"Hurry back," Mickey urged.
She hurried but had to wait in line. When she got back he was gone.
"What? Just like that?" she implored of her friend.
Cynthia was grinding her teeth with rage. "Forget him. He's just another dickhead!"
"But he was… he was really nice!"
Cynthia gave Anne her handbag and stood to leave. "Come on, sweetie."
"What? What did he say?" Anne's lip was quivering. She knew.
"He said nothing. Just that he had to run."
"When he saw me walk?" Anne forced the words out through the tightness in her chest as she tried to take a breath.
"Come on-let's go. He was just another asshole," her friend offered, squeezing Anne's hand and leading through the crowd.
It had happened plenty of times before, but that had been about the most obvious cut-and-run Anne had experienced. It hurt and she cried. She had managed to hold tough until seeing Cynthia off in the car park, but once alone in her car she gave in to the tears. She stopped at a traffic light and turned to see the guy, Mike, driving the car stopped in the next lane. He glanced at her, then his head turned to face directly ahead. She stared at him until he drove off without acknowledging her. She then turned and drove, but had to slam her brake on because the light had changed to red again, and she sat there half across the line in a state of severe disappointment.
There were no more tears, but any thought of finding a man at the wedding had been destroyed. Anne went through the motions. She wore her pretty dress and dark stockings, and she made up her face and pinned her floral and lace barrette in her hair. Her girlfriends were all over her at the reception. She was seated with Cynthia and her husband, and three other couples.
Anne got a bit drunk. She had left her car and caught a cab, intending to party as best she could on her own. She couldn't dance; not the wiggle and move type stuff. Cynthia sent her husband Josh to take her for a slow dance, and Anne closed her eyes and imagined as she clung to his broad shoulders and rested her head against his chest. She swayed with him, and he held her close. Cynthia was watching and smiling over, so Anne closed her eyes again and continued to imagine.
Later, Melissa sent her man to ask Anne for a slow dance, and she swayed and cuddled up against him too. He was older, almost grey. He smelled wonderful.