Bridesmaid

by Miss Jessica

"Ohmigod, it’s beautiful," I squealed, looking at Lisa’s hand, "And it’s huge! What is it, two and a half carats?"

"Two seven-five," said Lisa, "and look at the cut and clarity. Jim does good work."

"It really is great. Congratulations," I said, giving her a hug.

"There’s something else Brian. I want you in my wedding party."

"I’d love to," I said, then paused. "But I would think Jim has some other people, like maybe everyone else he knows, that he’d rather have as ushers, don’t you."

Lisa grinned devilishly. "I didn’t say I wanted you to be an usher. I said I wanted you in MY wedding party. As a bridesmaid."

"Come again?"

"You heard me. I want you to be a bridesmaid. You’re my best friend. How could you not be in the bridal party?"

"Um, I don’t think so. Thanks but no thanks."

"Come on. Please? Why won’t you do it? I thought you were my best friend."

"I am. I would do anything for you, you know that."

"Then, why won’t you do it?"

"Number 1...Whatever usher gets stuck walking down with me will be pretty pissed off. I mean, most guys wouldn’t be too cool being part of a male couple. And Jim’s got some real troglodytes for friends. I’d be a splotch on the aisle when they got through with me..."

Lisa grinned. "Brian, you don’t get it. I said that I wanted you as a BRIDESMAID."

The little light went on in my head. "Which brings us to problems 2 and 3. First off, just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I’m a drag queen. Besides that, I doubt we could pull this off."

She rolled her eyes. "We could so do it, and you know it."

"Oh, really? What makes you say that?" I said, crossing my arms.

"Look at you. You’re what 5'6", 135?"

"5'7", thank you and 140."

"Fine. Anyway, how many times have we gone out to eat, and had the waiters say ‘what can I get you ladies?"

"Umm." I said, staring at the floor.

"Also, everytime I go to the deli downstairs, the guy at the counter says, ‘where is your friend? She is such pretty girl, why she no dress like you?’"

"So, some waiters and a Bangladeshi deli owner think I’m a girl. This proves your point how?"

"It’s not just them. You have such delicate features. Long lashes, high cheekbones. No facial or body hair. You’re so pretty. That and your hips are bigger than your waist. Honestly, it’s more like you’re passing as a boy than a girl..."

"Thanks," I interrupted. "I feel so much better now. You’re really selling me on this, you know."

"I’m sorry, Bri. I don’t mean to hurt you. You know that. It’s just that it wouldn’t be the same unless you were in my wedding."

"I know."

"So, you’ll do it?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No," I said flatly.

"I can’t believe you," she said angrily.

"I’m sorry, Lise. I’d do anything for you. I’d give you my last dollar. I’d give you the shirt off my back..."

"So, I’m just asking to do the same for you," she said, with a smile.

"Ha ha. No."

"Fine," she said. "You know what, on second thought, I’m not really up for dinner. Another time," she said, going into her bedroom.

"Come on, Lise. That’s not fair," I pleaded, to a closed door.

 

The next few days were really unpleasant. I’d call, she wouldn’t answer. I’d leave messages. None of them would be returned. This killed me. Lisa and I had been best friends since the second week of college. I just couldn’t do this for her, and it hurt me that she would shut down over this.

I was sitting at home watching TV one night, when the phone rang. The caller i.d. showed Lisa’s name. "Lise?" I answered anxiously.

"Brian, it’s Jim." Oh shit, I thought.

"Uh, hi, Jim...how’s Lisa doing? She hasn’t returned my calls."

"That’s what this is about. Why don’t you meet me in the lobby in ten minutes? We’ll go get a drink."

This was not good. While Jim and I weren’t sworn enemies, we weren’t exactly friends. I understood why. He was homophobic, and always seemed uncomfortable around me. Lisa loved him and, since I wanted us all to be OK around each other, I learned about sports to try and make peace with him. As a result, he and I had that superficial bond that all guys (OK, all straight guys) had with each other. But, it wasn’t like he invited me out with his friends to watch a game. Not that I expected it - "Hey, guys, this is Lisa’s faggot, Brian."

"Uh, OK, ten minutes it is." He responded by hanging up the phone.

I came downstairs to find Jim waiting. "Hey, Jim."

"Let’s go," he said, with a scowl. We began walking towards Second Avenue. "You know, she’s really upset about this."

"I know, but I just can’t do it."

"She would do anything for you, right?"

"Yes, but..."

"When your mom died, who took a week’s vacation to stay with you?"

"I..."

"I mean, that fucked up my plans too, you know."

"Sorry?"

"And when you came out and your old man went apeshit on you, who had your back?"

I stared at the ground.

"Look, Brian, she’s gone all out for you, and you can’t even do this. I’d have figured you’d be into it."

"I’m gay, not a drag queen. We don’t all get off on dressing like women."

"Whatever. Anyway, this is killing her..."

"I have a lot of issues with this, Jim."

"Like?"

"Number 1, like I told Lisa, I can’t imagine too many of your friends signing up to be part of a male couple, and all in all I’d rather not end up a splotch on the aisle."

"Who says they’ll know?"

"What?"

"Remember, last summer, when you and Lise were going out to her mom’s pool and my friend Dave and I were heading to the Yankee game?"

"Not really, but OK?"

"Anyway, you guys left. And Dave turns to me and says, ‘Who’s Lisa’s friend? She doesn’t have much up top, but she’s cute and has great legs."

"Uh huh. Isn’t Dave the one you say has an IQ of 40?"

"Yeah," he laughed, in what seemed like an eternity. "Nonetheless, he’s still a guy and he knows what a girl looks like."

"Apparently not."

"My point is, no one’ll know."

"Suppose someone finds out. The guy who gets stuck with me will beat me to a pulp."

"I’ll take care of it," he said, with a half smile.

"What does that mean?"

"It means I’ll take care of it, don’t worry."

"So, you are cool with me, a guy, being a bridesmaid? Wearing the dress and everything?"

"It’s fucked up."

"So, why are you pushing me then?"

"Because," he said, stopping to light a cigarette. "Lisa wants you to do this. You’re her best friend. If she wants this, I can deal..."

"OK," I said, "I still don’t think I can pull it off."

He snickered. "You need to get your mirror fixed."

"Thanks, just for that, I’m telling Lisa about that cigarette."

He scowled at me, then laughed. "You want to end up a splotch, you’ll tell her. You all stick together, don’t you?"

"Ha ha," I said. "Just for that, if, and I mean if, I do this, you’re dancing with me at the wedding. I’m gonna get the band to announce how you wanted to, and everything."

He raised an eyebrow. "Tell you what, butt pirate, I’ll make you a deal."

"I’m listening."

"The wedding’s in June. If your Mets have a better record than the Yankees, which as we all know is not going to happen past maybe the second game, I’ll dance with you."

"And, if that overpaid bunch of machines you call a team is better?"

"You and Lisa wait hand and foot for me and my friends at our July 4th party. In French maid uniforms."

I laughed, "You know what, you sick fuck? I think you’re the one who wants me in the dress, not Lisa."

He laughed, and pushed me. "Sorry Brian. I know you’ve wanted me for years, but I like my women to be, well, women."

"You know Jim," I said, with a smile. "Marriage is about compromises. Nobody’s perfect. You have to overlook certain things..."

"Yeah, yeah. That’s enough of this."

"So you’re OK with me doing this...if I decide to, of course." I added quickly.

He rolled his eyes. "Like I had a choice. Like YOU had a choice," he said, with a grin. "You knew how this was going to end up, didn’t you?"

"Shut up. I hate when she does this."

"You’re her friend. Try marrying it."

"Hey, you chose it. You know what, Jim, I have something I need to take care of. Raincheck on the drink?"

"Sure," he said. "Make her apologize, at least, for freezing you out."

Half an hour later, I knocked on Lisa’s door.

"What?" she said, staring at me.

"Let’s talk about this," I said, handing her stack of bridal magazines.

"What are these?"

"Bridal magazines. I’ve taken the liberty of folding down pages of some of the dresses I like. If I decide to do this, of course."

She gave me a big hug and kiss. "Thank you, Bri. I love you. You’re the best."

"I’m serious, Lisa. I don’t think I can pull this off..."

"That’s fair, Bri. I’ll make you a deal."

"What?" I said, as my eyes narrowed.

"You let me make you up and if, after we’re finished, you don’t feel comfortable, it’s done. No questions asked. Deal?"

"Fine," I said, suddenly feeling nauseous.

"OK," she said brightly. "Let’s get to it. Sit down."

I slumped into a chair. "This isn’t going to work."

"Shhh," she said. "We have a deal. Just relax and enjoy it."

"If I had a dollar for every time I heard that..."

"Skank," she said, laughing.

"I wish."

With that, she began applying lipsticks and eyeliners and all sorts of things to my face. "You know," she said. "You’re going to have to do this yourself soon. I won’t be able to do this everyday."

"I won’t have to learn anything, Lise."

"We’ll see."

After what seemed to be an eternity, she said "Voila. Turn around."

I looked into the mirror, and my jaw dropped at my reflection. If I do say so myself, I was one attractive, if not downright gorgeous, babe.

"Well?"

"Uh..."

"I’m right, aren’t I?"

"Uh...maybe."

She jumped up and down, squealing, "This is going to be sooo much fun."

"Oh, yeah. OK, the face is there. The body’s still a guy’s, though. A little short up top."

"That is why, I took the liberty of ordering a few things. Strip!"

"What?!"

"Strip naked."

"Excuse me."

"I need to check some things."

"Like?"

"Your measurements."

"Ooh, look at you, Laura Ingalls Wilder. Are you going to make the dresses?"

"Ha ha, Bri. We need to see where you are, so we can know where you’ll be by the wedding. So strip already."

"Turn around," I said, blushing.

"Please," she said. "It’s just us girls here."

"Turn around."

She rolled her eyes. "Do you do this with dates? That would explain your dry spell."

"For someone who wants me to do something, you have an interest way about you," I said, taking off my clothes. "I’m done."

Lisa took out a tape measure. "Chest - 36". Like I thought."

"Why were you thinking about my chest?"

She ignored me. "Waist 28". Hips 31." We’ll need you at 24" by the wedding. Wait here."

"Like I’m going somehwere."

She went into her bedroom, and came out with a bag. She opened it, and pulled out two flesh colored blobs.

"What are these?"

"Breast forms. C cup."

"Excuse me?"

"You yourself said you were short up top," she said, applying something to them. She went behind me and started pressing them to my chest. "Oooh baby," she said, as she went behind me and started fondling my "breasts."

I slapped her hand away playfully. "I am sorry, Lisa. But I don’t do girl-on-girl. Strictly men, thank you. Wait a minute...what did you just do?"

"I glued your breasts on. Let you get used to them."

"What the hell am I supposed to do? I have work, you know."

"Please," she said, taking something else from the bag.. "You’re a computer consultant. You work from home. You’ve said it yourself, noone ever sees you." She pulled out a corset from the bag.

"No way. This will show through my dress."

"No, it won’t."

"How?" I said, putting it on.

"Because the wedding is six months off, and you’re going to start with it now. That and you and I are going on strict diets and workout regimens starting today," she said, tugging on the corset.

"Gack, that’s too tight." I gasped.

"I want your waist at 24 inches by the wedding. Although, maybe not. I don’t want to be overshadowed by my bridesmaids."

"Then, you shouldn’t have chosen such a babe."

"Oh, jeez, I made a mistake, didn’t I," she said, laughing. Next she pulled out a lacy black bra that clasped in the front. Again, she went behind me and began putting it on. "Mmmm, please baby. I want you," she whispered in my ear.

"I’ve told you time and again, I’m not that kind of girl."

"That is because noone ever asks."

"Bitch..."

"Now for the piece de resistance," she said pulling out a strange contraption.

"What the hell is that?"

"A gaff, I think they call it."

"What is a gaff?"

"Prevents those unsightly bulges..."

"Excuse me."

"Tucks little Brian up to give you a flat front."

"What is up with you?"

"I researched all of this before I asked you."

"Thorough, aren’t we?"

"Yes, sweet cheeks. Put in on."

After I did, she took out a garment bag. "Now, for the piece de resistance," she said, unzipping it. "What every girl needs. The little black dress," she announced, pulling out what was, in fact, a very short black dress.

I put it on, and it came to about 4" above my knee.

"Look at yourself," she said, pointing to her full length mirror. "Tell me that anyone will think you are anything but a hot babe. In fact, I may need to keep Jim away from you."

"Alas, he is taken," I said, laughing. "You’re right, though," and I began to cry.

She sat me on the bed. "What’s wrong, sweetie?"

"This is a little too off-putting for me, Lise. I mean, I’ve heard the cracks my whole life. And this just proves them all right," I said through sobs.

"Fuck them, Brian. Fuck the homophobes. Just relax and go with the flow. You are who you are. And who you are is the best person I know."

"Thank you," I said, sniffling. "You’re the best."

"No, you are. Thank you for doing this. I apologize for freezing you out the past few days."

"It’s OK. You were hurting."

"Still...what made you come over here with the bridal magazines?"

"Jim."

"Excuse me?"

"He called me, and we went for a walk..."

"And?"

"He called me out on this. Told me what a good friend you were, and how I should do this for you."

"Wow."

"You’re lucky Lise. Most guys wouldn’t be OK with this."

"I know. I’m not going to tell him that though. Have to keep the upper hand."

"Oh, one thing, though..."

"What?"

"You better hope the Mets have a better record than the Yankees come the wedding."

"Why?" she said, staring at me.

"Uh, Jim and I kind of made a bet."

"Which was..."

"If the Mets are doing better, he dances with me at the wedding. Complete with announcement from the band and everything..."

"Oh god," she said, bracing herself. "I can only imagine what happens if they’re worse..."

"Uh, youandIhavetowaitonhimandhisfriendsatyour4thparty.InFrenchMaiduniforms," I said, as fast as I could.

She laughed. "He needs help. He really does. Anyway, look at you, you need a new name."

"Why?"

"How can I call you Brian? What do you want to be."

"This is still a little overwhelming."

"Well, then..." she said, pulling out her cellphone. "Hi. Mom, it’s me. I’m here with Brian. Yeah, he agreed. But we need a name. Nah, he’s still a little freaked...What? That works...please, if I tell him why, the princess will start crying again...Bye."

"What was that about?"

"How do you feel about Jessica?"

"Where did that come from?"

"My mother said you’re like a sister to me, and if she had another daughter, she would have named her Jessica and...Oh god, I told her you’d cry," she said, watching me tear up. "OK, that’s enough," she said.

"What," I said, wiping my eyes.

"Girl school is in session. First lesson, heels..."

[to be continued.]