Twist of Fate
Four couples expereince love, heartache and betrayal. Will they be able to withstand the obstacles and temptations that fate outs in their path.
1. Chapter 1
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The Britney Spears song that played on Rosalie’s car radio was annoying me. Although turning it off meant I would have to listen to Angela talk about her wedding plans – again. I am incredibly happy that Angela is getting married, but anyone would be irritated after spending hours upon hours listening to every detail involved with planning a wedding. It doesn’t help that my own prospects for marriage are looking bleak.
I stared out the window, watching the rain drops zig and zag down to the black rubber where the window and door met. Angela was sitting in the back seat droning on about the exact color of pink she wants our dresses to be. Salmon, rose, and carnation all looked like pink to me. I wasn’t sure what the difference was exactly. I glanced up and my eyes met Rosalie’s in the rearview mirror. She rolled her eyes and winked at me, commiserating in my boredom. I heard her sigh quietly, although I was fairly certain Angela missed it as she was debating the differences between strapless, halter, and cap sleeve gowns. Verona wasn’t close enough and of course being rush hour we were at a stand still on the 46.
“So, Angela, Jess is meeting us there right?” I asked. Secretly hoping she would stop talking about the color pink.
“That’s what she said. I still don’t know why Jess didn’t just drive to Verona with us.”
I knew exactly why Jess opted to drive herself and I wished I had thought of a good excuse to join her. The wedding planning discussions were getting old, but I couldn’t tell Angela that. So instead I lied. “She wanted to drive in since she had a few errands to run for Mike.”
Angela seemed to believe that so she just continued talking. She reached over and placed her wedding planner on her lap. It tripled in size since I last saw it. She started talking about bouquets, hers specifically. She wondered aloud if ivory dahlias would match the shade of cream she had chose for the chair covers. I sighed quietly and went back to the raindrop race on the window. After a couple of seconds my cell phone rang. Normally I’d let it go to voicemail when I was busy but I knew it was probably Jacob and I welcomed the distraction. A quick glance confirmed it was Jacob.
“Hey Bells,” he greeted using the nickname only he could get away with using. “Whatcha up to tonight? Want to grab a bite to eat? I’ll come meet you and Rosalie in Hoboken.”
I rolled my eyes, his forgetfulness astounded me. I remember telling him yesterday that Rosalie and I would be busy helping Angela with wedding details.
“We’re with the girls, wedding stuff tonight. I’ll call you later tonight if it’s not too late okay?”
“Oh, that’s right you did mention that. Hey, is Rosalie right there, can I talk to her?”
“Um, she’s driving,” I said, as Rosalie put her hand out towards me indicating she wanted to talk to him. Normally the thought of someone talking on the phone while driving made me anxious. However, given the fact that we were stuck in the middle of a traffic jam and not even moving, I figured it would be okay. “Hold on Jake, she wants to talk to you.”
I handed her the phone and strained to hear what he was saying. Jacob and Rosalie were friends but only because of me. They weren’t the type to call each other or get together if I couldn’t, so needless to say I was suspicious. I couldn’t hear what he was asking but Rosalie’s side of the conversation left much to be desired.
“Yeah I know,” she mumbled. “Ok I will tonight. Okay, okay later.” She passed me the phone letting me know he hung up.
“What was that about?” I asked, not hiding my confusion.
“Your birthday,” she stated matter-of-factly. I was actually surprised she admitted that. She knew I wasn’t crazy about celebrating birthdays.
“Oh, what about it? You’re not planning anything, are you? I told you I didn’t want to do anything.”
“We never listen to you any other year why would we listen this year?” she smiled smugly at me.
“True, well, what’s the plan then?” I asked indifferent. I knew it wouldn’t help to be angry; they would still do what they wanted.
“Dinner at Sushi Lounge then off to 14th and Hudson for dancing and drinks. Are you in Ang?” she asked, glancing towards the backseat.
“No, I can’t on Saturday. Ben and I already have plans.” Angela didn’t sound upset. She hated going to clubs and dancing almost as much as I did.
“Well then that makes me, you, Jake, Jessica, and Mike. I also invited Jasper to come along,” Rosalie told me enthusiastically.
“Why can’t we reschedule when Angela and Ben can come too. It wouldn’t be fun unless we were all there,” I suggested in hopes I could prolong this agony for another week or two.
Angela dashed my hopes, “No don’t reschedule for us, we can plan something another time as well. I wish we could come but Saturday night is the only night that the band we want for the wedding has available to meet with us. We will be able to listen to them play for an hour and I really don’t want to lose the opportunity. I’m sorry Bella.”
I didn’t even bother responding to that. I knew arguing with Rosalie about it would get me nowhere. They always got their way. I was fine with dinner; I knew that would be fun. It was the club that I wasn’t excited about. I wouldn’t call myself graceful, and neither would anyone else. Before I could continue to dwell on it Rosalie was pulling her BMW M3 into a parking spot.
Jess waved from the front of the shop and greeted us as we came closer, “Hey girls! I’ve been waiting for forty-five minutes. Was there a lot of traffic?” she said while reaching out to give us all hugs.
“Yes,” I said, hugging her back. “It was awful.”
“Sorry you had to wait Jess,” Rosalie said.
“Okay, enough chit chat. Let’s get going. We have a lot of dresses to look through and we only have an hour until they close,” Angela said anxiously.
We walked through the door of the bridal shop and were greeted immediately. The consultant was an older woman who was very pleasant. Rosalie, Jess, and I went right to the racks of dresses and began browsing. Angela spoke to the consultant and let her know all the pertinent information regarding the wedding. She had agreed to let us pick the style of dress but she had full veto power. Which, in my opinion, was just a nice way of saying she was picking the dress.
Angela looked through the designers’ books to find the right color. After she settled on French Pink for the color, our consultant, Janice, led us to the section we would be able to find dresses in our chosen color. We decided on a simple dress. It was a strapless, a-line style with darker pink sash around the waist. There was a small rhinestone flower on the sash that I found to be a bit much, but everyone else loved. For a bridesmaid dress, it was surprisingly perfect. We did not expect to find a dress that would look flattering on all of us. It made me feel a little bit better about this whole wedding fiasco. At least I would look nice.
We decided to skip dinner and head home. Angela was going to ride back with Rosalie and I to Hoboken then take a train into Manhattan. I wasn’t looking forward to another thirty minutes of wedding conversation. Jessica must have realized this and decided to offer Angela a ride home.
“Angela, why don’t you ride into Manhattan with me? I’m already going that way. There is no need for Rosalie and Bella to make the trip in just to turn right back around,” Jess asked.
“That would be great. I hate taking the train at night. I always have to wait so long after seven o’clock. Rosalie, you don’t mind do you?”
“Not at all. Why would I? This is easier for everyone,” Rosalie said.
After we said our goodbyes and made promises to talk soon we all got into our vehicles. Rosalie and I drove most of the way in silence, letting the soothing jazz music fill the car. It had been a long day, Tuesdays always were. Department meeting in the morning, then four out of six periods of Sophomore classes, a lunch duty, and then the literary magazine meeting after school. I did not get home until 4:30pm and only had thirty minutes to relax before the shopping trip with the girls.
I was exhausted and relished the need for silence. Rosalie understood this, and didn’t feel the need to fill the silence with pointless conversation. The two of us could peacefully sit in the car, not speaking, and still feel comfortable.
I would consider Rosalie to be my best friend, although that was not always the case. I had known her since grade school, but a friendship never really blossomed until a few years ago. We got to know each other again through her brother Jasper, who also teaches at Hoboken High School. He invited me out to dinner one night and Rosalie came along. The two of us hit it off and moved in together a few months later.
We arrived home in thirty-five minutes. We lived in a quiet neighborhood in Hoboken. We were walking distance from Washington Street, the main street in Hoboken, which meant parking spots in the evening were scarce. Rosalie was fairly lucky and found a parking spot on our street. We walked up to our building, a beautiful old brownstone that was gutted and remodeled by the current owners. We were on the third floor which was nice because we never had to worry about people making noise about us. On the second floor lived a young married couple and the first floor was an older widowed man. We considered ourselves lucky to have nice, quiet neighbors.
We walked through our front door and slowly made our way up the steps. I unlocked the door to our apartment and we made our way inside. Our apartment was definitely suited to Rosalie’s taste more than my own. When we moved in we decided Rosalie could decorate. I didn’t care what everything looked like, my only stipulation was that the sofa is comfortable, and it was. We painted the living room and hallway a warm brown tone and our floors were light hardwood. On all the walls were pictures of us with friends and family. The kitchen was the one room we didn’t do much too. The walls were a pale yellow and the cabinets matched the floor in the rest of the house. The floor was tiled white.
We mumbled goodnights to each other, both too tired to sit and talk like we normally would. I slowly stumbled into my room. This was the only room I insisted Rosalie do nothing with. I wanted to decide what my haven was like. I painted the walls and ceilings a light blue. The floors were also hardwood and I had a light brown and blue area rug in the middle of the room. There was nothing hanging on the walls but there were two bookshelves full of books and another large stack of books on the floor waiting for a home. My bedroom furniture and desk were white antiqued wood. I had a queen size bed in the middle of the room and a dresser and mirror across from it against the largest wall. My armoire was in the corner, it was home to a television I hardly turned on. My desk was big enough to hold my laptop with a small amount of space for me to work on. It usually ended up being a catch-all.
I looked at the alarm clock and saw it was only 8:45pm. I had papers to grade which I had been putting off all week. They were the assignments the students had for over the summer. They had to read one book from a list of ten and write a 1,000 word essay about it. It was mindless busy work for them and they were never any good. I decided to put it off for another day.
I changed out of my clothes and into my pajama pants and a tank top. I went into the bathroom to wash my makeup off and brush my teeth. When I was done I went back into my room and opted to fall asleep. My overactive mind was having a hard time calming down. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breathes to relax. Within minutes I was sound asleep.