Forget Me Not by Julie Soto

28

Ama

THE WEDDING

The officiant is there. The first guests—assholes—have arrived twenty minutes early. Mar says the brides are on schedule, but Jackie keeps crying through her makeup. I’m two seconds away from calling her when Vince calls me back.

“We’re here,” he grumbles.

“Great. Can I speak to the driver of the bridal carriage, please?”

I get across to the driver the approximate time I’ll need him arriving and how I’ll cue him.

Bea keeps calling and I keep ignoring. She leaves one voicemail, and I glance at the text of it.

I’m just offering my support. I know you probably think we’re—we’re trying to film a good story, but if you need an extra hand, it will be off the record. I really care about this wedding.

I chew on my lip, trying to decide what to do with that.

As I’m staring at my phone, I get a notification from Instagram. Hazel Renee is going live. I click on it and see her gorgeous face.

“So today’s my wedding day,” she squeals. “I can’t show you our wedding clothes, but just know that we are straight fire today. I’m really excited, and I know Jackie is too. Everything’s …” She looks around the empty room she’s in. I recognize it as the upstairs of the Airbnb. “Everything’s really good, but no one can find our wedding planner.” She laughs.

My stomach drops. My lips part.

“It’s so weird. But I guess she’s busy, or whatever.”

I can’t breathe. My tongue is dry. I can’t believe she just … told her millions of followers that I’m MIA on the day of her wedding. The followers who she has been promoting me to for months now.

I close Instagram and stare at the wall. My phone rings, and I’m hoping it’s Elliot.

Whitney Harrison calling …

I feel like a child when I hit the green button quickly. “Hi.”

“Ama? I just saw something strange on Instagram—”

“Yeah. I saw it too. I’m … I’m at the hospital.”

“Oh, Ama. Ama, this is your big day! That can’t happen!”

I swallow thickly. She’s saying everything I’ve been thinking. “I’m—I’m on my way over to the venue. Just as soon as I get an X-ray.”

“Ama,” she says quietly, as if moving into a different room. “If it’s just a broken bone, then I don’t see what the fuss is about. Get a sling, get a crutch, whatever. Why are you at the hospital for an X-ray?”

“I—I know. I’m—”

“Do you need me at the Rose Garden? I can go there right now and take care of this.”

I blink. My throat is tight. “Don’t you have like, four weddings today?”

“Mm, I have one, later this evening. Remember when I showed you my calendar? Nothing today.”

My eyes press closed as tears leak out of them. I want to scream. I want to ask her why she sabotaged me. But I also want to ask her to go to the Rose Garden. Because Jackie and Hazel need a wedding planner.

There’s a beep, and I look at my phone. Elliot is calling. I remember the look on his face when I suggested Whitney, how adamant he’s always been about the ways she used me. I tell myself I don’t need her. I have him.

“Whitney, I have to go. Thanks for the offer, but we have it under control.”

I end her call, and take Elliot’s.

“I’m here,” he says. “I’m going to fix the arch, then you tell me what to do about programs.”

“Okay.”

I listen to him moving around, the slam of his truck door, the sounds of the park. The … squawking?

“Ama, we’ve got geese.”

“Damn it. Put Jake on it.”

It’s only five minutes later when Elliot announces that the wedding arch is fixed. I have an eye on my watch the whole time. We’re cutting it too close. I tell him how to lay down the wedding programs—“At an angle, Elliot”—and he grumbles his agreement, but I have a sneaking suspicion that those programs are being laid down however Elliot can do it quickest.

I hear someone call his name through the phone and say, “Where’s Ama? What’s going on?” It’s Bea.

“Everything is fine. She’s dealing with something, but we have it under control,” Elliot responds crisply.

“Okay. Can we get a crew over to her? Whatever is going on, we can help or at least include it in the program—”

“Nope.”

“Alright,” Bea says, “I know my contract isn’t with you, it’s with Ama, but we need to be filming the ups and the downs of this day.”

“I don’t really give a fuck what you film,” Elliot says. “My first priority is to this wedding. Then my second is the flowers for this wedding.”

“Alright, Mr. Bloom—”

“You wanna know where you and your cameras fall on the list? Wayyy down, lady. Maybe twentieth. Twenty-first if there’s a flower girl in this wedding.”

I snort, listening to him. “You lack finesse, Mr. Bloom,” I say.

I hear him huffing, and I assume he’s walking quickly away from Bea. “I’m headed to the Airbnb now.”

“Okay, confirm with Mar that she feels good about the reception hall.”

“Will do.”

It’s strange listening to him do normal things, having him in my ear while he’s walking or grumbling about traffic. It’s intimate, and it’s something I miss in a way, even though I never fully had it.

“Ama, we got cops.”

I blink at the man sitting across from me, holding a bloody towel to his elbow. “Um, okay. Let’s see what’s up.”

“Officer,” Elliot says, “I’m Elliot Bloom. I’m temporarily in charge of this event. Can I help you?”

“Mr. Bloom,” says a gruff voice. “You have permits for this street closure?”

I gasp and clutch my fanny pack—where the permits are safely tucked. “Fuck.”

“We do,” Elliot says smoothly. “I can get those for you in a moment. Can I ask if there’s a problem, or if you’re just checking on us?”

“We had notice of H Street being closed, but not McKinley Boulevard. Could be a miscommunication, but I’d like to see the permits.”

“Of course. I’m on the phone with the event coordinator now. I’ll clarify. Ama?”

My head is dropped in my hands when I mumble, “They’re with me. In my pack.”

“Officer, our coordinator does have them. She’ll be over shortly,” he lies. “I’m just headed to our rental here—”

“Sorry, Mr. Bloom. I need to see that permit or else I’ll need you to clear off of McKinley.”

“What about a picture of the permit?”

The officer must say no, because then Elliot says, “Ama, hold please.”

The line goes dead. I pull the phone back to see if he hung up on me, but the call is still going. Did he mute himself? Is he doing a back alley deal with the cops of Sacramento? Does he not want me to hear his mafia connections?

In the silence, a nurse calls my name. I wave my hand and yell out for her. She sees that I’m unable to walk to the counter and comes out to me.

“Hun, we’re gonna get you into an exam room.”

“Perfect! Thank you. I’m—I’m actually on an important call. I’m running a wedding from this ER. Can I be on my phone?”

“A wedding?” Her brows jump up. “You got yourself run over by the newlywed car or something?”

“That would be less embarrassing, but essentially.” I grin.

She wheels me out of the lobby and down the hall. “You can keep your phone, but when the doctor comes in, I’ll ask you to please hang up so she can examine you.”

I check my phone and see Elliot still has me on hold. Then suddenly I hear a tinny sound. “Hello? Elliot?”

“Who am I speaking with?” says a female voice.

Before I can stutter a response, I hear a new male voice. “This is Officer Bell of the Sacramento Police Department.”

“Officer Bell,” the woman says, “good afternoon. This is Senator Laura Gilbert with the state senate.”

I clap a hand over my mouth. When the nurse sees my eyes bug out, she mouths, “Bride running?”

I shake my head and listen to Laura, not knowing if she’s aware I’m on the line.

“Officer, I hear there’s a permit issue. I know you’re doing exactly what you need to be doing. I appreciate your work. I just want to know what I can do to help this process.”

Officer Bell clears his throat. “Ah, Senator. Well, we need to see the permit for closing off this street. It’s not on our records.”

“Can we send you a photograph of the permit?”

“Uh, sorry, Senator—”

“I can get the city manager on the line and confirm that it’s in the system. Would that work?”

“It’s—it’s Saturday, ma’am.”

“Please call me Senator Gilbert. Would you like me to call the city manager so you can speak directly to him? Or I can call Chief Adams of the Sacramento PD to clarify. I have both of their numbers.”

I feel like I can just imagine Officer Bell scratching his stubble. “I … No, Senator. There’s no problem. I will contact Chief Adams myself and ask him to double-check his records for today.”

“That’s wonderful, Officer Bell. I’m glad to hear it.” Laura hangs up.

The nurse gives me a wave to say the doctor will be in soon. I send her a thumbs-up.

Elliot’s voice comes back on the line. “Ama? Still there?”

“You had to call your moooom,” I sing-song.

“You forgot your permits,” he mimics back. “I’m at the Airbnb. Is it unlocked?”

“Should be.”

I hear him knock and then open the door. There’s a flurry of activity on his side. People are asking for me, the bouquets, a Valium.

“Where’s Hazel?” Elliot asks.

I hear him cutting through the crowd of people and heading upstairs. He knocks on a door.

“Hazel? Ama is on the phone, checking in.”

“Oh my god, where is she?” I hear Hazel say. Is that annoyance I hear tinged in her tone?

“She’s dealing with an issue and delegating to keep us on schedule.”

“What’s the issue?”

“Don’t tell her,” I say to him. I’m seriously mortified that I’ve already jeopardized this wedding so much by not reading the email from Kim Nguyen, by trying to lift a bathtub myself, by not having enough assistants. This day is about the couple, and I’ve made it about me so much already. And I don’t want her followers to know this too.

“Last-minute issues. She told me to come to you first because she knows she’s been neglecting you.”

“I mean,” she starts, then pauses. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just wish I knew what was going on.”

I coach Elliot to tell her “You’re getting married today.” He repeats after me. “That’s what’s going on. And smile at her.”

“That’s what’s going on,” he repeats. “And smil—”

“Not her! You smile!”

“And smiling … will be had by all,” he finishes lamely.

I hear Hazel say, “O-kay.”

“Ama is available by phone if needed,” he says, and then I hear the door shut. “Where’s Jackie?” he asks someone in the hall.

“Last door!”

Another knock. Another door opens.

“Elliot! What’s going on? Is it time for the bouquets already?” There’s a hysterical quality to her voice that spikes my blood pressure.

“Wow. Jackie. You look amazing,” he says, and I can almost see it myself.

“Thanks. I’m just … God, Elliot. Where the fuck is Ama?!”

“Tell her. Tell her and not Hazel,” I say.

He coughs. “Ama injured herself.” Jackie gasps. “She’s at the hospital getting checked now.”

There’s a whine and a sniffle, and I close my eyes as I realize Jackie is starting to cry through her makeup again. I’m praying for the Hazel Renee setting spray to work its miracles.

“Hey, hey. She’s fine.” There are sounds of Elliot getting closer. “Jackie, we’ve got this under control. You’re getting married.”

“Mm-hmm,” she says, voice tight like a reed. “I just … Today’s been really stressful. And Hazel didn’t want us to see each other beforehand, even though I asked her if we could please—” She chokes a sob. “I don’t want to sound ungrateful for everything you and Ama have created for today, but this doesn’t even feel like my wedding anymore.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Damn it.”

“I can see that,” Elliot sympathizes. “That’s really hard.”

“And she’s—she’s doing Instagram videos instead of sitting in here holding my hand. And I’m just … I just keep thinking that … What if this isn’t right? What if I stop loving her one day?”

“Put me on,” I say. “Give her the Bluetooth.”

I hear Elliot tap the device, like a sonic boom in my ear. “Jackie,” he says softly.

“Elliot, give me to her.”

I hear the Bluetooth get tapped again, and I think he’s trying to hang up on me, or mute me. But I can still hear Jackie sniffing.

“That’s not how it works,” he says. “There is no falling out of love for people like you and me.”

I hold my breath. My skin buzzes.

“I see how you are with Hazel,” he says. “Trust me, I know that when you’re in love with a person who’s that dedicated to their career, sometimes you don’t feel like you come first.”

My eyes press closed, and I stay deathly quiet, begging him to continue.

“Sometimes you just count down the days, the hours, until you can be useful again,” he says. “And if it ever ends, Jackie?” He lowers his voice. “You’re still counting away. The months since. The exact days since. Like a tally of moments you’ve spent not being important to them. But don’t ever think you’ll wake up and not be in love with her.”

I need air. My lungs won’t work, and I can’t hear anything aside from Elliot and my heartbeat.

Suddenly, there’s a knock on the exam room door and the doctor steps in. I throw my hand up like a man drowning and wave at her to be quiet. She squints at me in confusion, and I point to my phone, mouthing “I’m sorry.”

“God,” Jackie says. “Elliot, I shouldn’t have pushed you to date Ama. I didn’t know you were still in love with Kate.”

I feel like an antique tub has fallen on my stomach this time. Kate. The girl after. Is it possible he’s not talking about me?

He clears his throat. “It’s … I just wanted you to know that you won’t fall out of love,” he says. “It’s been years, and I can still tell you the number of days since she last needed me. Since I last held her through the night.”

I suck in a breath. It is me. I hang up, hearing everything I needed to. I look up to the doctor with wet eyes and say, “Sorry, I’m … a wedding planner and I’m here instead of the wedding.”

The doctor is an older woman with kind eyes. “Aw. Did you just hear the vows?”

I bite my lip and nod.