Trust Your Soul [Preview]

Chapter 1

Maren

I never want people to laugh at me.

I worry. All the time. That they might.  Which is why this bridal business launches my anxiety into a new dimension. According to my sister, Libby, I'm supposed to be comfortable on my wedding day. There's nothing comfortable about making the decisions. The venue. The menu. Photography. Music...Wedding rings. Bride, bride, I'm a bride...Don't screw this up. What if my guests laugh at me?

"Maren?" Jackie says, checking her phone again. "Caleb's joining us, right?" Her tone is heightened more than the last time she asked. Five minutes ago.

"He'll be here." Won't he? He wouldn't not show up at the St. Royal Hotel on Central Park South. Caleb was supposed to be here twenty minutes ago. Tick tock. Tick tock. The rhythm beneath my skin.

Jackie's phone. Again. "If you'll excuse me, I have to take this."

Jackie leaves the room. This is where I'm getting married. There are no chairs or flowers today, just a makeshift bar. We're supposed to taste appetizers that will materialize soon as Caleb arrives.

My eyes sweep over the room overloaded by the foiled gold leaf wallpaper pattern. It was either this room or the one with all the mirrors. My gaze drifts up to the high ceiling with metal tiles of 4 x 4 mini squares making for a solid array.

This wedding business is too much. Need a distraction. My phone always has one. Opening the Autism Study Sync (ASS) app and snorting a laugh. I'm currently enrolled in a data collection program for adults on the spectrum and bravo to whoever named this study, the acronym is brilliant. Autism in children and teens has been studied so much that the researchers couldn't keep up and analyze what happens when we grow up. Now they're all over that. I'm participating as a member of what they call a cohort. If that's not cool, I don't know what is.

Every time I'm stressed or having trouble socially, I log into ASS and check boxes with my corresponding feelings and write a comment about why I'm upset. In big bold letters I type, I'M NERVOUS I'LL MESS UP THE WEDDING and close the app. I tuck my phone in my handbag. Where did Jackie go?

She's over by the doorway, her back to me, her voice low. "No, the groom's that lawyer and he's a no-show. Again." She nods her head. Her black ponytail bobs as she does. "... Another bride thinking this wedding will last. If the groom can't even show up now—" She laughs into the phone. "I know," Jackie answers with throaty laughter. "Oh good, so drinks? Soon as my client decides if she's staying." Jackie ends the call and takes a moment to check her phone.

"Are you talking about me?" I ask bluntly.

Jackie spins around, her eyes meet mine and her face transforms. Her eyes get huge, her jaw drops open. "Maren, no. Absolutely not. I was talking about someone else."

"You have another client who's marrying a lawyer?"

"I—yes." Her mouth opens and closes swiftly. "What do you say I check on the food? You can start without Caleb."

A funny feeling takes root in my stomach. Caleb missed the last tasting. Jackie says she's not talking about me but I think she is. I don't even want to deal with this wedding stuff in the first place and despite my growling stomach, I couldn't eat with the nerves taking over.

"Maren," she says, returning, "just...forget what you heard, okay?"

"I can't un-hear that. You said it."

She smiles, taking another step closer. "I wasn't talking about you," she says more firmly.

"Who were you talking about then? They should know your opinion. The correct term is two-faced."