Chapter 25
No Chapel in Sight
I dodge phone calls, emails, texts, instagram comments and facebook messages. I bake in my pyjamas, call caterers, cancel venues, issue apology notes to the hundreds – hundreds – of guests that have made travel plans and bought plane tickets and paid for hotel rooms. Guests I have never met, never spoken to and who have no idea why there was suddenly no wedding. What to tell them? The truth? And embarrass the entire Hale family? Unacceptable. Jonathon and Lily Hale were salt-of-the-earth types, and their friends and family did not need to hear the nitty gritty details of Jasper's sordid affair.
The reception venue is sympathetic, but with the contract already signed and bill already paid, they're not willing to issue a refund. I cringe at the amount of money going to waste – especially considering it wasn't mine – so I ask to speak with the venue's wedding coordinator, Trisha, who I had met with numerous times to discuss how the reception would be organized and decorated. They can't refund me, so instead of canceling it, I finagle a suitable agreement – some happy couple were going to get a very pleasant surprise. We agree that the reception house has been paid for for the entire day, so the next couple who came looking for it would get it for free.
It isn't an easy agreement to get out of them, so I shamelessly name drop the Hale name – Jonathon alone had brought the venue thousands since we had booked it. His law firm had used the firm in the past, and likely would again – provided this agreement could go smoothly.
Trisha was very accommodating.
Since the lake-view guest house was beautiful, and grand, and altogether a perfect reception venue, I had overlooked the fact that they didn't have a chef on hand. External caterers had been hired and paid for – and they too were reluctant to part with their money. They had already paid out to their suppliers for the food, so they would be at a loss. From working in the bakery, I understood their position. So I finagled another agreement – the food would be cooked and distributed to the local homeless shelters. Salmon, beef, vegetarian options – even the soup and salad courses would be donated at no additional cost.
The flowers were simpler – the florist is owned and operated by one woman (appropriately named Daisy), who upon hearing my tale of woe, promises to refund the cost of the flowers for the church and the venue. She has already spent some of the money on samples – my bridal bouquet, and the bridesmaids' flowers had already been mocked up and approved, so she is keeping the deposit to cover those costs. A fair compromise.
The priest is unhappy – relationships are built, there is no obstacle that cannot be overcome, yada yada yada. Pre-cana classes had gone well so far, so Father Miller wants us to utilise our 'conflict resolution skills'. I nip that in the bud with vicious efficiency – adultery and infidelity are frowned upon by the church. I make it clear how unwilling I am to compromise on this issue. I'm not sure if anyone has hung up on a priest before, but I do it nonetheless. He's not my priest, I tell myself. I am not even a little sorry.
I call my dad, then, and keep it brief. I ask him to let Jonathon and Lily know that everything was off – even though I was certain that Jasper or Rose or even Angela had spread the word. Charlie is furious, and upset on my behalf. Half blaming himself, and half planning on killing Jasper, Charlie wants me to come home, at least until senior year starts. Glancing around Angela's spare room, I am tempted. But Forks is full of reminders of Jasper, and I need to be reminded of him like I need a hole in my head.
Angela isn't home when I do all this. She is at my place, packing my things with Rose. I haven't spoken to her, not yet. It's only been two days – half of which I spent sobbing and crying and vomiting. As much as I need my best friend, I don't need the Rose that is Jasper's sister. It's not fair, I think, that I can't look at Rose without being reminded of Jasper, but that's the way it is.
After Charlie ends the call, I plop down on the bed and cry. Again. Nothing like cancelling your wedding to clear out the tear ducts.
I have over forty missed calls; twenty-eight are from Jasper alone, the rest from Rose, and mom, and even Lily Hale. Alice's name is there only once.
I stare at the ceiling for over an hour before Angela arrives back at her apartment, lugging a brown cardboard box labelled 'clothes'. She politely ignores my red-ringed eyes and dumps the box on the couch. There's three more boxes in the hallway – Rose had roped Emmett into helping deliver them. He hadn't stayed to see me though, probably knowing that seeing guests isn't high on my to-do list today.
Angela insists that I stay with her, and I am a little too emotional to fight her on it. She's staying through the summer and wasn't planning on returning to Forks until closer to the wedding. Now, she is staying until the school term begins again. I decide, as I place my toothbrush beside hers above the cracked bathroom sink, that I will stay too. At least for a little while. I can keep my job over the summer – the bakery was doing better than ever – and try to block out all things Jasper Hale. I'll pay her rent to sleep in the box sized spare room – which is currently just a dumping ground for Angela's stuff, because the rest of her apartment is open plan and minimalistic. 'Out of sight, out of mind' is her motto.
Four hours of unpacking, a little more crying and great deal of Chinese food later, and I am mostly unpacked. Most of the stuff that was already in residence that was taking up space in the room has been shoved under our beds, or tossed up on top of the wardrobe. There's not enough room to swing a cat, but it's all I need.
By the time I crawl into bed, freshly showered and redder-eyed than ever, I have ignored four more calls from Jasper, sent an apology text to Rose (after ignoring two calls from her) and have unsubscribed from Pinterest because I keep getting alerts that people have liked my wedding boards.
I look like shit; pale, gaunt, puffy eyed and pained, I resent that they've done this to me. I resent the duplicitous nature of their affair, the cowardice Jasper and Alice both displayed, and the fact that I had invested so much of myself in a massive lie.
Gritting my teeth and shoving my head into the down pillow Angela had thoughtfully provided me, I decide that the thing I resent most of all is that I had nowhere to hang my wedding dress other than on the hook on the wall, directly opposite the bed. It's the last thing I see before I close my eyes at night, and this first thing I see in the morning. That won't last long, I think. I definitely have to do something with the dress. There's no chapel in sight for me, so it won't be needed.
What am I supposed to do with a wedding dress I am probably never going to wear, I wonder?