Dallas, Texas
Congratulations Marci!
Marci's Bio:
Marci Mangham has enjoyed writing fiction since penning her first tome at age eleven (she hopes she has improved since that time.) Marci wrote an unpublished novel in 1994. She is publishing her first short story collection later this year, and is working on a novel based on one of her short stories. She lives in Dallas, Texas, with her dog Charlie, and will soon be taking on the terrifying task of going back to school after…many years out of the classroom.
The Wedding Zinger
For ten years, my childhood friend Trish had branded me with the designation “old married woman,” as if being monogamous and in love was something to be ashamed of. But I was thrilled to find out that she was getting married. I knew her well enough to realize that her indoctrination into the old married broads' club could not have come soon enough. All she ever wanted was to love and be loved - that desire that makes us all inherently human.
“Jill,” my husband Gary whined when we inevitably got lost after landing in Dallas. “You know how much I hate the big city. Why am I here again?”
“Just give me that map and stop complaining,” I said, kissing him on the cheek. “I want to get to the rehearsal dinner early so I'll have time to talk to Denny. You know, size the guy up.”
“Oh, and are you going to stand up and object if you don't like him?” Gary asked me. I just glared at him.
We arrived at the restaurant and said our hellos. I watched from behind as Denny's hand rested protectively on the small of Trish's tiny back. I thought I liked him already. They turned to greet us, and I enveloped Trish in a bear hug.
Denny, this is my dear friend, Jill. Jill, This is Denny.”
I shook his hand and looked into his dark blue eyes. Why is it always men who end up with those long lashes? He looked very familiar, but I could not place him. It was as if the years that had passed between our last meeting had changed his face just enough for the memory to elude me. I wondered if perhaps I knew him from college, but that didn't sound right. All through dinner I tried not to stare too hard. Denny appeared uncomfortable and avoided my gaze. But I had to remember.
“Jill, I did tell you that Denny went to high school at West, just five miles away from us?” Trish asked, gazing lovingly up at her fiancée.
I tried to smile as the realization walloped me like a heavyweight left hook. I excused myself to the ladies room, my weak knees barely supporting my hurried gallop. Gary followed and caught me by the elbow, his face pinched with concern. I paced back and forth in front of the restroom, wringing my hands.
“Jill, what is it? You look like you've seen a ghost. Are you feeling okay?" Gary asked me.
“It's Denny. Oh my god, this…I can't believe it, he….” I stammered.
“What is it, what about Denny?” Gary asked.
“Remember my volleyball team, the one I played on that summer?”
“Well yeah,” Gary said. “What does he have to do with your volleyball team?”
“He was on it,” I wailed. “My friend's fiancée was on my team!”
“I thought that was an all girl's team?” Gary asked me, as I gripped his shoulders.
“It was, honey. It was.”
***