mom had been living in France. And I doubted she would ever leave, so she would spend most of her life in France, not in Brimwell.

      Dad huffed as he tried to think of more things to complain about. "Oh, and why is she sending these things out so damn late? You don't send the invites two weeks before the weeding. Some people need a month in advance to plan. Damn that woman. You know, Colleen has always been spontaneous. I bet he didn't propose until last month. Your mom and I planned our wedding for a year and half! Well, mostly because she spent almost six months trying to convince me that marriage was a bad idea," he rambled on.

      If I wanted to, I could pull the phone away from my ear and when I put it there again, I would know exactly what he had said.

      "I mean, what could have possibly kept her so busy that she couldn't send out the invites earlier?" he demanded. "Give us some time to plan! Some of us have work. Did she consider that? Maybe we have to let work know we won't be there. Maybe some of us actually have lives."

      I let out a long sigh. My patience was running thin with him. I knew he would be upset about the news, because he had never truly gotten over her, but I thought it would be at least a little better than this, since he had Donna now. But I guess it hit him harder than expected.

      He groaned, and then exhaled slowly. "I'm sorry, pumpkin. I'm going off on you, and clearly this isn't your fault."

      "Obviously not," I agreed, adjusting in my seat.

      His blew forcefully out of his mouth before he asked, "So, are you going?"

      My eyes closed and a frown creased my features. "No, I'm not," I admitted, quiet and solemn.

      "What? Why not?" he asked, his voice assuming an irritated edge. "This is your mother's wedding, Bridget. And you're her maid of honor!"

      I squeezed my eyes tighter. "I know, dad. Trust me, I know. But I can't afford the trip there."

      He scoffed. "Of course you can. You've been putting money into your account for years!"

      "Which college drained," I countered bitterly.