Since word of mouth didn’t get through to her, the announcement in the paper offered final proof he was getting married. His eyes looked up at Harriet from the photo, gleaming. It wasn’t so much that she was seeing happiness as she was him laughing and calling her a fool. All the while they’d been together, Phillip was planning another life. No wonder he laid up with her only once a week toward the end. Where they used to rip each other’s clothes off soon after closing the front door, he started treating her like stale bread he had little use for. What she was worthy of was cooking a good meal. Washing underwear and shit. Feeding the damn dog.
“You still haven’t said anything to him?” her best friend asked.
How many times had she told Gina she didn’t have shit to say? Better yet, how many times had she told her ignorant ass to stop sitting at her kitchen table plucking those goddamn hairs from her chin? Instead of answering, Harriet ran her tongue along her teeth and burped. She tasted the collards she’d eaten an hour ago and thought she would throw up. She swallowed it back the way she did with the words she wanted to lay into Phillip after announcing to the world he was getting married quick-like and in a hurry. Everybody knew he and Harriet was a couple. Who the hell knew he was coupled up with somebody else?
“Wanna know what I’m thinking?” Gina grinned.
“I suspect you’ll bless me with your wisdom regardless.” Harriet rolled her neck and crossed her arms, waiting.
“I say we crash the hell outta that bitch.” Gina was calm and still plucking. “Shit, I ain’t got nothing else to do come that weekend and since that bastard’s outta your wedding picture, neither do you.”
Harriet got to smiling on the inside at the devilment of busting up his little wedded bliss. Funny how different things made folk happy. Him getting married and her fucking it up.
Come that hot June noonday, Harriet and Gina waited for everybody to walk down the aisle looking all pretty, like it was the happiest day in their little lives. Flower petals sprinkled along the aisles. Happy ass love songs. Blowing kisses and shit. Oh, if had it been somebody else’s wedding, Harriet might’ve been touched but crouching on her knees behind bushes pulled the anger from deep in her belly.
Then, she caught sight of Phillip standing before the little preacher man who was gonna tie up the knots and shit. She and Gina were good and ready but damn if they didn’t have to wait through another love ballad sung by some booted off American Idol. Just too damn happy for her.
Harriet looked off for a minute. Found herself getting teared up at being dumped ‘til Gina signaled for her to wipe away them damn tears. They heard the I dos. Then, preacher man asked his usual question – if anybody had doubts and questions, to raise their right hand or hold their peace or however it went. Harriet had plenty built up anger. Everything was a blur but she managed to pop her ass from them bushes when preacher man waited and looked to the guests.
“Hell naw, them bitches shouldn’t be marrying up!” Harriet screamed out, one hand riding her hip and the other pointing down the aisle at Phillip and his big ass bride. Him and Phillip, arm in arm, wearing matching pink bow ties and shit, frozen still when Gina’s fool ass ran screaming down the aisle toward them.