Of course, my pumps were my old silver metallic Manolos that were well broken in. The worst thing was to have on tight shoes at a big party, and I planned to dance and dance. I put all the jewelry in satin sacks and the gown in a roomy garment bag. Then I went to Shelby’s room, where her dress hung from a nail she had hammered into the top of her closet door. Her bridal gown was a delicious confection of sparkle, lace, and tulle. She was going to look like a beautiful fairy-tale princess. Too bad she wasn’t marrying a prince. With all the people Alejandro knew, she probably could have. Ah, well, the die had been cast, and at this hour there was no point in not being 100 percent supportive.
There was a small stack of things on her bed to bring along. Gorgeous white silk and lace panties, a matching garter belt, sheer stockings, a blue garter, and an old handkerchief I’d never seen. Her bustier had been sewn inside her gown. And her shoes were smartly broken in so they wouldn’t pinch. I put her things in the duffel bag with mine and zipped her gown and veil into the enormous garment bag from Saks.
The Glamsquad, owned by Robin Harris, arrived and did their best with my face and hair, and I had to say, the extensions they clipped into my hair added a lot of fullness that middle age had taken away. Robin swept my old and new hair up into a French twist with little wispy pieces on the sides and sprayed it to death.
“This spray is called Impenetrable. Your hair isn’t moving until you tell it to.”
“You know what? I think my face looks better with my hair up.”
“Mrs. Cambria, at a certain point, we all do.”
Reality sucks, I thought.
“Well, I think it’s time to go glam up the bride. Are you ladies ready?”
“Whenever you are!” they said.
“Alejandro? I’m leaving now! I’ll meet you at the club at four, all right?”
No answer.
I opened the door of his study a tiny bit, and sure enough, he was on the phone. I stepped in and tapped his shoulder to get his attention and mouthed, I’m going now. Four o’clock! Don’t be late!
He signaled, Okay, okay, okay, don’t worry!
I put on my long fur and grabbed my handbag. Martin was driving me to the club and Robin and her assistant were following in their own cars.
“Mrs. Cambria! Please! Let me help you with that.”
With the help of our doorman, Martin slid Shelby’s gown and mine through the back of our enormous SUV so that it was perfectly flat. I slipped the duffel bag in the backseat with me and climbed in. I really didn’t like these gargantuan SUVs, but in this weather, it was the safest thing to drive on slippery roads. To be honest, we had kind of a car wardrobe, because Alejandro loved cars. I had my antique Jaguar convertible I’d never part with, we had the big Benz that was so nice on the road, and Alejandro had his Maserati, which was his baby, and this big clunker. I owned the Jag, but everything else was leased. Alejandro felt, and I agreed with him, that technology on cars was changing so quickly, it didn’t make sense to own.
We arrived at the Union League Club and were greeted by the manager, who assured me they would have the gowns upstairs in just the blink of an eye and that they had a steamer, if anything needed a little spritz. I went immediately to Shelby’s room, where she and Ashley waited.
“Hi, Mom!” Shelby said, opening the door for me. “Where’s my dress?”
“It’s coming right behind me.”
“Good morning, Mrs. KC!” Ashley said.
“Wow, Mom, your hair looks incredible!”
“Thanks,” I said, and put the duffel bag on the sofa.
The room service table was still there. I looked under the silver domes to see what they’d ordered. Remnants of chocolate chip pancakes were on one plate, and the remainder of a cheese omelet was on the other. Orange juice was still waiting to be drunk and the coffee was cold. They were sitting on their beds drinking green smoothies.
“So this is what a bride and her maid of honor have for breakfast before marching off to the gallows?” I said, trying to be funny.
“Not funny. I already threw up three times this morning,” Shelby said. “I thought chocolate chip pancakes would make me feel good.”
“But they didn’t?”
“Obviously not,” she said.
“It was pretty gross,” Ashley said.
“I see. It’s perfectly normal to have a nervous stomach on a day like this!”
She rolled her eyes.
“Well, sweetheart? Why don’t you jump in the shower and wash your hair? The Glamsquad will be here momentarily.”
“Okay,” she said, and finally began moving herself, but with no enthusiasm.
I started to roll the room service cart to the hall. If she had a weak stomach, she didn’t need to smell grease and coffee. Ashley’s cell phone rang.
“It’s my mom. She’s downstairs with my dress and stuff. I’ll be right back.”
“Oh, good!” I said.
“If you’ll hold the door, I’ll roll it outside,” she said.
“Happy to oblige!” I said. “Thanks!”
Good, Ashley’s mother’s arrival would give me a few minutes with Shelby. I went to the bathroom door and rapped on it with my knuckles. I could hear the shower running.
“Shelby? May I come in for a second?”
After a moment, the door opened. She was wrapped in a towel, and the shower was still running.
“Are you all right?”
“I think I told you I wasn’t, didn’t I?”
“There’s no reason to be fresh with me. I’m only asking, you know, can I get you something?”
“Maybe a ginger ale and some crackers?”
The doorbell rang.
“Okay. You take your shower.”
It was the bellman with our garment bags. There was a high lip on the top edge of the wardrobe, perfect to hold the neck of the hanger and suspend the gowns.
“Thank you so much,” I said. “Thank you!”
He left and I called room service and ordered the ginger ale and crackers for Shelby. Then I unzipped the garment bags and shook out our clothes. I stood there looking at them for a moment, as though I was caught in a freeze-frame of time. Once I had a wedding gown that hung on a wall like this, but where was my mother’s? And where was she? Useless, that’s what she was. Somewhere being useless. That could’ve been one reason why I was so determined to give my daughter a lavish wedding. I wanted my mother to love me and she never had. I hardly ever thought about her. I wanted Shelby to feel my love. Instead, I drove her crazy. Moving the wedding date made me so angry, but it also made me feel terrible. I stood there for another few moments, wondering if daughters ever felt loved enough. Did sons?
The doorbell rang yet again. It was the Glamsquad. They came right in, saying how nice the room was, and began setting up on the desk. And it rang again: it was Ashley returning. And again: ginger ale and crackers for my bride.
At noon, I had a platter of turkey sandwiches brought up. At one o’clock, I went downstairs to have a look at the ballroom and the room where the ceremony would take place. The room where they would say their vows was lovely. There was a center aisle with eighty-four gold ballroom chairs on either side. At the end of the aisle was a low, skirted platform. On either side of the platform were two enormous sprays of white flowers, lilies, roses, peonies, and some other exotic flowers I’d never seen. Behind the platform stood a large floor mirror, so we could see the faces of the bride and groom. What a great idea!
Wendy was in the ballroom with her clipboard, giving directions to half a dozen people, where to place tables, to straighten the cloths, to fold the napkins this way, not that. Finally she set one place setting herself and stood back.
“We want them all to look just like this one. Oh, hello, Mrs. Cambria! Some days I think I should’ve worked on the set of Downton Abbey.”
“There’s nothing wrong with symmetry,” I said. “It has a special beauty.”
“Thank you! You understand!” she
said.
“I do indeed,” I said.
“I can already see that this will be a beautiful wedding! And I just wanted to thank you for all you’ve done to help us,” I said, still wishing I’d been able to replicate a waterfall in Africa. Monkeys would’ve been so much fun.
“It really is my pleasure,” she said.
By three thirty, we were almost dressed. I zipped up the back of my daughter’s wedding gown.
“Turn around,” I said. “Let me see.”
She turned and looked at me with a very girlish giggle. “How do I look, Mom?”
My eyes welled with tears. After today, she’d be someone’s wife. I’d be that someone’s mother-in-law. How did this moment get here so quickly? We were on the edge of enormous change for both of us. Ashley handed me a tissue.
“Exquisite,” I said. I blotted my eyes so my mascara wouldn’t run down my face. I looked at the tissue. Nothing. Not even the tiniest smear. I turned to Robin. “This mascara really is waterproof, isn’t it?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Can you leave the tube for me?”
“Of course,” she said.
Juliet Elizabeth, the photographer, arrived. She was early.
“You never specified, but I thought you might like some shots of you and your daughter getting dressed, you know, maybe adjusting her veil?”
“What a wonderful idea!” I said. “How did I overlook that?”
Shelby said, “So I don’t think this garter thing is going to work for me.”
“It’s sort of prehistoric,” Ashley said. “I mean, at my friend Charlotte’s wedding? She said, like, no way! I didn’t blame her.”
Millennials, I thought.
I attached the veil to Shelby’s hair and Juliet began shooting. She was quietly taking rapid-fire pictures as though her camera were a machine gun.
“Mom, can you keep it in your pocket? In case Frederick really wants to throw the thing? Then I guess.”
Click! Click!
“Are you going to throw your bouquet?” I asked, handing her the bouquet of white hydrangea and pale pink roses. I mean, was she just going to toss tradition completely out the window?
Click! Click!
“Why do I need a bouquet, anyway?” she said. “Seems like a waste of money.”
“Because you can’t carry a bag of groceries up the aisle,” I said, thinking I was pretty funny. No one even cracked a smile. “You need something to do with your hands. They can’t just hang by your side.”
“I guess so,” she said and finally accepted the wisdom of her elders all through the ages, practically as far back as Eve in the Garden.
It was ten minutes to four. Where was Alejandro? I called his cell. It went to voice mail. He had to be on his way by now. I called Martin. He answered right away.
“Yes, Mrs. Cambria?”
“Please tell me Alejandro is in the car with you and you’re on the way here.”
Juliet recorded my anxiety. Click!
“No, ma’am. I imagine that by now he’s in the elevator on the way to your room.”
I exhaled for perhaps the first time in a long while. “Thank you, Martin.”
The doorbell rang.
“Shelby! Go into the bedroom and close the door.”
Shelby picked up the bottom of her gown and hurried into the bedroom. Juliet took a picture of her scurrying away with Ashley behind her.
“Alejandro?”
“Yes, it is the father of the bride, here to perform his duty,” he said from the other side of the door. “May I come in?”
I opened the door and let him in.
“Wait until you see your daughter. You’re going to lose it.”
“I am bracing myself,” he said.
I straightened his bow tie. Juliet took a picture.
“You look so handsome. I’m so in love with you.”
“I hope you will always feel that way,” he said.
“I will. I promise.”
“And you, my dear, are positively regal.”
“Thank you, sweetheart.” There was nothing like a million dollars of diamonds and pearls to make a girl look like a queen.
“Mom? Can I come out now?”
“Yes, come! Let your father see you!”
Alejandro’s words were a brave show, but I knew he was about to melt. Ashley came through the door first and stood aside. Then Shelby walked into the room. Alejandro gasped.
“Here’s my little girl all grown up,” he said, raising his chin and blinking away tears.
“Hi, Daddy,” she said.
He held out his arms to her and she rushed into them the same way she had since she was a toddler. Juliet went crazy, photographing them from every possible angle. He hugged her and kissed the top of her head, as he always did. For nearly the next two hours, Juliet took pictures of us. By the windows, standing, seated, one person standing, the other seated, and in every possible combination. Me pinning Alejandro’s boutonniere to his lapel. Him putting my wristlet in place. On and on. This was a well-documented moment in our little family’s history.
Before we knew it, it was five minutes to six. Showtime.
“Well,” I said, “it’s time. Let’s go give you to Frederick to have and to hold.”
We took the elevator down to the Wrigley Room, where Wendy waited at the door. We could hear the music, a lovely quartet from the Chicago Symphony. Floyd, Diane, and Virnell were there waiting for us as well.
“Oh, Shelby!” Diane said. “You look absolutely beautiful!”
“Thanks,” she said, smiling.
“You sure do,” Virnell said.
I was stealing glances at Floyd. He sure looked good in a tuxedo.
“You clean up good,” he said when he caught my eye.
“Thank you, Floyd,” I said as evenly as I could.
He shook hands with Alejandro and they mumbled some niceties to each other.
Wendy said, “In one minute, Mr. English is going to seat his mother in the front row on the right and come back for his sister. Then, when she’s seated, he will stand to the right of our groom and his best man. Next, Mr. Cambria will seat Mrs. Cambria in the front row on the left and return here. Our beautiful maid of honor will then proceed slowly up the aisle, smiling, smiling, smiling, and take her place on the left side facing the guests. And then the big moment arrives and I think we all know what to do. Are we ready?”
“I think so,” Diane said.
“I’m ready,” Virnell said.
Everyone did as we were instructed. The music changed and we stood for Shelby and Alejandro. My husband looked like a movie star. He was so handsome. And my beautiful Shelby all but floated up the aisle on his arm, the light bouncing off the tiny crystal jets that were sewn in her gown, making the moment magical. She was radiant and excited. I was so proud of her. As I turned around to face Judge Joiner, I saw Floyd staring a hole through me. I smiled at him and he smiled back.
“Who gives this woman . . . ?”
“To have and to hold . . .”
“I will.”
“I will.”
It was over so quickly, I felt like I had missed it. I wanted them to say their vows all over again. My mind kept wandering. The recessional had begun. Shelby sailed by on Frederick’s arm. Then Ashley went by on Bill’s arm.
Alejandro reached over and took my hand, pulling me close to him.
“It’s okay,” he said, stepping out into the aisle. “Come with me. Everything is going to be all right.”
“But that’s my baby,” I said, wanting to weep an ocean of tears. “I’m sorry. I’m just so overcome!”
I plastered a smile on my face and composed myself. I spotted Judy CQ in a gown with a feathered collar and gave her my best happy face. She applauded a little and blew me a kiss. I thought you can hide that neck, but you still have it. We went straight into the reception. There were waiters at the door with trays of champagne, white wine, and sparkling water on ice.
&nbs
p; “Beautiful bride, beautiful ceremony,” Alejandro said. “May I get you something stronger, my dear?”
“Yes, please.”
Floyd appeared at my side just as Alejandro stepped away toward the bar. He produced a camouflage-covered flask from his pocket. Then he took a glass of water from a waiter’s tray, drained it through his fingers into a potted palm, and covered the ice with a healthy dose from his stash.
“Cheers,” he said, handing me the goblet. “Congratulations.”
I took a sip. It was delicious.
“Oh, honey,” I said.
“Are you talking to me?” he said.
“No, Mr. English, I’m talking to the vodka.”
“Hmm,” he said. “Maybe we’d better find our table.”
“You’re at table three,” I said. “Right off the dance floor over there.”
There were twenty-something tables of eight draped in white linen, placed all around the dance floor. The elevated centerpieces of pink and white peonies and roses were not only gorgeous but fragrant. I thought the club must own five hundred candelabra, because they were everywhere, burning hand-rolled ivory beeswax candles that I ordered from Perin-Mowen because they issued a softer glow. That may sound like I had overthought Shelby’s wedding reception, but it’s always the details that take the expected into another realm. The brass chandeliers were dimmed, but they still sparkled like mad because of their dropped crystals. Everyone looked good in the glow of beeswax. This night was like going to a ball on the inside of a beautiful jewelry box. While it was not the wedding of my dreams, I was still thrilled.
The cake stood on its own table, four tiers of vanilla cake with chocolate ganache in between the layers, and in a nod to Frederick’s family, I had the pastry chef make peaches from spun sugar. I hoped they noticed.
I put my evening bag at my seat and looked around for Alejandro. He was talking to the club manager.
The Duke Ellington Orchestra had lost some members because of the weather, but oh, they were amazing anyway. Ramsey was right. Of course, we had invited Ramsey to be a guest, but he was in Montreal, performing with some famous jazz group.
By Invitation Only Page 20