Shades of a Bridezilla

A oneshot of Anna having a difficult time choosing color schemes for their wedding reception.

 

Anna chewed on a thumbnail, eyes darting between the two samples of color schemes she had splayed side by side on the coffee table.  Her vision had begun to blur from the strain of examining the same exact shade of purple for the past forty minutes, after she had spent over an hour eliminating about twenty more of the same – not to mention the couple hours it took for her to come to a decision on fonts, flowers, cake toppers, etc.

In that very draining time, she had determined one thing about the two cards before her: the only contrast between them was the creatively assigned names that were neatly printed on the back of each card, and that’s basically about it.

“Ugh, I don’t know,” she whined aloud to herself.

Why would there be this many shades of one freakin’ color to choose from, anyway? Whatever happened to the beauty of simplicity?  The colors of the rainbow? Whoever had the brilliant idea of mixing shades together deserved a kick in the nuts as far as she was concerned.

Ready to tear her hair out, Anna rubbed her face and shouted for her husband. “Harry!”

“Yeah?” He called out from the other room, probably snickering to himself at the sound of her exasperation as he continued doing whatever it was he was doing. (Like avoiding her.)

“Can you come here for a second?”

“…..Why….,” came his suspicious inquiry.

Anna wrinkled her nose. The bastard was onto her, and if she knew her husband, there was no way she was going to convince him to help her pick between dark purple and dark purple.  Especially not when she had agreed to take on all the “little” wedding details since he had arranged the magical beach wedding without her assistance.  Now she wanted to kick herself in the nuts–metaphorically speaking–for being easily persuaded by those dreamy blue eyes of his.  “I need your opinion on something.”

A pregnant pause followed before he said, “Does it have to do with the wedding?”

She inwardly groaned.  “Noooo…”

Her hesitation confirmed his suspicions. “You’re the poorest liar there is! I already planned a wedding. This one’s all you.”

“Haaarry!” She whined.

“Annaaaa,” he mimicked her. “We had an agreement.”

“I know, but-”

“You’re a big girl; you can handle it yourself.”

With a frown, she looked down at the colors again and had to blink when her vision began to shake. “My eyes are going cross eyed! These look exactly the same!”

Harry chuckled, careful to be low enough so she wouldn’t hear how amusing he found her frustration.  No way would she have been able to pull off a beach wedding in twenty-four hours – not if she was so indecisive about colors. “If that’s the case then it shouldn’t be this difficult to just fucking pick one.”

Anna pursed her lips.  He had a valid point.

“Damn you,” she muttered.  Why did he always have to be right? She snorted.  Okay, always was definitely an exaggeration on her part.  “He fucking wishes.”

Remaining in the other room, Harry didn’t hear her murmuring, but he could still sense something indeterminate lingering in the air.  “Just take a short break, baby.”

“I can’t. The deadline to send these over to Marla was two days ago and I’ve been ignoring her phone calls all day.”

“Why??”

“Uh, ‘cause I’m afraid she’s going to rip me a new one. Have you heard her on the phone with a vendor or venue? She’s a close second after you with the whole intimidation thing.”

Harry laughed. “It’s called being assertive. Besides, you’re paying her, not the other way around. If anything, she should be afraid of you ripping her a new one.” He paused before adding, “Listen, she will get them when you are ready. Take a break, close your eyes, do some breathing exercises before you give yourself an aneurysm. I would prefer it if my wife wasn’t comatose at the altar.”

“Fine.” Obliging, Anna rested her eyes and immediately sighed in gratitude. It felt nice to see nothing but darkness for awhile, even if it took a few brief moments for the hues imprinted in her brain to disappear.  The muscles around her hunched shoulders still felt a little stiff, so she bowed her head until her chin almost touched her collarbone and rolled her neck from side to side, gasping and moaning quietly at the unexpected crack of her aching bones.

She could do this, just pick a fucking card like Harry suggested.  It wasn’t that hard.

When her eyelids peeled open again, her vision was a bit more clearer than it had been previously.  Feeling rejuvenated, she straightened her shoulders and smiled confidently.  She would finish this tonight.  All she had to do was just pluck a card for the final color scheme, file it into the manila envelope with the other stamp of approvals, and overnight it to the wedding planner before she had a cow…or Anna’s head.

But as Anna’s eyes landed on the cards that seemed to be staring up at her mockingly, something struck her.  She cocked her head to the side and a crease formed on her brow….and all self-assurance whooshed right out of window.

“Son of a bitch..” Anna sighed heavily; defeated.  Of course this would happen.  After almost an hour of insisting there was absolutely no difference whatsoever about the shades, she now could see the slight contrast.  And, just like that, she was even more stuck than before.

At this rate, she was never going to bed tonight.

Twisting at the waist, she leaned back far enough to call out in the direction of the foyer to ensure her husband would hear her clearly.  “I want a divorce!”

Harry’s unaffected laughter echoed throughout the house, bringing a smile to her face.