The Bachelorette Party by Karen McCullah Lutz

afterward. And when Zadie and Jack were still together, they’d gone camping with Denise and Jeff a couple of times and Denise could always be counted on to stay up drinking with Zadie until she passed out, which was the only way Zadie could fall asleep in the woods. Camping was Jack’s idea of fun, not hers. Zadie usually lay there staring at the roof of the tent, praying for daylight.
    But now Denise was very pregnant and, as Zadie had witnessed at the engagement party, that didn’t spell f-u-n . Pregnant women tended to talk about things like prenatal vitamins and the size of their nipples.
    And Grey’s sister, Eloise, would surely be there, which was yet another reason not to attend. Eloise was of the opinion that if Zadie and Grey were best friends, then that automatically meant that Zadie and Eloise were friends. She did not take into account that she was a deeply annoying person. Eloise was a one-upper. If you had a good time, she had a better time. If you had a terrible time, she had a worse time. Her favorite expression was “I can top that.” Someone really needed to tell Eloise that she was repellent.
    The other women would likely be Helen’s coworkers, customers, and sorority sisters. Zadie’s head was hurting already.
    To head off the tide of cheerful women she was sure to be drowned in, Zadie called Dorian, her best friend from high school and her matron of honor. Well, proposed matron of honor. “You will not believe the bachelorette party I have to attend.”
    “Can’t be any worse than yours.”
    “That was low.” Low, but accurate. Zadie and her friends had taken over one of the cabanas at Firefly and ordered a staggering amount of cocktails. Unfortunately, the male stripper Dorian had procured bought his lunch from one of the roach wagons at the construction site where he performed his day job. His burrito turned out to be rancid, and when combined with a tequila shot, it spewed out all over the table full of women. “I should have taken it as a sign.”
    “Why the hell haven’t you returned my last three phone calls?” Dorian was not one for pleasantries.
    “I’ve been busy. It’s the end of the school year.” Jesus, that was a lame excuse. Especially given that it was over a month away.
    “Bullshit. You’re avoiding me.”
    Dorian was right. Zadie had been avoiding her. And her other bridesmaids as well. At first, the groundswell of righteous indignation had been welcome. There was rampant man-bashing. Talk of castration. But after a month or so, it just got old. The fight had gone out of her. And talking to Dorian and the others only served to remind her of that. Zadie didn’t like to think of herself that way.
    “Let’s go to lunch,” Zadie said. “I’ll drive up on Saturday.” There were worse things to do on a Saturday than drive to Santa Barbara and eat a crab cocktail on the pier.
    “I can’t. Lissy has a recital.” Dorian gave birth to twins when she was twenty-six. This was perhaps another reason Zadie didn’t hang out with her as often as she should. Small children were so damn needy. “Did you hear that Olivia’s boyfriend turned out to be married?”
    “Olivia has a boyfriend?” She really needed to return phone calls more often.
    “What are you doing tonight?”
    “Nothing.”
    “Then get in your car and drive your ass up here for dinner. I can’t talk to you on the phone. You always sound like you’re watching TV on mute or something.”
    “I’m not.” Zadie was lying. Melrose Place reruns were on E! every single blessed day, how could she not watch?
    “We’re having lasagna.”
    Zadie frowned. “Did you make it, or did Dan?” Dorian was not known for her prowess in the kitchen.
    “Zadie?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Get in your fucking car.”

    By the time she got to Santa Barbara, it was getting dark. She drove up the hill and parked in Dorian’s driveway, behind the minivan. She grabbed the bottle of Chianti she bought along the way and was about