Long, Long Time
5:58 AM - 9:49 AM
Weddings. The romance, the magic, the fairy tale. I hate weddings. The God-ugly dresses, the overly sweet cake, the drunk uncle trying to feel up one of the bridesmaids. Just no. But here I am on the plane from big city life in Tampa to suburban death trap that I call home, Unionville, Ontario, going to my kid sister's wedding.
Whatever.
At least I'm in first class and all it took was a smooth smile and a few polite words to get more of those mini vodka bottles from the stewardess. Thank God, I was alone in first class. No surprise that people weren't clambering for seats on the early morning flight to Unionville. Lord knows there won't be an open bar tonight, especially after the Uncle Jimmy incident. That was traumatizing enough for me not to want to make the trip up.
“But Mom, I can't just fly up for a night. I have a game on Sunday.”
“Steven.” She used her Mom-voice, “Steven, it's Sarah's wedding. Your baby sister. I don't care if you're playing a game that day, you're coming here.”
“End of story.”
“End of story. Besides, Charlotte will be there.”
Charlotte Caine. I chugged one of the mini-bottles of Smirnoff, relishing the burn.
Carly. And another bottle.
Mom knew exactly what to say to make me come.
“Carly,” I let her name roll off my tongue, stroking syllables, caressing it, making me realize how much I really did miss her. Missed her strawberry blonde hair, her sapphire blue eyes, her plump lips. Her honeyed voice, her soft body, her companionship. There goes another bottle.
Carly Caine.
I took the last bottle and raise it before me in a toast, “To Carly Cane. The coldest bitch I've ever known,” and chugged the rest of it down.
With a pleasant buzz and the sour taste in my mouth that the thought of Carly left gone, I slipped on my head phones and let the beats of Cro surround me.
Whatever.
At least I'm in first class and all it took was a smooth smile and a few polite words to get more of those mini vodka bottles from the stewardess. Thank God, I was alone in first class. No surprise that people weren't clambering for seats on the early morning flight to Unionville. Lord knows there won't be an open bar tonight, especially after the Uncle Jimmy incident. That was traumatizing enough for me not to want to make the trip up.
“But Mom, I can't just fly up for a night. I have a game on Sunday.”
“Steven.” She used her Mom-voice, “Steven, it's Sarah's wedding. Your baby sister. I don't care if you're playing a game that day, you're coming here.”
“End of story.”
“End of story. Besides, Charlotte will be there.”
Charlotte Caine. I chugged one of the mini-bottles of Smirnoff, relishing the burn.
Carly. And another bottle.
Mom knew exactly what to say to make me come.
“Carly,” I let her name roll off my tongue, stroking syllables, caressing it, making me realize how much I really did miss her. Missed her strawberry blonde hair, her sapphire blue eyes, her plump lips. Her honeyed voice, her soft body, her companionship. There goes another bottle.
Carly Caine.
I took the last bottle and raise it before me in a toast, “To Carly Cane. The coldest bitch I've ever known,” and chugged the rest of it down.
With a pleasant buzz and the sour taste in my mouth that the thought of Carly left gone, I slipped on my head phones and let the beats of Cro surround me.
♠ ♠ ♠
So my concept is that each chapter will be in hours that Steve spends at his sister's wedding. I don't think it'll be that long and I think I can whip it out fast.