A Conversation about Spangles
“It has spangles.”
“Don’t be like this.”
“I’m not being like anything. I’m just saying. It’s…spangly.”
“Do you like it?”
“Well. It sparkles?”
“We can look for something else.”
“No. No. It’s fine. You like it.”
“I don’t like it. I was asking if you like it.”
“Yeah, but then you got mad about my answer, which means you must like it.”
“No it doesn’t –and I didn’t get mad.”
“You’re mad now.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You sound mad.”
“Look. Let’s just…look over there. What do you think about the blue one?”
“Bit dark, isn’t it?”
“Alright. What about the green?”
“The green one?”
“I’ll take that as a no, then. What takes your fancy?”
“That flowery one is nice.”
“The sleeves are awful. It looks like something Morticia Adams would wear if she suddenly let go of the black.”
“No, it doesn’t. It doesn’t have any tentacle-bits.”
“Tentacle-bits?”
“Yeah, y’know? Morticia wore that skin-tight dress that had the flared strips at the bottom? They look like tentacles.”
“I suppose. The orange one has a nice silhouette but –orange.”
“Yeah. Y’know, we should get a coffee.”
“Not yet, I want to finalise a decision on this.”
“What about a different shop?”
“We’ve already tried four.”
“There’s always more.”
“I hate shopping.”
“I know.”
“It’s just. All of these are so…boring.”
“You could try and make your own. Lots of people do it. There’s like, podcasts and stuff.”
“I hate podcasts.”
“You hate a lot of things today.”
“Mostly shopping.”
“We could get a doughnut.”
“If you’re hungry, you could just say.”
“I’m not. I just want a doughnut.”
“And a coffee?”
“Frappe.”
“I don’t want to stop. If I take a break I’ll lose the will to start again.”
“What about that one? It’s a nice shade.”
“Pink.”
“Oh, right. I know, why don’t we expand our horizons and go look outside the bridal sections?”
“Yeah, but, I don’t want to look cheap. Also, I want to the bridesmaid dresses to match. Don’t say it. I’m not buying everyone the same dress. I want a coherent theme, not a wedding where no one knows who the bride is.”
“That would be quite funny, though.”
“For you, maybe. Not me.”
“None of this is fun for you.”
“It’s not supposed to be.”
“Uh, I think getting married is supposed to be fun.”
“Clearly, you’ve never seen those Bridezilla reality shows.”
“Those are all fake. Have you ever seen that Nightmare Cat show? With the guy with the guitar? Every episode is the same. The woman’s an idiot, the man’s an arse. The cat’s insane. No one has a single original thought until Guitar Guy comes over and tells them a bunch of obvious stuff.”
“…What does that have to do with my wedding?”
“Nothing. I was talking about reality TV.”
“I like the cream, but it’s so traditional.”
“The cut-out panels are nice.”
“I like the lacework. It’s intricate without being dowdy.”
“You could try it on?”
“I suppose. What about you?”
“I’m not the one getting married. Why would I try it on?”
“I meant, are there any bridesmaid dresses you like?”
“That match?”
“That compliment.”
“What about a contrast, instead? What do you think about this one?”
“Too colourful. I mean, I like it, but I think it’s a bit too dynamic for a bridesmaid dress. That red stripe reminds me of a race car. I don’t want to be overshadowed. Does that sound vain? It does, doesn’t it?”
“Nah, it’s your wedding. Still, you like the colour though, right?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Well, I was thinking we could be strategic about this. Instead of just wandering around waiting to find the perfect dress, why don’t we start to record what sort of things you like so we can find a dress with as many of those elements as possible?”
“You want to be strategic? In seventeen years of friendship I don’t think you’ve ever planned for anything.”
“My feet hurt. I’m thirsty. I’m willing to try anything to get you to make a decision.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I’ll try on the cream one. You try the colourful one. We’ll see how they look and then go and get a coffee or something.”
“Women’s dress sizes are a joke. No way was that a fourteen.”
“I know. The silk felt weird and scratchy too.”
“That shop was a bit of a bust, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
“You don’t have to get all depressed about it. Americano?”
“Please. I’ll pay.”
“No, you won’t. You want a croissant?”
“…Brownie. Do they have your doughnuts?”
“No, I’ll get a brownie too.”
“Thanks for this. I know I’m being a pain.”
“You’re just getting into the role.”
“I don’t really want to become a hideous screeching harpy, though. Don’t.”
“Too late. That was an open goal. You can’t expect me not to take the shot.”
“Everything is just so complicated.”
“It doesn’t have to be. You could just go to the Registry Office.”
“No. The point of a wedding is all the hoopla.”
“Isn’t the point of the wedding meant to be the happily ever after?”
“I could have that without the wedding. Or Luke, frankly.”
“Why don’t you, then?”
“Because I want to get married at least once in my life. I’m nearly forty. I want my princess moment.”
“In Japan some women get wedding photoshoots done even if their single. They don’t bother with a husband or wife at all, just get the dress and the flowers and all that jazz. I mean, they also have agencies for people who want to hire fake family members to avoid dealing with their crippling loneliness in an increasingly atomised and commercialised world. So, make of that what you will.”
“Sometimes I wonder what goes on in your brain. Then I realise I’m better off not knowing.”
“Well, I’m not the one forcing myself to get married.”
“I’m not forcing myself.”
“You kind of are.”
“In what way am I forcing myself?”
“In every way. I haven’t heard you say anything positive about this whole thing, once.”
“You said it yourself. I’m getting into the spirit of the thing.”
“Kat.”
“Don’t.”
“Are you really sure about this? It’s all so fast. I’m mean, after last summer I thought you and Luke were done. Now you’re getting married. Are you sure you’re doing this for the right reason?”
“Well, if I’m not divorces are pretty easy to get.”
“Kat. That’s not funny. I’m worried about you.”
“There’s nothing to worry about.”
“Yes, there is. I wasn’t gonna say anything, but you’re miserable.”
“I want to get married.”
“Yeah, but do you want to marry Luke?”
“There’s no one else.”
“You don’t know that. You haven’t looked.”
“I’m not going to cheat on Luke four months before the wedding to test that theory.”
“Why not? He’s done it to you more than once. Sorry. That was—I shouldn’t have said that. Kat? C’mon. Say something. I’m an idiot. I’m sorry. Please. Let’s just pretend I never opened my mouth, okay?”
“I just…I want everything settled. We’ve got the mortgage –which is a nightmare to get out of -and the routine. Might as well get married. I don’t think I can find anyone else. And I want—I want to do this one normal thing for my mum, you know? I want her to see me walk down the aisle. Go on, tell me I’m being an idiot. I can see it written all over your face.”
“My face is saying nothing. I don’t think you’re an idiot.”
“You think I’m making a mistake.”
“I don’t matter. You do. If you want to marry Luke, I’ll happily walk down the aisle throwing confetti and wearing my dynamic and race car dress. You know that. I just want you to be sure this will make you happy. You’re usually sure about everything.”
“—I’m not sure about this.”
“I know.”
“You did look good in that race car dress.”
“Shame about the size. I was popping out of the seams.”
“Maybe we should get married. We’ll wear matching racing car dresses and go to Silverstone for the day.”
“As long as I get to wear a stupid flouncy hat, I’m game.”
“They don’t wear stupid hats at Silverstone. You’re thinking of horseracing.”
“Let’s do that, then. We’ll get married. Go to the races and then take a cruise. I’ve always wanted to go on one of those. Luke can be bridesmaid. He can carry our trains. It’s the least the arse could do after everything he’s put us through.”
“Us?”
“Absolutely. I’m the one you cry at when he hurts you.”
“—I suppose that’s true. Though if I was marrying you, I’d wear the spangles.”
“Wear that and I’ll jilt you.”
“That’s hardly a threat. I think Luke’s still seeing her.”
“Kat.”
“I know. It’s sort of funny. I don’t even care anymore. I just want the marriage so I can divorce him. It makes getting a settlement easier.”
“…I don’t know if that’s the most cynical thing you’ve ever said or the most practical. And that’s saying something because you are both of those things all of the time.”
“I prefer to think of it as pragmatic.”
“Well don’t. It’s depressing. And borderline insane. Don’t laugh. I wasn’t joking.”
“I know. Come on. Let’s go back to that last shop. I want to try on the spangly one.”
“Kat…”
“Relax. I’m not having a breakdown. I’m going to tell Luke we’re done tonight and …deal with the fallout as it comes. I just want to indulge my girly fantasy before I do.”
“Crap. Did you have this all planned out?”
“No. It’s your fault. You always make me see when I’m being an idiot.”
“So, you’re saying in the space of what, three hours? I ruined your wedding.”
“Congratulations. That’s a new record for you.”
“Yeah. I know. Are you sure about this?”
“Yes. Although I’ll probably cry at you about it later.”
“I’m sorry, y’know. About Luke. I mean that. I just–”
“I know Deana. It’s okay. Now, come on. I want spangles.”
If you would like to read more of my work The Innocent Have Nothing to Fear a collection of ten horror/fantasy short stories is available on Amazon.
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