Lies! Lies! Lies! They're Gonna Getcha!

I proceeded with all that I had to do. Pedi. Eyebrow wax.  Shaving. Polishing. Buffing.

And I kept waiting to hear from him. An update. An ETA.  A text saying he needs a stiff drink instead of coffee when he arrives. Even the sound of him pulling up to the curb.  Anything. I got nothing.

Time wore on. I continued to get ready.  Hil helped me with my hair.  Her job as she sees it. Pat helped me zip my dress and clasp my necklace.  Scott's job as I see it.

As the moment I needed to leave drew near I panicked. Peppered him with calls and texts. Where on God's green Earth was he?  Was everything OK? Was he in the ER?  What could have possibly happened that would keep him from calling me or texting me? I imagined the worst. I wondered if I should be frivolously trotting off to a wedding at all if his daughter were in grave danger. (My party girl version of Nero fiddling while Rome burned.) Can you imagine?  I am yukking it up in the beer tent and he's in the ICU with a daughter under conscious sedation.

Finally he texted me. Quite calmly and without apology.  He said that his daughter was feeling crappy and he and she were lying in bed watching TV.  She was weak and miserable and just needed him there.

Which would be swell if she were five years old. But she was 15.

And I could forgive him his choice as a parent quite simply and immediately, if only he had let me know what was happening. Been up front. Had not waited for me to ask. And ask again. And ask more urgently. And ask with words of panic and concern. Had he volunteered the information.

But he had not. He had not given me the courtesy.

I sent him a less than courteous text. He ignored it.

And what made matters worse is that I'd not heard his voice or even his daughter's through all of this. And that made it all seem insincere. Made me think he was lying. Could this have been staged?

I pushed the thoughts from my head and got myself looking absolutely striking. Got into my car. Drove to the wedding. Stepped out literally and figuratively on my own.

But on the way to the wedding, I saw something. I was putting iTunes on in my car at a red light and Facebook flashed across the screen.  And Scott's daughter had posted something funny and snarky and completely hilarious on FB.

I sent a veiled message. I "liked" it. So she knew I saw it. And so did he.

And moments later, the post disappeared.

I assumed he told her to stay off Facebook. She needed to appear sick. The weak and miserable do not post amusing YouTube videos. And she'd blow his cover if she posted that she were riding the log flume on the Boardwalk.

And I am sure she was.