Going to the Chapel

by Janet Tronstad

  “She doesn’t think our marriage will last and she said she didn’t want any part of it,” Elaine says after she looks and sees where Aunt Inga is. “She doesn’t like me.”

  “She’s never even met you!”

  “She’s just listening to her mother,” Elaine says with a sigh. “Her mother has met me.”

  “Well, what’s not to like? You’re pretty. You’re smart.” I begin my list.

  “I don’t have a college degree,” Elaine interrupts. “Or a trust fund. And I’ve never been to Europe. Or met a royal person or even a congressman.” Elaine takes a breath. “Gary’s mother thinks I’m common.”

  Elaine is giving me a look now that is nothing like the usual Look. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “All of those things are fixable,” I say. “You have two years of college already. You just take some time to finish. And it’s not hard to go to Europe. You just need a ticket. You might not have a trust fund, but you’re not common—whatever that means!”

  Elaine smiles a little. “It means I’m not good enough for her son.”

  “In her opinion,” I say. “Mothers never think the woman their son marries is good enough for him.”

  “I’m beginning to think I might not be, though,” Elaine says. Her voice is quiet and she’s serious.

  I’ve never seen Elaine like this. Everything always turns out the way Elaine wants it. I can’t believe Gary’s mother has stomped on Elaine’s confidence to this point.

  “Gary is lucky you’re willing to marry him,” I say emphatically.

  I see that Aunt Inga is beside me and I turn to her. “Isn’t Gary lucky to have someone like Elaine want to marry him?”

  “Of course,” Aunt Inga says as she gives Elaine a hug. “You’re a sweetheart.”

  Aunt Inga’s hug does what my words didn’t. Elaine smiles.

  “I guess it’s just nerves,” Elaine says as she gives Aunt Inga a hug right back.

  “It’s not too late to back out, though,” I say quietly. “If for some reason you felt you should back out, that is.”

  Elaine nods. “It will be fine.”

  Elaine looks as if she’s doing better after she has some salad and two deviled eggs. I’m not doing better, though. You see, this is the problem with someone telling you their troubles. I’m beginning to think that Gary’s sister may have a point. I don’t see how this marriage can last.

  Aunt Gladys and Aunt Ruth don’t seem too worried and they certainly have had more experience with married life than I have. Aunt Inga keeps watching over Elaine as if she’s worried, but Aunt Inga hasn’t been married, either. That makes the two married women in the family okay with this wedding and the two unmarried women not so okay.

  I look over at my mother. I don’t know what category she should fall into. She was married, but it was so long ago, she’s probably forgotten all about it. She enjoyed being married, too. I know that from the things she used to say. I wonder why she never married again.

  The shock of that thought goes through me. I’ve never asked myself that question before. My mother was always just my mother. I never thought of her remarrying. That would be worse than her moving to Las Vegas.

  My mother is sitting at a table beside the one where the aunts are sitting. She’s close enough to hear their conversation and talk with them if she wants. But she’s still separate.

  I take my plastic plate back to the food table and stick it in the bag Aunt Gladys brought. Then I go sit beside my mother.

  My mother’s face has changed over the years. She has a few lines around her eyes now and her hair is a shade blonder than it should be so I know she dyes it. She also has started to fidget with her hands. Maybe it’s because of all the rings she wears on her fingers. Then again maybe it’s because I sat down next to her.

  “Your tunnel is beautiful,” I say.

  “It’s just some crepe paper and chicken wire,” she says, but it makes her fidget less.

  “I’m glad you came down to help.”

  “Well, Inga asked me and—” my mother looked at me quickly and then looked away “—I owe her so much.”

  My breath stops. Here is my chance to ask my mother what I have always wanted to know. I’m sure I’ve had other chances before, but I’ve never had the courage to find out what she would say. I’m not sure I have any more courage now, but—

  “I owe Aunt Inga a lot, too,” I say. “I never thought I’d spend most of my childhood with her.”

  My mother goes very still. “I never thought you would, either.”

  We are silent for a minute and I wonder if I have the nerve to ask her for more than that.

  Finally, my mother begins again. “I always thought, those first few years, that I just needed a little more time to make a good home for you. I was working too much and I didn’t have anyone to take care of you when I was working so I thought it was better for you to be with Aunt Inga than a stranger all day.”

  Okay. “But I went to school most of the time later. I would have only needed day care for another year or so.”

  I turn away a little so I can blink my eyes a bit. I don’t want her to know I carry that hurt from such a long time ago.

  “When I finally had enough money,” my mother says softly, “I couldn’t ask you to come. By then you were more Aunt Inga’s than you were mine. I couldn’t take you away from her.”

  “That’s not a good enough reason,” I say. I even turn back toward her so she can see the hurt in my eyes.

  “No, I suppose not,” she agrees.

  We sit there for a minute until she puts her arm around me. I don’t bend toward her, but I let her keep the arm there.

  Before long, the cousins have all of the plastic containers put back in the cooler for Aunt Gladys, and are looking around for something else to lift. My mother has gotten up from her chair and gone back into the chapel.

  I’m just sitting in the courtyard reliving the past, both the past few minutes and the past many years. I can’t believe I actually asked my mother why she hadn’t come to take me to live with her. I always thought that if I asked her that the sky would fall down or the earth would start to shake. But I asked my question and nothing happened.

  Well, nothing happened on the outside of me. I can feel things inside of me shifting around and they’re cosmic. You know, it still feels as though God is looking down at me but, for the first time, I have the courage to look right back at Him to see if He cares about me, after all. And, I think He does. My mother is only my mother; she isn’t God.

  Okay, this is major. I know part of the reason I’m sitting here thinking I’ve been wrong about God is because of all those Bible verses that have been rolling around in my head ever since Doug asked me to help him with his homework from that rally. I even rememorized John 3:16 so I could give it to Jerry boom-boom-boom, just like that, the next time he challenged me. At least, I thought that’s why I learned the verse.

  Now, I’m not so sure. Maybe I learned that verse for me. “For God so loved me, Julie White…” The Sunday school teachers at Aunt Inga’s church always had us put in our names. I start again, “For God so loved me, Julie White that…”

  Oh, dear, I think I’m going to cry. I blink in panic. Everyone will think I’m upset that Elaine is getting married if I sit here blubbering. Then they’ll think I’m jealous, which is so not true. I stand up and walk over to the corner of the courtyard where there’s a nice stone wall to lean against. There’s a rosebush and, if I bend down, people will think I’m checking for new buds. That’ll give me time to get myself together.

  I hear footsteps.

  “Julie?”

  I look up and there is Doug.

  “Are you okay?”

  I nod and wipe away a tear from my cheek. “I’m thinking of taking that ice plunge.”

  “The one in Sweden?”

  I shake my head. “The one you took at the rally.”

  “Oh,” Doug says and then he grins. “If you need a fr
iend to take it with you, let me know.”

  I hold out my hand and he takes it.

  “Can I do it now?” I say. “I’m already down here on my knees.”

  “Sounds good to me,” he says as he kneels down beside me. “I said my prayer in front of hundreds of strangers with no one holding my hand.”

  You know, for such a big decision, you don’t really need so many words. I just asked God to make John 3:16 real in my life. Then I asked Doug if I could go to those rally meetings he’s been going to every Monday night. He said I would be welcome there.

  Then I cried a little more and Doug gave me a packet of tissues he had in his pocket. “They give us those at the meetings.”

  I dabbed at my eyes and looked over at the rest of the courtyard. The cousins all seemed to be lifting something, except for Jerry who was looking over at us.

  “Oh, no,” I say as I nod over at Jerry. “He’s going to think we’re down here on our knees looking for lost pearls.”

  “Or proposing,” Doug adds with another grin.

  “Oh, no,” I say because he’s right. That’s just how Jerry’s mind would work.

  “So, do you want to mess with his mind?” Doug asks.

  “What do you mean?”

  Doug leans over and kisses me on the forehead. “There, he won’t know what to make of that. It’s not romantic enough to be a proposal, but it’s more than just congratulations for finding some lost pearls.”

  I smile. “Oh, you’re bad.”

  Doug nods as he stands back up. “Thank you.”

  Doug lifts out a hand to me and helps me stand up. I look around just in case the aunts are watching. They would have liked to see that. It’s not often we see a gentleman in action beside a rosebush.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I wish Elaine would give me The Look about now. At least, she wouldn’t be hunched over and scowling as though she’s on the verge of tears. She is standing in her wedding dress and waiting for Gary to show up at the chapel. It is past four o’clock and the rehearsal was supposed to have already started.

  “Everyone was right,” Elaine says as she twists her shoulder to look behind herself. Her train is partially attached to the waistline of her wedding dress and Elaine has a handful of the material in one hand. “This is too heavy. It’s like I’m pulling bricks behind me.”

  I say nothing about the symbolism of that.

  “It just needs to be hooked all the way,” I say instead as I walk up to her and quickly do just that. “There.”

  I stand back. “Your dress is beautiful.”

  Elaine looks at me as if I’m teasing her and I decide I need to slow it down with the compliments. Neither one of us is used to seeing the other’s nice side.

  “I liked the sound of having a cathedral train,” Elaine said softly after a minute or so. “Just the words. I thought it would make the wedding day special. Like we’re a prince and princess.”

  I smile. “I can see that.”

  “I used to really like Gary, you know,” Elaine adds.

  I don’t think she is even aware of her use of the past tense. Maybe she meant she liked him before she loved him. I am going to ask her what she meant by that, but before I can think of a diplomatic way to do that, I hear Jerry giving a shout telling everyone that Gary is here.

  That shout puts everyone in motion. Elaine runs to wrap herself in a huge gray blanket because she doesn’t want Gary to see her dress or her veil before the actual ceremony. The soloist moves to her place beside one of the columns at the front of the chapel. I go to the door of the chapel because that’s where I make my entrance and I don’t want to be late and miss my cue.

  The rehearsal is a success. The soloist has a magnificent voice. Of course, the bride looks like a refugee with her blanket wrapped around her head. And, in my opinion, the groom looks glum enough to discourage any bride who could actually see him. If Elaine wasn’t so careful to keep all of her dress and veil hidden, she would see who she was standing next to in this rehearsal. But her eyes are in the shadows and she doesn’t seem to notice Gary is, well, maybe just a little unhappy.

  I look over at Gary’s parents. They have been watching the rehearsal from the front row of the chapel and I don’t think they could hold themselves any more rigid if they tried. I suppose they don’t approve of Elaine’s blanket. They do seem to be glaring at it a lot. At least, I hope it’s the blanket they are directing their gaze at and not Elaine herself.

  Reverend Banning, the minister from the church in Blythe, dismisses everyone from the rehearsal and I can hear the sigh of relief that goes up from everyone.

  “Now everybody just relax a little before the big event,” Reverend Banning says in the calming way he has. I’m glad Aunt Ruth asked him to come and do the ceremony. “We’ll do fine with the real thing.”

  I know Reverend Banning has been through this all a hundred times so I am going to trust that he knows what he’s talking about.

  Jerry and Doug are over making sure everything is the way they want it for the sound system. They look like as though have everything under control so I do the only thing I know I’m supposed to do now. I go to the women’s lounge to ask Elaine if she needs anything. After all, I am the combined maid of honor and bridesmaid. I should go see if Elaine needs her hooks done up again.

  Oh, and Miss Billings might be here early so she can help us all with our makeup. Reverend Banning is right. Everything will be fine.

  Elaine isn’t there when I get to the lounge, but Cassie tells me Elaine is in the kitchen talking to Aunt Ruth. I figure they need some time together so I decide to stay here and wait for Miss Billings.

  I don’t have to wait long. Miss Billings brings her makeup case and it is the size of a small suitcase. She even has a white polyester scarf to tie around a person’s neck so no face powder gets on anyone when she does the makeover.

  Cassie decided earlier I should go first because I have to go down the aisle, but we’ll have time for several people to have their makeup done. I figure, since we’re in the lounge at the front of the restroom, we’ll have all of the aunts coming by at some point later so we can ask them if they want a makeover, too.

  Our only problem when we start is that Miss Billings is too short to do someone’s eyes while the person is standing up. Even having the person sit down doesn’t work too well. It’s not until I lie on the leather sofa in the lounge that Miss Billings starts to work at her best.

  I figure we’ll do all of the makeovers this way and I hope no one’s mind goes in the direction mine is going. You know, Miss Billings working on my face when I’m lying down like the people who she is usually getting ready for their final viewing. Of course, none of the aunts know that is part of Miss Billing’s job and I’m not going to tell them.

  “I probably need different colors than I usually wear, I mean because of the brown streaks in my hair,” I say just so one of us is talking.

  “Mmm, hmm,” Miss Billings says.

  I don’t have the nerve to ask Miss Billings if she’s using any of her Pearly Pink blush on me. I’m sure my face looks a little yellow because of the orange dress I’m wearing and the brown streaks in my hair, but I do hope I don’t look bad enough to be dead.

  “Cassie will be here soon,” I say.

  After that, I keep my eyes closed.

  “There,” Miss Billings says. “You’re done.”

  Miss Billings stands up and I look in the mirror.

  “This looks good,” I say and it does. It doesn’t necessarily look like me, but I won’t scare anyone while I walk down the aisle.

  There’s not much to do once I finish my makeup. I check on Elaine and Aunt Ruth and they are still talking in the kitchen. I glance in the chapel and see that Gary and his parents are sitting on one of the back pews and talking. I don’t want to get in that conversation so I walk out to the courtyard. The caterers have put their white tablecloths on the tables and one of Jerry’s brothers has set all of the centerpiec
es on the tables. Things look very nice.

  Aunt Inga and my mother are sitting together at one of the far tables in the courtyard and looking at something. I walk over there and see that Aunt Inga has brought her scrapbook with her.

  “I would have won that track meet if I hadn’t broken my leg,” I say because I can see the newspaper clipping that they’re looking at. There was my name, right along with the winners of the race. “Isn’t there a picture of me when I had a part in the school play?”

  “Of course,” Aunt Inga says as she turns a few pages.

  My mother and Aunt Inga are beaming at those pictures of me as if I’d won prizes. The truth is, though, that I always felt a little guilty about Aunt Inga’s scrapbook since her scrapbook was always skinnier than Aunt Ruth’s or Aunt Gladys’s.

  “Maybe I’ll win something yet,” I mumble.

  “Oh, but dear,” Aunt Inga says with her cheeks still pink with the pleasure of showing her pictures. “You don’t need to win anything for us to love you.”

  “Maybe not, but it would help your scrapbook.”

  I don’t know what Aunt Inga would have said to that because we all hear a shriek coming from inside the chapel.

  I’m thinking there’s a fire or at least a loose bird flying around.

  Instead, I see Gary’s mom waving her arms around and screeching at her husband and Gary, who have come out of the chapel. One of her cheeks is a bright pink and the other is yellow so I’m wondering if someone had a heart attack. And then I see the white scarf knotted around her neck.

  “They’ve got dead people here,” Gary’s mom finally says when she stops screeching. She points a bony finger toward the lounge. “I was in there and a woman who works here offered to do a makeover for me.” Gary’s mom takes an outraged breath. “I thought if she worked in a bridal chapel, she might have some useful suggestions so I let her start. But then she said she works with dead people. Here.”

  I worry that the Big M will have one more dearly departed to worry about if Gary’s mom doesn’t wind down a little. By now, everyone has gathered. The aunts. The cousins. Doug and Cassie.