Free Being Shirley by Michelle Vernal

the adjectives until she froze. “But what?”
    “It’s just that—”
    “It is not too tight like I told Haught—I mean Amanda here. It is NOT TOO TIGHT.”
    Carl held a hand up, well versed in his day-to-day dealings with models at calming a woman’s potential histrionics. “No, no, sweets, of course it’s not. It fits you like a glove. That’s not it at all.”
    Annie placed a hand on her hip and looked at him searchingly. “Well, what is it then?”
    “I don’t know how to say this—”
    Carl was not usually one to be lost for words or to beat around the bush. Her skin went goosy as she wondered what it was he struggled to tell her.
    “Would you just say it please—whatever it is, I can take it, I promise.” Annie lied.
    “You’re sure?”
    “Of course I am sure. Good friends can be completely honest with each other.” She lied again.
    “I’m glad because you know how much I love you but I can’t let you spend this kind of money on a dress, let alone go to the altar in good conscience, if I don’t say my piece.”
    Haughty Amanda and Annie’s breath was bated.
    “Annie, my sweet, the dress is perfection—you are perfection—but the man you are planning on marrying is not right for you. I’ve gone along with things and humoured you where Tony is concerned but seeing you now in that dress, well, I am sorry, sweetie, it’s a keeper—the fiancé is not.” He swiped his brow, oblivious of the hurt that flashed across Annie’s face as he added in a jokey tone, “There, I said it. That wasn’t so bad, Carl, now was it.” He registered the shock on her face as he looked at her and took a step towards her. Annie held her hands up as though to ward him off. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I know I should have said something before but I got swept up in this—the trying on of the dress thing. I can’t help it, though; I just love a bride.” He attempted a feeble smile. “Besides, it can’t be that much of a shock—you know how I feel about Tony.”
    That was true. He had never hidden his feelings about him from her nor had Tony made any secret of his dislike for Carl either for that matter. The feeling was mutual; there was no love lost between either of them. Still, she shook her head. “But I don’t get it. You were asking me when we were going to set the date not long ago and telling me you had a suit that needed an airing and well, everything. I was going to get you to be my best man.” She sniffed.
    “Really, me? Your best man?” Carl looked like he would like to retract his earlier statement.
    “Yes really.”
    He shifted on the balls of his feet and shoved the image of himself looking suave next to the blushing bride aside. “Oh, sweetie, I would dearly love to be your best man but not if I feel you are making a mistake. Besides which, you and I both know Tony would walk before he’d stand near me at the altar.” He ran his fingers through his fringe. “Despite these enlightened times we now live in, liberal minded Tony is not and you know what else? Now that I am being honest, I suppose I never thought that the two of you would ever get round to making it formal. I thought you’d be one of those couples who’d stay engaged until one day you’d both wake up and well—break up. Seeing you here now in that gorgeous creation,” he gestured at the dress, “well, it’s brought it home to me that you are serious and I needed to tell you how I feel.”
    “I wish you hadn’t.”
    “Oh, come on, darling, surely you don’t see yourself spending the rest of your days with Macho Man?”
    “Of course I do, otherwise I wouldn’t have gotten engaged to him.” Her bottom lip trembled. “And he is not macho—he is just a man’s man, that’s all.”
    Carl’s expression grew petulant. “Well, I owe it to Roz not to let you make a monumental mistake.” This was stated with a sanctimonious flourish that said he had made his point.
    Roz’s name was the red rag to the bull.