Wedding Season
It only took mere seconds for the uncles, aunties, cousins, and friends to occupy the dancefloor as soon as the emcee announced it was open. The disco ball was lowered as the deejay swiftly cued up a sizzling remix of a traditional chutney tune. While it reverberated throughout the ballroom, the singer’s melodious voice—fused with the dholak, harmonium, and dhantal—prompted instant lip-syncing and hip-jerking from the energetic crowd. Victoria couldn’t blame them, but she also couldn’t fathom that in a few months, she’d marry into this same crowd. The extended family from Guyana, England, and Canada blabbed for nearly 2 hours with their sentimental speeches, plus the wedding party’s elaborate dance performance felt like an absolute tease for those desperate to roll up their waistlines, and the food…Victoria refused to discuss the food. It was a good thing Uncle Devanand—the bride’s father—reserved the hall until 3AM, she thought.
Victoria, on the other hand, found herself too intoxicated on Heineken and fixated on the small white dessert box in front of her during the program’s entirety. Despite her failed attempts to pry the box open, she was still optimistic to discover—at least by the end of the night—a thick slice of the dense rum-infused black cake topped with almond paste icing and little edible silver sugar beads.
“Bhauji!” Regina—her soon-to-be sister-in-law—called over the music. “I fed up watch you trying to open this box. Them girls used a hot glue gun for this,” she said in Creolese, pointing to the foam sticker sitting in the center of the box that sealed the detailed ribbon work. “You’ll never get it open and anyway, this is we song! We can’t dress up so nice and sit here whole night. We have to lotay, Bhauji, lotay.”
Victoria sulked. “But I just wanna eat my black cake,” she confessed, unamused at Regina’s impromptu dance as she got up from her chair.
Regina extracted the box from Victoria’s grasp and the woman herself out of her chair. “You will but after we dance. I have to sweat all this Malibu Bay Breeze out or else Bhai will catch a case with me.”
Victoria’s eyes frantically scanned the room, her eyebrows furrowed. “Where’s Ricky anyway? He said he’d be back by now…”
“You’re asking me about your fiancé?” Regina asked, securing their spot on the dancefloor. Their bodies easily fell into the rhythm of the song, earning a handful of the extended family’s attention. Regina’s eyes briefly searched for her brother in the opposite direction. “Doesn’t matter where he is. The important question is…” she started, regaining Victoria’s attention, “…who is that?”
“Who is who?”
“That greasy waistline in the dhal colored suit. Keep up, Bhauji.”
Victoria scrutinized the man with Regina—he was quite attractive and looked like he could’ve been around their age. “You was checkin’ him out all weekend and you still ain’t know who he is?” Regina shook her head and leaned in for her Bhauji to disclose the information. “That’s your Auntie Mohini’s second-cousin daughter brother-in-law from Toronto. He’s married so avert your gaze before you catch another case with your brother. Don’t ask me how I know all of this.”
Regina scoffed. “My mom told you, didn’t she?” Victoria nodded. “He didn’t look married when he was getting cozy with Cousin Shanta at the church wedding yesterday.”
Victoria’s hand flew up to her mouth, attempting to stifle her laugh. “Just be glad it wasn’t you he was after.” Regina rolled her eyes. “Listen, Dev over there is decent and single. Go dance with him in the meantime. I’m gonna go use the bathroom and find Ricky, okay?”
Regina nodded, fixed her dress, and shimmed her shoulders. “I might end up with a potential husband tonight, Bhauji.”
“Don’t get your hopes up. They’re not all that fascinating,” Victoria said before she casually slipped out of the crowd.
Victoria sauntered out the double doors—her heels clicking with every swift movement across the polished floor—and down the corridor towards the lobby, restrooms, and the other occupied ballroom. She spotted Ricky leaning against the lobby wall in his sleek teal fitted suit with his cell phone pressed against his ear. Though his back was to her and his gaze locked on the window coated in scattered drizzles, his stern, husky voice made her heart skip a beat. She figured the call had been too important and deciding not to eavesdrop or interrupt him—she’d been convinced upon their initial meeting a few months ago that his ruggedly handsome looks and charming personality were nothing more than a cover-up for the impulsive ass-hat he truly was—she tried her best to push open the bathroom door without drawing his attention.
“Vic!”
She shut her eyes in regret and turned around to see him inching his face closer to hers. She caught his vexed look when his soft, plump lips made contact with her cheek instead of her silky, red ones. “Ricardo,” she whispered as he lightly pushed her against the wall.
A smile crept onto his face. He pressed his forehead against hers. Her eyes met his and for a moment, they let the eighties reggae track echoing from the ballroom next door do all the talking for them.
“Have I told you how gorgeous you look tonight?” he asked, slipping his phone into his pocket.
“You’ve been telling me that all night, Ricky.”
“I could tell you for a lifetime.”
“Shut up,” Victoria scolded playfully, connecting her lips to his. As she pulled away, she noticed the spark in his eyes. He looked like a fool in love and she felt like a fool for leading him on.
“This entire wedding weekend got me thinking about us.”
“I hope you didn’t hurt your head.” Ricky chuckled and shook his head. “Listen, I gotta pee.”
“Oh!” he adjusted his posture. “Need any help with that dress?”
“Maybe after we’re married…but nice try.”
“See, this is why we’re a perfect match. You know a man could only try…”
“Uh-huh, whatever. Go check on Regina,” Victoria said, shooing him away.
“Fine, fine. See you inside.” He pecked her lips before disappearing down the corridor.
Victoria rushed into the bathroom. Tugging at the end of her dress, she hurriedly bent down to check if anyone occupied the stalls. Finding no one, she tossed her hair off of her shoulders and examined herself in the mirror. Ricky’s words kept replaying in her mind and the thought of calling off the wedding was eating her alive.
Suddenly, one of the stall doors creaked open and a tall, curly-haired man stuck his head out. A loud shriek escaped her lips.
“Jeez, Vicky, it’s just me. Relax,” he slurred, stumbling out of the stall.
“Andy? What the hell are you even doing in here?” Her eyes darted towards the door but sensing someone nearby, she grabbed the ends of his suit jacket and dragged him back into the stall. She locked the door before turning to him. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”
“Says the woman who’s just cornered me in a bathroom stall,” Andy retorted. Victoria sighed. “I had to come get you. You were supposed to be my plus one to my brother’s wedding, remember?”
It took a moment for her to process that the wedding party next door belonged to his family before answering. “We broke up, remember?”
“I loved you. I still love you.”
“No! Sober or drunk, you don’t get to tell me that. You need to leave now.” She went to unlock the door but Andy quickly placed his hand over hers. She shuddered at the warmth of his hand on her skin.
“You’re being unfair, Vicky,” he whined.
Victoria spun around. “I’m sorry what? I’m being unfair?” His eyes softened. She crossed her arms. “Let’s talk about unfairness, shall we? Was it fair when the man I loved left me high and dry? Was it fair that he pushed me away every single time I’d try to fight for us? He’ll never get his way and here he is…again. You’re the one who has been unfair, Andy.”
He inched closer to her, filling the gap between them. Victoria took a step back, creating another one.
“You couldn’t afford to have a dougla like me infiltrate your coolie family,” Andy whispered, his eyes brimming with tears.
“C’mon, Andy! You think I actually cared if people resented us? For God’s sake, you were going to be the only family I needed.”
“Then don’t marry Ricky. You can’t marry him.”
Victoria propped her hands on her hips. “And why is that?”
“Because,” Andy started, rubbing his hands onto his face, “I’m trying to make things right again.”
“Well, stop fucking trying.”
“No!” he yelled, officially closing the gap between them. “I love you.”
“Look at you being unfair again. You don’t get to say that, Andy,” Victoria whispered, unlocking the stall door. “I’m gonna go eat my black cake now.”
