Main Guest

The invitation arrived at the end of last week. The envelope was small, white, and satin. The card inside was the same with oily, black writing. There was a wedding in two weeks, and she was asked to be the main guest plus one. The couple-to-be were mere acquaintances, and they required her presence. But as beautiful as the invitation was, something felt wrong, terribly wrong.

Nancy sat back in her cubicle, watching coworkers pass her by. The phone rarely rang at her desk, and when it did, it wasn't for her. There were no meetings scheduled for today, and all her paperwork was done. It would be a slow day, giving her more than enough time to decide on what to do about the strange invitation from those that she hardly knew. She wanted to go, desperately needing human contact, and she hated going home to an empty apartment. But part of her demanded that she say no.

"Lost in thought?" James paused outside her cubicle. He was the only one, who gave her a moment. Everyone else just ignored her. "Anything I can help you with?"

"No." Nancy smiled. "Thanks." She stared at him for a long moment. "Actually, would you want to go to this wedding with me? I got the invite, and I could bring a guest."

"Sure." She expected him to say no. "Who's getting married?"

"You remember those clients last year, the Rivers?" He nodded. "Well, they invited me to their wedding. I shouldn't go, right? They were clients of ours."

"And if you go, they'll stay clients of ours."

"Good point." Nancy bit her lip. "It's just strange. Why me? I wasn't the only one that helped them."

"Maybe they liked you." He held her gaze. "Just tell me when and where. I have to go." She watched him walk away.

Two weeks later, Nancy found herself outside a huge, white catering hall. The garden surrounding it was breathtaking. A gentle wind rustled her red hair, and the sun lit up her eyes. The dark red dress she wore swayed over black heels, and James took her arm, wearing a black suit with a red tie. She was excited, but a knot turned and twisted in her belly. And in the back of her mind, she could hear a haunting cry, but she stepped forward, walking inside.

The music was old. 1920's. Strange, but the band was lively, pulling people to their feet. As the crowds filled the dance floor, Nancy and her plus one made their way to their table, which was right next to the kitchen doors. Dropping their belongings in their seats, James turned and held his hand out to her.

"May I have this dance?" Nancy couldn't help but laugh. "Please?" She took his hand, and he led her to the dance floor, trying to follow the beat.

"We're dancing with both left feet."

"So?" He spun her around and then toward him. "I have to ask."

"What?"

"What took you so long?"

"What do you mean?"

"Come on, Nancy. I like you. You like me. In this day and age, the guy doesn't have to ask the girl out." He pulled her closer, holding her against his chest. "I would have said yes a long time ago." Nancy blushed. "You just didn't ask." He leaned down and kissed her, and her feet nearly lifted up from the floor.

The rest of the day faded away. Nancy didn't care. As she sat at her table, watching the bride and groom now dance alone on the dance floor, she touched her lips. She would never forget that kiss, and she reached across the table, holding his hand. She smiled, and the bride and groom returned her smile.

"I have to go to the bathroom." James squeezed her hand. "I'll be right back." He moved away.

"I'll wait," but she was done waiting. Her life had wasted by until now, but now, she had found something, someone to live for. "I'll wait."

Dinner had not yet been served, but soup and salad was placed at each small, square, white table. Faint smiles and passing glances fell across where she sat, but there was hardly conversation. The music played on, and the crowds returned to the dance floor. The bride and groom vanished from sight, but Nancy focused more on the EXIT doors, awaiting James's return.

"The wine has arrived." The main cook was a heavyset man with a trimmed beard. He held a large bottle in his hands, and little, red tears dropped to the floor. He walked from table to table, filling each glass, but he ignored the table, where Nancy sat. As finished, he slipped into the kitchen, and Nancy called to him, holding her glass. But like always, she was still ignored.

"Where is he?" That knot tightened in her belly. "What's taking him so long?" Something pricked her skin. "Ow!" She rubbed the back of her neck. "What gives?"

"I'm sorry, my dear." The main cook now stood behind her. "Did you want some wine?"

"Yeah." She started to feel dizzy. "Plzzzz."

"I'm sorry. What was that?"

Nancy fell out of her chair and into his arms. The ceiling spun around and around, chasing the music. Her feet tingled, itching to dance. Her lips went dry, and her throat was sore. She tried to talk, but his grip tightened on her arms, pulling her away.

"Easy. Easy," the main cook said to her. He turned toward the other guests. "Okay, ladies and gentleman." The room grew darker. "Dinner is served."