Love on the Rocks (with Salt) by Charlene Ross Page B

by No Doubt
and Sean sent me a drink with a note saying I belonged on American
Idol. Then he called me up to sing a duet with him. It was so
hokey, but we’ve been together ever since. He proposed later at the
same bar.”
    “ Without asking your father and me
for your hand first,” Momzilla says, not quite under her
breath.
    “ Mom! We’re thirty years old, and
I haven’t lived under your roof since high school. It’s 2007, not
1907!”
    “ You may not have lived under my
roof for the last twelve years, but who supported you in college
and grad school? And who’s paying for this wedding? Oh sure, you
expect me to foot the bill, but a little common courtesy toward
tradition is too much to ask for?”
    Gabriella raises a well-plucked
eyebrow at me and suppresses a smirk. I think she secretly takes
pleasure in the drama. Or she would, if she took pleasure in
anything.
    “ What do you think Gabriella’s
like in bed?” Kim once asked me over happy hour
cocktails.
    I crinkled my nose. “Ugh. I don’t
know what’s worse. Envisioning her on top of Nathan or Nathan on
top of her.” Gabriella is tall, five-ten, but she can’t weigh more
than one hundred and ten pounds. Nathan is six-four and has to be
pushing three hundred. “He’d crush her, and I can’t see how she
could possibly straddle him.”
    “ Maybe they do it doggy style.”
She winked.
    I pretended to stick my finger
down my throat and vomit. “That’s gross. Now you’ve taken it too
far. You, my friend, are drunk.”
    “ I just wonder
if she even enjoys it,” Kim said, suddenly serious. “She walks
around with that bitch face all the time. It makes me wonder if she
enjoys anything .”
    “ Power and money. That’s what she
enjoys.”
    “ Maybe she has a stripper pole.
You know, keeps it under the bed and clicks it into a slot in the
ceiling when Nathan wants a show.” Kim pantomimed clicking an
imaginary pole into the ceiling.
    “ You have to stop,” I said,
throwing a chip at her. “If you say one more word about this I
really am going to vomit.”
    I smile at the memory and watch
Gabriella expertly take control of the situation. “What an adorable
story. You should consider singing that duet at your reception.
Your friends and family will love it. Now,” she says, steering the
conversation back to the task at hand, “I see you have an envelope.
Did you bring some pictures of designs you like?”
    “ Oh yes,” Sarah says, reaching for
the envelope.
    If I had to place a bet, I’d say she pulls out
a picture of Katie Holmes and Tom Cruise, but she surprises me and
pulls out a few pictures from a bridal magazine.
    “ Oh, yes.” Gabriella coos,
flipping through the pages. “Very pretty, very pretty. Take a look,
Laney,” she says handing me the pages.
    Sarah likes dresses with a lot of
lace and very full skirts. Gabriella’s least favorite design. Not
that it should matter to her, but she prefers simple, understated
elegance, and I have to admit this is one place we agree. But if
the bride wants lace and full skirts, she’ll get lace and a full
skirt.
    “ Tell me exactly, if you can
Sarah, what it is that speaks to you about these
designs.”
    I hand the pages back to
Sarah, and as she points out what she likes about each dress, I
“take notes.” She’s actually quite good with her descriptions. So
many brides pull out a paparazzi photo of the latest hot celebrity
and say, “I want to look like this.” Yeah,
me too!
    “ Excuse me,” Momzilla says
suddenly, “what is your assistant doing?”
    Gabriella and I exchange a look.
This is how we always do it; we’ve never been called out before.
“I’m just taking notes for Gabriella to refer to when she’s
creating Sarah’s gown,” I say, hoping I don’t piss off Gabriella by
speaking.
    “ I hope so. I’m paying for a dress
designed by Gabriella!”
    “ And that is certainly what you
shall get,” Gabriella assures her. “But if you’d feel more
comfortable, I can