Chapter Five

April 2019

As expected, Mandy was not ready when her hairstylist, Ashley, knocked on her hotel room door. The breakfast plates were still out, coffee had not been adequately drunk, and Mandy hadn't even finished one eye. Almost every palette of eye shadow she owned was strewn all over the bed, because she had somehow forgotten to pack the one she needed most. She contemplated driving all the way home to get it, but she had no idea where it could be if it wasn't with all her other makeup supplies. Plus, she was already running behind.

This was an omen of things to come.

The thought sprang quickly and entirely unwanted into Mandy's head and brewed there like kombucha, fermenting until it turned sour.

How could she believe that this day was even possible? Only people in books or movies got to marry their one true love—princesses in fairy tales were guaranteed their happily ever after, not Amanda Dean. And despite Dad's insistence on calling Mandy princess , she couldn't have been further from one if she tried.

Sure, she had more luxuries in life than most—this was something that never escaped Mandy's consciousness. She was privileged. But not when it came to relationships. And when it came to love, Mandy had always been downright cursed.

"Getting excited?" Ashley asked as she emptied her large metal case full of supplies. She had already plugged in a flat iron and a curling iron—although those two things seemed counterintuitive together—and unloaded at least half a dozen products onto the table in the hotel's kitchenette. Ashley had always rocked the casual comfort look. It was one of the things that Mandy liked most about her. She had an air of calmness about her, like nothing in the world was worth getting upset about. Ashley was the poster girl for go-with-the-flow . Today was no different: her red hair swept up into an effortless messy bun, her glowing porcelain skin—like did she even have pores?—and her yoga pants and tank had Mandy feeling a little jealous since she was such a wreck.

"Excited?" Mandy asked more to herself than to answer Ashley. Nervous. Anxious. Completely terrified. All better descriptors of what Mandy was feeling.

"Butterflies, huh?" Ashley opened a bag full of brightly colored rollers. "Everything's going to be fine. I've done this a thousand times, and I have no horror stories to tell." The look on Ashley's face said she wanted to add the word unfortunately to that statement. Would Mandy be Ashley's first horror story? Would she be the bride Ashley told all her future clients about? A warning to them about what not to do?

This last wedding I did, let me tell you, was doomed before I even walked into the hotel room , Ashley would say as she brushed out her future client's hair. A garden wedding. In April. Enough said. Am I right?

Mandy glanced out the sliding glass door at the gray sky. They paid the "sunshine tax" living in Southern California, but that wasn't paying off today. It was as if May haze had come early. Of course there was a plan B if it rained, but then it wouldn't be her perfect springtime garden wedding anymore, would it?

"Let's make you a mimosa or two and get you ready." Ashley held up a bottle of champagne that had been delivered earlier that morning, and water from the melted ice dripped back into the bucket. "What do you say?"

Mandy couldn't argue. If today was going to end in disaster anyway, at least she could be drunk when it happened, right? "Is it too early for a margarita?"

"Now that's my kind of girl." Ashley walked over to the hotel phone and ordered them each a margarita and some chips and salsa—because could you really drink margaritas without them? The answer was always no.

Mandy gestured to her face. "I should probably finish—"

"Yeah, go. We have plenty of time." Ashley plopped down into one of the overstuffed chairs in the main room as Mandy retreated to the bathroom.

It was quiet in there—aside from the gentle hum of the fan—but the sound soothed Mandy more than it annoyed her. How many times had she stood in front of a bathroom mirror questioning if what she was about to do would really turn out the way she wanted?

And how many of those times did things go her way?

Not as many as Mandy wanted to admit. But didn't that mean she was due? That now was her time, and the universe would find a way to start to balance it out for her? As she smudged a shimmering peach powder on her eyelid, Mandy could almost feel her spirits rise. If today was meant to be awful and terrible, at least she would look fabulous while it happened. Except, crap. Had she used a different color on her other eye? She had been so focused she didn't even realize what color combinations she'd used on each eye until it was done, and what a look that was. She got a makeup wipe out of its little bag, carefully removed the offending color, and started over.

"Margaritas are here," Ashley yelled from the other room.

Mandy stared at herself in the mirror. "We should've ordered a pitcher."

"Oh, come on, girl. You got this. I've seen the things you can do with an eyeliner pencil. You'll be done in no time, and everything is going to be okay."

How could she be so sure? "You're not married, are you?"

"Oh god, no. But that doesn't mean I don't know true love when I see it. You know I'd tell you if I thought this was a mistake."

It was true, Ashley never lied to Mandy, not even the time she toned Mandy's hair and it turned an awful ashy blue; Ashley straight-up said it looked like shit and that she would fix it. And she did.

"I'm gonna finish getting set up in here, and you just take your time." Ashley ducked out of the doorway and left Mandy alone with her thoughts.

"All brides are stressed on their wedding day," Ashley shouted from the other room like she was reading Mandy's mind. "This is all totally normal."

Hearing that allowed Mandy to calm down just enough to get into a groove with her makeup. And just like Ashley said, in no time at all it was finished.

She quickly cleaned up all her palettes, grabbed her cell, and headed toward the main room. But before she could even clear the doorway, her cell rang, and when she checked the screen, dread sank into Mandy's stomach.

There could be only one reason her wedding planner was calling right now, so before Mandy even pressed the phone to her ear, she braced herself for bad news.

"Candy?" Mandy tentatively answered.

"I don't want you to stress out"— too late —"but there is a little issue with the catering. It seems the boat that goes out each morning to catch fish for the day hasn't come back—"

"What do you mean the boat didn't come back? Where did it go?" Mandy tried to keep her voice level as her hand gripped her cell phone tighter and she began to pace.

"Listen, Mandy. There's no need to panic," Candy reasoned. "I've already reached out to my contacts, and I'm on track to get the freshest halibut you've ever eaten. No one will miss the golden trout. I promise." She sounded so sensible, so relaxed.

Mandy wanted to shake her.

"I don't think I can handle it if anything else goes wrong today." Mandy's chest was heavy. "Candy, promise me there won't be anything else."

Candy giggled. "Girl. Do. Not. Stress. This is what you pay me the big bucks for. Let me do the worrying, and you just finish getting ready. I'll take care of everything."

Tell that to the fishermen who were now lost somewhere in the ocean. What was the name of the boat? The Titanic ?

"I'm going to take your silence to mean you're good with the change and we're moving forward," Candy said.

No, the silence was because Mandy couldn't breathe, let alone talk about fish options.

"Go drink a mimosa. I got this. Candy out." And with that she disconnected.

Mandy walked past Ashley—who sat patiently on the couch—to the ice bucket holding the champagne, and chugged straight from the bottle.

"Easy now," Ashley said. "Let's order some sandwiches or something." Before Mandy could answer, Ashley was already on the phone with room service again.

It was silly to get this upset over fish, but to Mandy it was just another thing to go wrong. Cold shower, missing bacon, Mom and her stupid shoes, forgetting her eye shadow palette, gray skies, now a missing boat, then what? Maybe there'd be a monsoon? Or an earthquake that would open up a huge hole in the earth and she'd fall inside, never to be seen again.

"Get me a blueberry muffin, please," Mandy said. Candy would handle this. Everything would be okay. Trout was basic anyway. Mandy repeated these things over and over in her head.

Ashley took the phone away from her mouth. "They say breakfast is ov—"

"Blueberry muffin!" Mandy yelled. Then in a much calmer voice added, "Please."

"We don't care how much it costs," Ashley said to whomever she was talking to.

At that moment Mandy didn't care. She needed something to go right—to feel like things were back on track. To feel like she was in control.

But she wasn't, and the more time ticked on, the more it felt like she never would be again.