“Andy, sweetheart, it’s Mama,” Lydia cooed. “Hi baby. It’s Mama.”
“Mama,” Andy said. He sounded happy at first, then his tone quickly turned sad. “Mama? Won Mama. Won Mama.” His little voice trembled, and he started sniffling as if he were about to cry. Won Mama—Want Mama.
Lydia’s heart sank to her stomach, and her eyes automatically brimmed with unwanted tears. “Andy,” she said calmly. “Andy, sweetheart. Listen to me. Don’t cry. It’s okay. Daddy is gonna take good, good care of you. I’ll be home tomorrow, and I’m gonna kiss your booboo, and give you a million hugs. Okay? You’re alright, baby. You’re alright.” She tipped her head back to keep the threatening tears from spilling over and ruining the makeup she'd just put on. “I love you, sweetheart. I’ll be home tomorrow, just in time for dinner. I promise. Okay?”
“Mama?” Andy said. He sounded a tiny bit better. “Mama? Booboo.”
Lydia’s heart soared. He’d never uttered that word before. “I know,” she said excitedly. “I know, you fell and got a booboo, that’s right. Daddy’s gonna make it all better. Okay? Good talking, baby! You told me you got a booboo, I understand.”
“Mama,” Andy said happily, almost sounding like he was smiling.
“I love you, baby. I love you,” Lydia said. She stood and crossed the room to get back to the bathroom, found the tissues, and grabbed one. She dabbed at her eyes carefully.
Matt was back on the phone. “I thought he was gonna start crying,” he said. “But whatever you said calmed him down.”
“Matt, he said ‘booboo’, did you hear him?” she said brightly. “That’s new! He’s never said that before.”
“Huh. Really? That’s great, then,” Matt said.
“Yeah. It is. Just wish he didn’t have to get hurt to say a new word,” she said with an edge.
“Well, sometimes pain brings out unexpected things,” Matt muttered. “Good and bad.”
Lydia didn’t answer him. She knew he was talking as much about them as about their son, and didn’t want to get into it any further.
“What time are you getting back tomorrow?” Matt asked. “Just so I know.”
“Probably around five, six at the latest. You don't have to give him dinner, I will.” Lydia looked in the mirror to check her eye makeup. She sighed in relief to see it was still intact. “Look, I really have to get going. The wedding starts at five, I’m supposed to meet Donna and Kathryn—”
“Go, go, that’s fine,” he said impatiently. “We’re going to my parents’ house soon anyway. We’re having dinner there.”
“He’ll get to see Grandma and Grandpa. How nice,” she said dryly.
Matt released a caustic snicker. “They hate you too, Lydia. So at least it’s mutual.”
She swallowed hard. She’d always suspected it, but to hear Matt say it so flatly made her slightly nauseous. “Wow. So that’s where we are now, huh?”
“Come on, Lydia,” Matt scoffed. “You and I are officially divorced now. We don’t have to pretend anymore about lots of things.”
“Wonderful. I’m overjoyed. Tell them I said hello,” she said, her tone as acidic as his.
“I’ll be sure to do that,” Matt said. “Have fun at the wedding.” He hung up abruptly.
Lydia turned off her cell phone and stood very still for a minute, trying to compose herself. As was always the case when she got upset, her hands felt like blocks of ice. She could feel her blood rushing through her veins, throughout her whole body, like cold glitter was being pumped into her fingers.
She hated Matt’s parents. They hadn’t treated her nicely even before Andy had been born; but once the speech delay became noticeable when he was a toddler, and then became a full blown issue, she knew they blamed her for it, that they thought it was somehow her fault. Their ignorance and arrogance made her insides burn with rage whenever she thought of them. And now her child, her precious baby, would be exposed to them all night long. She hoped they would treat him nicely. She was sure they would badmouth her in front of Andy. Who knew what snide remarks would pass their lips, not realizing how sensitive and intuitive a child Andy truly was. Because he was speech impaired, to them, he may as well have been completely mentally disabled, and they gave him no credit for having any actual intelligence or aptitude. To them, he was like a very cute, but broken, little rag doll.
“Stop it,” she said aloud to her reflection in the mirror. Matt and his horrible parents would not ruin her night. She was far away from them, at a beautiful wedding with cherished friends, and was there to enjoy herself. She would not give them any more power over her. At least not tonight, she swore.
She took three deep breaths, released them slowly, and looked at herself in the mirror again. Her hair was done, her makeup had survived the emotional phone call, it was as good as it was going to get. Then she realized she was standing there in her underwear. “Ah, crap!” she cried, turning quickly to leave the bathroom, realizing she might actually be late. She flew to the closet and quickly shimmied into the dress she’d purchased especially for the wedding, then went to examine herself in the full length mirror in the bathroom.
“Hmm,” she said. “Not bad.” The dress was elegant and feminine, and possibly the most beautiful dress she’d ever bought for herself. She couldn’t believe she’d found it at Nordstrom for just under two hundred dollars, but there it had been, and she’d taken it. The color was what had drawn her to the dress in the first place. Although the tag called it “currant”, she would have just said burgundy, a deep shade of it that flattered her skin, her eyes, her hair, all of it. It was a silk chiffon dress with an inset waist, above a twirly A-line skirt that went down to her ankle. The softly gathered sleeveless bodice had ruchéd shoulders, like the waist, and a flattering V-neck that dipped enough to display her pale, creamy skin. It hinted at her ample breasts beneath, but without exposing too much cleavage and seeming vulgar. It was cut perfectly for her figure.
She slipped into the low, strappy black heels that her best friend had insisted were a perfect match for the dress, and turned to the mirror again for the final overall result. A small, delighted smile of surprise touched her mouth. She had to admit it: she looked pretty good.
She quickly applied a sheer coat of gloss across her lipsticked lips, fixed her hair with her fingers one last time, and went to get the small black handbag she’d used the night before. She opened it to check that she’d put her peppermints in there, and dug one out to chew on as she quickly put on her delicate, dangly diamond earrings. One spray of perfume. With that, she turned out the lights and quickly made her way to the lobby.
She only made it midway down the main staircase when she heard Donna’s voice boom, “There you are! Come on, move it, woman!”
“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” Lydia apologized as she hurried across the lobby to meet her friends.
“Oh my God,” Kathryn said, looking Lydia over. “You look gorgeous!”
“Thanks,” Lydia said absently, her mind still unfocused from the phone call.
Donna smirked. “Honey, wait ‘til Sam sees you. He’s gonna pass out.”
Lydia made a face, a cross between a scowl and plain disbelief. “Yeah, right.”
Donna shook her head. “Well, that much hasn’t changed since college. You never knew how pretty you were, and you still don’t. What a shame.”
“Now you sound like my sister,” Lydia cracked, uncomfortable with the compliments. “Come on, let’s go, we have five minutes thanks to me. Or,” she added as the three of them began to walk towards the back doors of the lobby, “should I say, thanks to my asshat ex-husband.”
“Oh no,” Kathryn said, concern crossing her face. “What happened?”
“I was getting ready and he called,” Lydia said, following her friends through the dining room to the patio beyond. “Stirred me up a little.”
“That asshat,” Donna cursed. “Nice timing. What’d he want?”
“Is Andy okay?” Kathryn immed
iately asked.
“See? That was my first thought too,” Lydia said. They exited through huge French doors and made their way across the veranda to the staircase that led down to the garden. “Andy was okay, and he wasn’t. He fell, he was tired, so he was missing me. And Asshole decides to call and put me on the phone with him right when I had to leave.”
“Of course he did,” Donna snarled.
“Andy heard my voice and almost started crying, so of course I almost started crying,” Lydia said. “Then Matt got back on and had a few choice parting shots before he hung up on me. It was wonderful.”
Donna stopped short, which made the other two women stop short. “Okay,” she said in a commanding voice, her gaze stern. “We are about to watch our dear, beloved friend get married. We are here for a happy occasion. We are now officially putting Matt out of our heads for the next few hours so we can enjoy the festivities. We are now in an asshat free zone, got it?”
“Fantastic idea,” Lydia enthused.
“Deep breath,” Donna ordered. Lydia did as she was told. “I really love the color of this dress,” Donna added. She reached out and touched the fabric of Lydia’s shoulder. “Oooh, silky. Love it.”
“I’m sorry, you two,” Lydia said. “From here on, only happy thoughts. And you both look beautiful, by the way.”
“Oh shut up,” Donna laughed. “I’m a big lady in a big black dress. How original.” She fidgeted with the draped cowl neckline of her fit-and-flare dress. “And this keeps bothering me. I don’t know how it’s supposed to be laying, I keep messing with it.”
“Well stop, because it’s fine, and you do look beautiful,” Kathryn said.
“Says you, the Greek goddess,” Donna retorted. Kathryn was draped in a navy Grecian-inspired gown with a crisscrossed bodice, a single shoulder strap over her left shoulder, and a full-length fluid skirt. It was loose, airy, and elegant in its simplicity. Kathryn looked almost regal.
“I do love your dress,” Lydia told Kathryn. “First class, lovey.” Kathryn smiled in return.
“Okay, great, we’re all stunning supermodels,” Donna said. “Let’s get seats before the bride comes down the aisle, alright?”
Lydia laughed as they approached the area where the ceremony would be. About two hundred white folding chairs had been set up, one hundred on either side of a long white fabric runner that led down the aisle. It led to an ivy and rose covered arch at the front, which overlooked the brilliant, blazing trees that lay just beyond it. Long draping pieces of white tulle lined either side, connected by white pillars and bouquets of white and peach roses every few rows. Pale peach and white rose petals were scattered along the path of the long runner.
“Oh, this is just beautiful,” Kathryn cooed.
“It really is,” Donna agreed. “It’s magnificent. Good for her.”
“Yeah.” Lydia smiled. She looked around. “Which is the bride’s side?”
“This side, ladies,” said a tuxedoed man, apparently an usher, who gestured to the right. He handed them light paper programs and led them halfway down the aisle to an empty row. They filed in quietly and took seats.
Lydia fidgeted with her dress, smoothing it out beneath her bottom to try to avoid wrinkling it. She noticed that Kathryn, as always, appeared composed and serene as she sat still, waiting quietly. She noticed that Donna, who sat between her and Kathryn, was craning her head and looking over curiously at the groom’s side of guests; she seemed to be searching for something.
“What are you looking for?” Lydia asked her quietly.
“Sam, of course,” Donna said. “I want to see his face when he sees you for the first time, sees how gorgeous you look.”
“Oh God,” Lydia muttered, shaking her head. “You need a hobby.”
“I have one now: helping you get out of your own way tonight.” Donna’s large dark eyes, sparkling with amusement, went back to Lydia’s face. “It’ll be a short lived hobby, but one that will be unbelievably entertaining in the short run, and unbelievably fulfilling in the long run.”
“You’re insane,” Lydia laughed, but squeezed Donna’s hand all the same. She was slightly embarrassed by Donna’s blatant tactics and blunt words, but touched by the genuine kindness of spirit behind them.
At precisely five o’clock, a hush fell over the crowd as music started to play. The DJ who was working the wedding reception had discreetly set up a sound system outside, and placed several small speakers around the area where the guests sat. The old Motown classic “You’re All I Need” by Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell, came clearly through the air as Ryan appeared.
“Ah, there’s Ryan,” Lydia cooed to her friends. The groom, radiating pure joy and serenity, walked confidently down the aisle with a huge smile on his face.
“He looks so happy,” Kathryn sighed.
“Armani tux,” Donna noted. “Nice.”
“How the hell would you know that?” Lydia demanded.
“I know these things,” Donna assured her. Lydia rolled her eyes and grinned.
Melanie’s parents then appeared at the end of the runner and began their walk down the aisle.
“God, I’ve always loved this song,” Lydia whispered.
“Me too,” Donna agreed. “Pamela and Roger look good!”
“Yeah, I thought so too,” Lydia nodded.
Melanie’s parents kept their eyes ahead, got to the end of the long aisle, and were escorted to the end seats of the front row on the right. Ryan’s parents immediately made their way down the aisle, then were seated on the left.
“Wedding party?” Donna asked in a whisper.
“Just a Best Man and a Matron of Honor,” Lydia whispered back.
“Good for them,” Kathryn approved. “We’re too old for that stuff.”
“Good for us,” Donna quipped. “Makes the ceremony shorter.”
Lydia giggled and jokingly elbowed Donna in her side.
Alec—tuxedoed, attractive, exuding self-confidence—strode down the aisle with a woman on his arm that Lydia recognized as Joann, Melanie’s best friend since junior high school. Joann had gained some weight since the last time Lydia had seen her—who of us hasn’t? Lydia thought wryly—but looked beautiful in a simple sheath dress of deep violet. She had her left arm through Alec’s, and in her right hand, she held a small bouquet of white and lavender roses.
“Joann, right?” Donna asked in a whisper after they’d passed.
Lydia nodded. “And that’s Alec, Sam’s older brother, Ryan’s best friend.”
Donna gave Alec a quick study. “They look a little bit alike,” she said, watching Alec as he and Joann parted. Alec moved to the left, Joann to the right, and they stood by the arch to wait. “But Sam’s better looking.”
“I think so too,” Lydia admitted in a whisper.
“Shhh,” Kathryn scolded them with a teasing smile.
Just as the tempo of the song took off, the singers’ voices lifting jubilantly, Melanie appeared at the end of the aisle. She was resplendent in a simple, strapless princess dress of white satin. She was smiling from ear to ear, glowing from within. Clutching her bouquet of white and lavender roses, she practically floated down the aisle towards her groom.
“God, look at her,” Donna breathed. “She’s magnificent.”
“I’m going to cry,” Kathryn whispered, sniffing back tears.
Lydia felt an overwhelming gladness for her friend radiate throughout her core. Melanie had been through so much in her life; she richly deserved this moment of complete joy. Lydia felt tears sting her eyes too.
Melanie noticed her three college friends as she passed them, and winked. They all smiled back gloriously, their eyes shining.
At the end of the aisle, under the ivy and rose covered arch, Melanie took Ryan’s outstretched hand just as the festive, exuberant song was at its soaring crescendo. They smiled at each other as if they would burst from happiness. It was such an uplifting moment that Lydia got chills, and wrapped her arms around hersel
f to rub away her goose bumps.
The ceremony was short but meaningful. When Ryan grasped his bride to kiss her, the assembled guests erupted into applause and raucous cheers.
After the small wedding party went back down the aisle, past the garden towards the main building, the guests began to stand, disperse, and follow.
“Melanie told me the cocktail hour would be held on that huge stone patio,” Lydia told her friends, gesturing towards it. “So that’s our next destination.”
“Let’s go party, then!” Donna smiled broadly, linking one arm through each of her friends’.
The wedding guests milled leisurely through the garden, along the lawn, up to the patio. The DJ had set up his equipment there too, and Frank Sinatra was swinging along through the speakers by the time guests made their way there. Waiters and waitresses were making rounds with silver trays that held tall flutes of champagne and various delicious looking hors d’oeuvres. There were all sorts of delicacies to sample: chicken kabobs, oyster shooters, goat cheese tarts, tempura shrimp, brie and pear wrapped up, miniature crab cakes; there were also long tables that offered a tremendous crudités, an expansive cheese display, a caviar table, a sushi bar, and a seafood bar on ice.
“Oh. My. God,” Donna said, looking at all the food presented. “Wow. I’m seriously impressed. And completely overwhelmed. Where do we start?”
“Who needs dinner?” Kathryn laughed. “I’m filling up on all of this stuff.”
“I always do that anyway,” Lydia admitted. “The cocktail hour food is almost always better than the main entrée.”
“Oh. Ohhh. Hold on to your hats,” Donna announced in a wicked tone. Her eyes had suddenly locked on the stone staircase that led up from the garden. A catlike grin spread onto her face. “Wow. Let the games begin.”
“What?” Lydia asked, confused.
Kathryn followed Donna’s gaze and smiled. “My oh my. Now that is a handsome man.”
Across the patio, Henry and Marcy Forrester had walked up the stairs side by side with Ryan’s parents, Bill and Maryann Selby. Right behind them were Paige and Alec, their three children, and Sam. Lydia turned to see who her friends were talking about just as Sam helped usher his young nephew onto the top step.
Autumn Getaway (Seasons of Love) Page 13