Erica was Simon's best friend, and had been forever, so when Simon got married, she supposed it made sense that he wanted her to be his best man.
She argued all the same, and said she didn't want to. She said he was a weirdo, and he should just put her in Elizabeth's bridal party like a normal person would. He argued back. He said he didn't really have any male friends, and Erica knew that Elizabeth, his fiancée, didn't have any brothers, so doing it this way just made sense.
In the end Erica stopped arguing. It seemed a bit ungracious, when it was his wedding.
She got to go to the stag's night. That was fun. Or not. It was Simon and her and a few guys from his work, and Erica sat at the bar and talked to an off-duty stripper and didn't look anywhere she didn't want to look, because she wasn't going to make herself part of the show to a bunch of strangers. She talked to the stripper, and ignored Simon's pissed friends, and secretly resented that the bridal party was getting pedicures and massages right now. Or not exactly right now, at two in the morning, but they would be getting them instead. Not that she knew any of the bridal party, she supposed, but then again, she didn't know anyone here either, so not knowing people didn't really make much of a difference. After the strippers, she got Simon home, and made sure he didn't get tied to anything shaven-headed and naked. He didn't, so she supposed that was probably a win. And she was also fairly sure he'd doubled the number of tits he'd touched in his life in one night, including hers, by mistake, while she was getting him through his front door. That was probably a win, as well.
The strippers seemed to be about the end of her best man duties. Not losing him during the stag night, and making sure he turned up at the actual wedding, that was all.
The wedding venue was an old county house, some kind of pioneer settler place a couple of hours out of the city with grounds and trees, which had been turned into a corporate and wedding venue. It was nice. It was fancier than Simon deserved, Erica thought, and decided she quite liked the place.
She had time to look around, at the rehearsal, because the bridal party seemed to be taking their time. In the end Simon made her go and see what was happening. Apparently there were other best man jobs, mostly to do with how Simon couldn't see the dress before the wedding day. She went and knocked on the door where the bridal party was getting ready.
One of the bridesmaids, Cara, opened it. She opened it a crack, and looked out.
"Best man," Cara said, blocking the door, peering out. "Hi. Is it just you?"
Erica nodded.
"Good," Cara said.
"Is it Erica?" someone said from inside the room. Erica thought it was Elizabeth's voice.
"Yep," Cara said, and everyone inside seemed to relax. They started talking again. Cara stayed in the doorway.
"Nice suit," she said to Erica.
Erica made a face and said, "Don't."
Simon had made her wear a suit, even though she hadn't wanted to. They both had to match, Simon had insisted, which was about when Erica started to think there was a lot of being bossed around involved in best manning. She wasn't completely happy about the suit, although the tie and pocket hanky were quite fancy. Cara had a sleek fitted dress in red, which Erica envied. She wanted a dress too.
"Nice shoes," Cara said, glancing down.
Erica grinned. She was wearing black strappy four-inch heels. Simon had won about everything else, including her hair being up in a bun, and her having the same carnation in it as he had in his collar. He'd won about everything except the shoes, and Erica had just demanded she get her way on those. She needed the height, she'd said, if she was supposed to match him. Then she'd told him that the bride paid for shoes and dresses, and so he was too. That had pretty much ended that conversation.
Erica grinned, and looked down at Cara's shoes. They matched her dress.
"Same," Erica said. "Very much so."
They both stood there looking at each other's feet. After a moment, after the shoe staring seemed to have gone on slightly too long, Erica decided she'd better say something or it was going to get a little weird. "We were wondering what the hold up was?" she said.
"Elizabeth."
"Of course, but nothing, um, bad?"
Cara shook her head. "She put everything on. To check it all. Now she has to take it all off again."
"Oh yeah," Erica said, realizing. "Of course." Apparently everyone had to dress up for the rehearsal, and everyone except the bride had to wear their fancies. To make sure everything still fit, Erica supposed, and that no-one clashed with each other. Or something. For just a moment she was glad she was wearing a suit, after all, and had spent the last twenty minutes doing nothing much more complicated than standing around outside, under a tree, with Simon.
"There's something I wanted to talk to you about though," Cara said.
"Yeah, the dance."
Elizabeth had agreed to Erica as a best man, but said Erica still had to dance. Elizabeth wanted a perfect wedding, which meant, as far as Erica could tell, that everything had to be exactly as it would have been a hundred years ago. That meant first dances, and second dances, and speeches, and toasts. Erica had to make speeches, and she had to dance with the bridesmaids, and she wasn't sure she could do either very well. She couldn't do old-timey dancing, and she definitely couldn't do it being the one who was leading. They'd all been practicing now and then, but it hadn't been going well. She was still a little worried.
"Not that," Cara said. "That we'll deal with, or not."
"Not?" Erica said, hopefully.
Cara grinned. "If everyone's pissed enough, sure. It's not that, though. It's something else. Another formality."
"Okay," Erica said, and waited for Cara to explain.
Cara glanced back into the dressing room, then stepped outside, into the hallway, and pulled the door closed. "Come on," she said, and went off down the hallway.
Erica followed, assuming it was some extra piece of fuck-awful tradition like cutting cakes or speeches or whatever. Cara went into one of the other dressing rooms, and Erica followed her.
Cara closed the door. Then locked it.
"Um," Erica said, watching.
"It's like this," Cara said. "There's another tradition we need to sort out."
"Is there?"
"Yep."
"Who's we?"
"Well, you and me."
"Okay," Erica said, looking at the door. "Um, what?"
"The best man's supposed to fuck one of the bridesmaids."
"Um," Erica said. "What?"
"It's a tradition."
"Yeah, I've heard. But, um, what?"
Cara grinned.
"Are you serious?" Erica said.
"Yep, pretty much."
"And Elizabeth knows about this, does she?" Erica said. "She sent you to talk this over?"
"Of course not," Cara said. "This is pretty much for me."
"But you want to..."
"I hoped you might pick me. If you wanted anyone."
"And if I don't want anyone?"
Cara shrugged. "There's no harm asking."
"Um," Erica said, still not quite sure if Cara was teasing her, somehow. "I never really have before..."
"Fucked a bridesmaid?"
"Um, no," Erica said, and flushed. "Not just a bridesmaid. Any kind of maid, really..."
"Oh." Cara actually seemed surprised. "Seriously?"
Erica shrugged, feeling a little judged. "Not everyone does, you know."
"God, sorry, I just mean... well, you really work in the suit. I just assumed..."
