The Seven Month Itch Read Online Free
Author: Allison Rushby
a couple of hours before the wedding, a pre-recorded message will let them all know where they have to go. It’s all very Secret Squirrel.
The flights, accommodation and the security have been the expensive part of the wedding. Strangely, everything else has been pretty cheap. When I started my planning, I thought Holly would want the whole big celebrity-wedding deal, but then when I told her about all the big hotels I’d been to see, she actually looked a bit sad. She confided in me that that was what her whole wedding to Kent (the one that never happened) had been about: show. The most expensive reception, the most expensive gifts, the biggest, most expensive engagement ring. I could hardly believe it when Holly told my dad she didn’t really want an engagement ring. I mean, I’d seen the one Kentgave her. It was HUGE! And I mean huge. That rock was so big, I was surprised she hadn’t had to drag her hand along the ground behind her every time she wore it. Dad did buy Holly a ring in the end – a gorgeous smoky square-cut sapphire. It’s dark and beautiful and suits her perfectly. Not like that three-carat diamond monstrosity from Kent, which was all about him . (Don’t get me started on a Kent rant …)
Anyway, when Holly explained that she wanted a simple wedding that was about her and Dad, I realised what I had to do. I decided to go for the things that make them happy every day. Like Nico’s. And I’m getting the cake – or I should say, cakes – from City Bakery. Dad, Holly and I walk there every Sunday for a cupcake, and every week Holly makes us walk fast because she has cupcake guilt. I tell her she shouldn’t make me feel bad about eating the cupcake, because I’m an impressionable youngster and if she’s not careful I’ll get an eating disorder. Then Holly and Dad laugh for at least three blocks. It’s sort of a ritual with us.
Still, I do think that Holly worries about her weight too much. She was in this movie a while ago with Renée Zellweger, and every time she stood next to Ms Z, shelooked fat. I hated that, because Holly looks amazing. Nice and cupcake curvy. Like a woman rather than a scarecrow. Just like Marilyn Monroe …
Oh.
Er.
Oops.
The subway lurches once more and my eyes widen. Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about her .
Instantly, I forget about Susannah, I forget about the wedding, and I am brought way, way, way back down to earth. To beneath the earth. To the subway. And garlic Cheerios man. And the trickle of sweat slowly skipping its way down my back.
I’m not allowed to think about Marilyn Monroe, you see. I know I did before and everything, in the apartment, but that was because I forgot to stop myself. Marilyn Monroe and I have a … I guess you could call it a chequered past. The thing is, I’m a little bit obsessed with her. Or used to be, that is. I just love her films and … right, there I go again. Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about her . You know all that business with thecruise ship, about finding Holly some love on the high seas? It was Marilyn herself who got me into a bit of trouble there. I sort of started to make myself believe that the plot of one of her films was playing itself out for real. I started thinking there were these coincidences going on left, right and centre (I like to call these little coincidences ‘Marilynisms’)… and, well, Dad, Holly, some weird photographer guy and I found ourselves in a bit of a muddle.
Dad’s always been a bit worried about my Marilyn thing. About my DVD collection, my collectable Marilyn dolls and plates, and even more so about the $35,000 bra of Marilyn’s I once coveted on ebay (well, it was a bargain!). But this time, when I started to mess with people’s lives, he got serious: if I didn’t knock it off, it was back to the kiddie psychiatrist again. Thus, I’m trying very hard to kick the Marilyn habit. It’s difficult, though, because
The flights, accommodation and the security have been the expensive part of the wedding. Strangely, everything else has been pretty cheap. When I started my planning, I thought Holly would want the whole big celebrity-wedding deal, but then when I told her about all the big hotels I’d been to see, she actually looked a bit sad. She confided in me that that was what her whole wedding to Kent (the one that never happened) had been about: show. The most expensive reception, the most expensive gifts, the biggest, most expensive engagement ring. I could hardly believe it when Holly told my dad she didn’t really want an engagement ring. I mean, I’d seen the one Kentgave her. It was HUGE! And I mean huge. That rock was so big, I was surprised she hadn’t had to drag her hand along the ground behind her every time she wore it. Dad did buy Holly a ring in the end – a gorgeous smoky square-cut sapphire. It’s dark and beautiful and suits her perfectly. Not like that three-carat diamond monstrosity from Kent, which was all about him . (Don’t get me started on a Kent rant …)
Anyway, when Holly explained that she wanted a simple wedding that was about her and Dad, I realised what I had to do. I decided to go for the things that make them happy every day. Like Nico’s. And I’m getting the cake – or I should say, cakes – from City Bakery. Dad, Holly and I walk there every Sunday for a cupcake, and every week Holly makes us walk fast because she has cupcake guilt. I tell her she shouldn’t make me feel bad about eating the cupcake, because I’m an impressionable youngster and if she’s not careful I’ll get an eating disorder. Then Holly and Dad laugh for at least three blocks. It’s sort of a ritual with us.
Still, I do think that Holly worries about her weight too much. She was in this movie a while ago with Renée Zellweger, and every time she stood next to Ms Z, shelooked fat. I hated that, because Holly looks amazing. Nice and cupcake curvy. Like a woman rather than a scarecrow. Just like Marilyn Monroe …
Oh.
Er.
Oops.
The subway lurches once more and my eyes widen. Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about her .
Instantly, I forget about Susannah, I forget about the wedding, and I am brought way, way, way back down to earth. To beneath the earth. To the subway. And garlic Cheerios man. And the trickle of sweat slowly skipping its way down my back.
I’m not allowed to think about Marilyn Monroe, you see. I know I did before and everything, in the apartment, but that was because I forgot to stop myself. Marilyn Monroe and I have a … I guess you could call it a chequered past. The thing is, I’m a little bit obsessed with her. Or used to be, that is. I just love her films and … right, there I go again. Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about her . You know all that business with thecruise ship, about finding Holly some love on the high seas? It was Marilyn herself who got me into a bit of trouble there. I sort of started to make myself believe that the plot of one of her films was playing itself out for real. I started thinking there were these coincidences going on left, right and centre (I like to call these little coincidences ‘Marilynisms’)… and, well, Dad, Holly, some weird photographer guy and I found ourselves in a bit of a muddle.
Dad’s always been a bit worried about my Marilyn thing. About my DVD collection, my collectable Marilyn dolls and plates, and even more so about the $35,000 bra of Marilyn’s I once coveted on ebay (well, it was a bargain!). But this time, when I started to mess with people’s lives, he got serious: if I didn’t knock it off, it was back to the kiddie psychiatrist again. Thus, I’m trying very hard to kick the Marilyn habit. It’s difficult, though, because
Readers choose
Anna Wilson
Laura Ward
Dell Magazine Authors
Katherine Pathak
Connie Mason
Karl Kruszelnicki
Vi Keeland
Patricia Rice
Thomas Gondolfi
Michael Hofmann