Unexpected Guest

Content warning: verbal transphobia

Maybe a few years ago I would have jumped at the thought of attending a wedding, but now? I could already picture how out of place I’d be. I’d always been the awkward kid, and now things were about to be so much worse.

“You look pretty,” Nina said as I finished my make-up.

“Thanks. So do you.”

Nina ran a hand through my hair before starting to braid it. I would have done it myself, but I was still getting used to the length.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked.

I sighed and stared at my reflection. “I don’t really have a choice. I threw out all my old clothes.”

“You don’t have to go, you know.”

I kind of did, though. Mum needed someone next to her at all times and Nina was too much of a social butterfly to keep an eye on her.

Nina finished off the hairdo with a blue ribbon that matched the colour of my dress. I took one last look in the crappy hotel mirror, then followed my sister into the hall.

Nina and I found our mother by the elevator. She was hiding behind a plant, her social anxiety already in effect. Nina took her hand and led her to the front doors so we could call a cab to the venue.

The moment we stepped through the double doors into the banquet hall, Nina branched off to catch up with our cousins. Mum clung to my arm, her teeth chattering as her eyes darted across the room.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Too many people. Should have stayed home. I have episodes to watch.”

A laugh escaped through my nose; at least I wasn’t the only one having regrets.

“Why don’t we find a place to sit?” I suggested, gesturing to the rows of chairs facing a tacky balloon arch where Melissa and Robert would say their vows.

“As long as it’s near the back,” Mum said. “Wait—but then when they all turn their heads as the bride walks in they’ll see us—”

“They’re not going to notice you.”

She didn’t argue but I could tell I hadn’t convinced her. Strangely, having my mother be more terrified than me was helpful; I could focus on taking care of her rather than spiralling out of control myself.

“Are you hungry, Vera?” Mum asked as we sat down in the chairs that her brain deemed the safest. “I think they have snacks.”

I peered past her at the wall, and sure enough, they had trays of little appetizers lined out. My stomach was too uneasy to even think about eating, but I asked Mum if she wanted something, then headed off to get her a plate of finger foods and a fork.

Just meters away from the wedding cake, I scooped some ranch dressing into a paper cup, and turned to see an unfamiliar face with a cheery smile attached to it. He was piling up his own plate right next to me.

“Bride or groom?” he asked.

“Bride.” I set down the paper plate so I could rearrange what I’d gathered.

“Ah. I’m with the groom. Barely know him, though. I roomed with him in college for all of three months before dropping out.”

I nodded, toying with my necklace. I smoothed out the front of my dress. 

“So, what are you?” he asked.

“Excuse me?”

“Like, are you a sister? A friend? Cousin?”

“Oh,” I breathed. “Cousin.”

“Cool, cool. I’m Andrew, by the way.”

I shook his hand. “Vera.”

“Vera,” he repeated, like he had just tasted a decadent cake. “That’s beautiful.”

“Thanks. I picked it myself.”

My face paled. Uh, oh.

“I have to go,” I said. Dammit! Why do I always say that?

“Hey, wait—”

I didn’t turn back as I scrambled to get away from Andrew. I wove through a bunch of people who only knew me by a different name. I lost him in the crowd, but during my grand escape, I just had to bump into none other than the bride herself.

“Watch it,” she said, picking up her hoop skirt and taking a step sideways.

“Sorry, sorry.”

“Oh, my gosh,” she said, her jaw loose. She scanned me up and down. “Is that you, V–”

“Vera,” I said, my face beet red. I glanced around for Nina; where was my big sister when I needed her? “It’s Vera now.”

She scoffed. “Excuse me?”

“My name is Vera.”

“Like heck it is. Why are you in a dress?”

I squeezed the side of my arm with one hand. “Because dresses are more comfortable for me.”

“Wow. Just wow.”

I stood under her fiery gaze for a moment too long.

“Congratulations, Melissa,” I finally said before walking away, forgetting that my mother was still waiting for her snacks.

I shouldn’t have come.

I should not have come.

“Vera, wait up!”

Andrew was tailing me, and normally I’d be alarmed, but he was using the name I gave him instead of a slur, so I let him catch up.

“Why’d you run off?” he asked.

“I shouldn’t be here.”

“What do you mean?”

“I knew this was a bad idea—my deadname is on the guest list, after all—”

“Hey, slow down! Why are you freaking out?”

I was surprised he hadn’t picked up on it yet. With a sigh, I fiddled with the front of my dress. “This is a very religious wedding.”

“Yeah, and?”

“And I’m trans.”

He shrugged. “No shame in that.”

“I’m not ashamed. Really, I’m not. But people are… they can be awful. Dangerous, even. I mean, Melissa just found out and she did not react well.”

“Well, screw her.” He wiped powdered sugar off the ends of his frown. “You know what? I bet she’s just mad she’s not the prettiest girl at her own wedding.”

He doesn’t mean that, a voice in my head told me, but a few more seconds staring at Andrew’s dimples made me want to ignore the heavy thoughts.

“I should go find my mom,” I said. “She hates being left alone.”

“Can I come with?”

“If you’d like.”

We were told the ceremony would be starting soon, so everyone in the hall started choosing whom they’d be stuck with for the next half hour. Mum was sitting sideways on her chair when I found her, ignoring the person who had taken my seat. 

“I don’t want to be here,” she hissed as soon as I was within earshot.

“You know what? I don’t want to be here either,” Andrew said. “I only came for the free food. Let’s just grab some and go.”

Mum didn’t verbally respond to Andrew, but her bright red face lit up in agreement. In all honesty, I also didn’t mind the idea.

I texted Nina, who was already settled somewhere in the crowd, then Andrew, Mum, and I scurried to the food table to retrieve our plates (and to snag a couple more treats) before shuffling out the door.

“Oh, Andrew—this is my mom, by the way,” I said as we settled in on a bench near the washrooms. 

“I figured,” he said. “You two look a lot alike.”

Mum’s blush became even more potent as she covered her smile. She thanked him, then scooted closer to me to whisper in my ear, “he seems very nice.”

I offered a fork to my mom and turned my back so she could pick apart her finger sandwiches in peace. Andrew passed me a bottle of water he’d swiped, and once I’d twisted the cap off, he held up his cup of fruit punch as if giving a toast.

“To new friends,” he said. “And… social anxiety?”

I clinked my drink against his. “To new friends and social anxiety.”