by Mia Natasha
“Not like that, like this, you flying monkeys!” I said forcing their respective arms to bend into a triangular formation.
“Like this?” Dean kept moving his arm all over the place and I swear he was going to either hit me in the nose with it or flap off to the witch’s castle. Come to think, he reminded me of the claymation Titan in Clash of the Titans, which is Dad’s second favorite movie. When Dean hadn’t been flailing his arm, he was wiping sweat from his brow with his polo shirt, thus flashing his six-pack for all the world to see.
“Stop being such a Kraken!” I yelled finally. I’ve always been better at tricking Dean into taking blame for our tiffs in front of witnesses, being the girl and all, but not this time. I know Gina, who was standing at the head of the bridesmaid row, had never seen that side of me, and I’d never been deliberately rude in public, especially in front of children. I wished I had supplied earmuffs as attendant gifts to the two flower girls and the little ring bearer, Tommy Minos.
“Calm down, Dani,” Mom said. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Yes it is, Mom,” I said. “It’s a simple case of are you or aren’t you uncouth?” I had turned to stare into Dean’s eyes when I’d said it. I must have looked like Medusa to him with my new green contact lenses in my brown eyes.
“A Titan against a Titan,” he said. I think smoke came out of my ears, I seriously remember feeling it. I was becoming my own Japanese animé equivalent of a Greek monster, like in that DVD from Japan that Zeus gave me to watch - and in my movie, Dean’s animé would have taken a fatal karate chop to the skull.
This nonsense went on for another five minutes or so while Zeus passed out the monogrammed flasks to his other ten ushers instead of waiting until the dinner party in the Cassiopeia Room at Eli’s, where we’d planned an intimate dinner for fifty - under the fiber-optic ceiling depicting the constellations of Orion’s Belt.
Instead of arguing further, Demetrios decided to concede, when Mom couldn’t figure out how she would hold her clutch purse. It kept slipping and she had to detach herself from him to pick it up. It looked stupid.
I had almost wanted to forgo this practice session, thinking it was going to be a waste of time, because we’ve all been to dozens of weddings and watched them on TV. It’s not brain surgery or anything. It’s not even modeling. But for some reason when you’re involved, it seems like a lot to remember, I guess, especially to people who aren’t getting paid to comply with your demands of them. It’s like being in a school play or something.
Uncle Yanni had a couple bottles of Ouzo, and it seemed everyone in the wedding party partook in a shot or two, including the ushers, who had already been drinking whiskey from their flasks. Not sure where they found the shot glasses. I hope Daisy Metropolis didn’t have any, because she’s only fifteen. I was beginning to think none of them would remember their positions and my wedding would end up being the kind that wins awards for disastrous consequences on America’s Funniest Videos.
Demetrios returned to his position beside Zeus who looked completely relaxed and happy in his light-colored suit and crisp white shirt. My brother and his wife, Penelope, are the koumbari. It was supposed to be Zeus’ cousins, Ned and Nike Zepkos from Sydney, Australia, but they decided they couldn’t make it because there had been a death in Nike’s family. Needless to say, but it would have been a hassle having transcontinentals as koumbari, especially when it comes time to baptizing our kids. People can’t come and go, back and forth from Australia. It’s so expensive, although Ned’s a pilot for Qantas so – was it an omen thingy?
When I saw Penny Elinopoulous standing there all preggy-preggers, I thought – was this a bad idea? Should I wear Mrs. Zepkos’ evil eye on Sunday instead of that beautiful treasure Zeus gifted me with yesterday? I got a little freaked, especially in light of what I had told you before, remember? About the towering inferno candles and the accidents that occur due to negligence? Penny could have a contraction or something, and I’d burn just like the Scarecrow did at the end of The Wizard of Oz. Demetrios wasn’t even bothering to practice with his candle.
“Are you going to be okay?” I asked Penny. She was standing in front of my father and me, waiting for the priest to call her down the aisle.
“Of course, I am. I’m only six months along, Danna. I’m not going to pop quite yet,” she said. “But I don’t think I’m going to be able to make it to Manhattan with you and the girls. I should rest up for Sunday.”
I said, “To be honest with you, Pen, I’m concerned about the candles. They give me the creeps. Maybe we should ditch them. It’s not even lit and you keep moving it around like you’re not even watching it. What if….”
“It’s too hot right now, hon,” she said, dismissively, I thought, as though I was her little sister too even though we’re the same age. “I’m not watching it. Trust me. It’ll be okay. You just have the jitters.” She squeezed my free arm.
“Okay, koumbara. You’re up. Nice and slow,” Father Phillip ordered. “Wait a minute. Where’s the other candle?”
“Coming,” Demetrios shouted from the altar. He raced around the side aisle and grabbed the other candle sitting on the back pew, nearly plowing over Dad and me on his way to hand it to his wife, missing us by a hair using soccer player agility, I guess, but offering a breeze of sweaty hot air in the process.
It was time for me to walk down the aisle on the arm of my father.
“Let’s blow this pop-sickle stand,” Dad said. I found it so odd coming from him, especially as devout a Christian and all. It was almost as though he was making a joke out of this very serious business. He must have heard that on TV, like on the Simpsons or something.
As we walked down the aisle, my rendition of Crazy for You filled the venue through the surround sound hiding in the wooden pews. Normally, the priest doesn’t allow music, but we had to make an exception and tape the choir, since Mom is the soloist and I didn’t want her doing double duty. So it was the wrong tape. I’d brought both tapes because they weren’t labeled. Dean was supposed to have figured it out in the car on the way over but he was probably listening to his iPod instead. “Sorry!” someone shouted from the balcony. I stopped, thinking we’d do a do-over - and Dad didn’t. He just kept walking. I nearly fell over.
“Come on,” he commanded.
I said, “Dad, it’s the wrong music.”
“So what?” he said and we continued to where Zeus stood waiting, smiling as though he was about to be married for real. I’m sure my face had the makings of a scowl.
The little flower girls danced by the candelabras. Tanya Ares started spinning faster like a figure skater about to perform the Hamill-camel then hit her head on the front pew – not that hard or anything but she started to cry and her mother, Caroline, had to leave her place in the bridesmaid line to comfort her.
I began sweating in my silk maxi dress. I could feel my hoo-ha melting in a bad way. I thought, when I sit down in this dress, I’ll never be able to get back up without the humiliation of a wet spot. I tried to put it all out of my head and focus on my beloved and his dreamy brown eyes, but emotion had gotten the best of me.
Dad started to walk behind me. “What are you doing?” I screamed.
“What’s the matter with you?” he said. “What’s with the tirade? Young lady, you’ve wanted this every day of your life for the last fifteen years. What do you think I’m doing? I’m handing you over to your husband.”
He didn’t get it. “Dad if you walk behind me, you’ll step on my train.”
“What’s that?”
“The back of my dress!” I shouted. “My wedding dress has a long back part. It’s called a train.”
“Oh excuse me, I didn’t see it there. It’s like Wonder Woman’s invisible plane,” he said and laughed at his own joke. “I won’t do that come Sunday. That dress cost a pretty penny.” He turned to look at my pregnant sister-in-law. “No offense, Penny. You’re a pretty Penny too.” Everyone laughed except for me.
> Then Dad stepped on my foot when he crossed in front of me to shake Zeus’ hand as he pretended to hand me over to him. He laughed it all off like one of those buffoon clowns at the circus, as I felt my toes swell. I guess no matter how much you practice, and how many years you live in this country, you can’t always take the old country out of someone, I thought.
I’m sorry, that was mean and I shouldn’t have been thinking it. I love my father very much, both of my parents. I had just wanted everything to be sophisticated and elegant-like, you know? I’m still smarting from the whole thing. It’s like when you get really angry and you can’t come down from it. Your voice gets high, and you’re still yelling even though the ordeal is over. One thing is for sure, I’m not going to wear the veil over my face. I don’t want Dad to think it’s an invisible plane and forget to lift it. I’d end up as the mythological cartoon villain at my own wedding, fuming from under the shroud.
When Zeus and I held hands at the altar and looked into each other’s eyes, my anger turned to something worse. Tears formed in my eyes. I couldn’t stop thinking about the day before, when he’d made that romantic gesture with the necklace and such. And I had one of those weird flashes, you know, like before you die and you see your whole life before your eyes. My mind did a montage of our lives together and it was every bit as wonderful as that slide show Zeus had created for his parents’ anniversary. He was the perfect man and I didn’t deserve him. What was I doing? I thought - who am I? Am I a good girl or her evil twin? Why did I do something to jeopardize what I have with Zeus Archimedes Zepkos? Why did I want to put some Madge in Danna? Why? I felt out of control, thinking I’d destroyed my future somehow and everyone knew it – except Zeus.
He smiled at me and my hooey started to pull an I’m-on-fire routine like a lawn mower that fires up via push button. This time it itched with desire for fucky-wuck, like a necessary hysterical need as though I had to ensnare him with my naughty puss-puss in order to find my way back to the nook.
I was aware of the G-rated nature of the venue, aware of everyone in the room, but still - I wanted to rub my face against Zeus’ beard and hump-a-bump with him right in front of everyone. I started imagining our options. We could have called a time out and done it behind the altar. Zeus could have lifted me onto the baptismal bowl and sanctified me with his blessed jizz. But obviously, that didn’t happen. Girls aren’t allowed behind the altar curtain.
Father Phillip began taking us through the service in English. When he asked if there was any reason why we should not be wed, Chad Mavis’ tape began to waft through the speakers again. It was Madonna’s voice singing to me.
I can’t carry these sins on my back
I can’t carry anymore….
“Sorry,” that same voice shouted from the rafters.
“Well, Dani?” Zeus asked as he kissed my engagement-ringed hand, which I couldn’t control from shaking.
“What?” Guilt replaced the sweat in my pores. The air conditioning kicked on at last and a cold shiver hit my neck and traveled to the tip of my booty-boot.
“Is there anything I should know?” he added.
At least I think that’s what he’d said, because that’s when my eyes kind of went all hazy, as though they were rejecting the vanity contacts, and my legs turned to Jello. I fainted into my fiancé’s arms.
Later, at the dinner party, after eating a huge portion of Prime Rib that Dad had prepared for me (despite my plan to keep my hooey veggie fresh) - to say sorry for changing the wedding reception dinner menu on me - I apologized to everyone for my behavior.
“It must have been the heat,” I said, and they all seemed to agree. I still felt haunted by the bad vibes, thinking it had been me tempting fate, not the ghost of some young god casting an evil eye over me or happenstance. Liquor helped. It helped a lot.
Dean and Demetrios surprised me with their loving speeches.
“To my beautiful little sister, Dannika,” Demetrios said. “I hope your life is filled with everything we Elinopoulouses treasure. Family, food and fun. Lots of fun. And Zeus, we’ve loved you like a brother for all these years, and we’re blessed to welcome you into our family. With love and respect.”
Dean’s speech shocked me more. “Dani,” he said, “We’ve had our share of arguments over the years, like that time I stole your Madonna album and you retaliated by hiding the X-box until I gave it back. Then we ended up bonding over both. I know the lyrics to Cherish, and you can kick my ass in Mortal Kombat. Zeus, you’ve got a good woman there. Cherish her love. And welcome to the family!”
Soon we were all dancing on tables, breaking plates and drinking well into the night.
I’m only just up now because I had to type this then get ready for the bachelorette party, otherwise I would have slept the day away. Gina and the girls are taking me to New York City. We’re taking a limo to the Marriott Hotel. Everybody knows it’s my absolute favorite hotel. Whenever I come to Manhattan, I always enjoy riding their glass elevators, even if I’m only there on a shopping day trip. It’s free and it’s just super-duper colossally fun - and Toto too. You should definitely try it sometime if you’ve never been.
Zeus and his friends, including my brothers, are heading to Manhattan to party as well. They’ll be staying somewhere near 42nd Street I believe. When we did the same thing for Demetrios’ wedding, the girls and guys met up at midnight for a night cap, but we don’t have plans for that.
I have tentatively made other plans before bed, as you know, but…I don’t know. I’m not sure that I should go through with this fuck like Madonna sex journey. This omen thingy is really freaking me out. I’m such a lucky girl, I cannot afford a luck-fuck, which is a fuck that fucks up your luck. I need to talk to Gina – pronto. But first, I need a Bloody Mary or two, because more alcohol is supposed to help when you have a hangover, right? Everyone always says so – or is it Advil and fluids? Maybe a Virgin Mary is what I’m desperately seeking. Help me, Madonna, wherever you are.
Comments: 4
You have to do this, Dani. It’ll all work out. We’ll talk later. Gina, Schenectady, NY
Take omens seriously. They are messages from god. Irina Pelestova, Russian Federation
I shall correspond with you after the honeymoon. Would very much like to option the rights to your story. You are quite intriguing, Dannika. R. Jeffrries, Sherman Oaks, CA
I’m all in. Rob, NY, NY
****
Great and Powerful Truth or Dare
Sunday, August 30, 2009 - 1:00pm
After I wrote yesterday’s blog entry, I called Zeus. I had just wanted to hear his voice, you know, to say hi or whatever. I kind of wanted to hear what the guys had planned. Would they be anywhere near the Marriott in Times Square? My call went straight to voice mail, which indicated that Zeus had either already left on his bachelor fun night or he was sticking to our plan of no contact before the wedding, or both. This was the longest we had gone without having a hooey-pricker connection since before we started to wham-bam. It felt weird, hollow in there, I guess. My poor pinky-pinkerson felt neglected by the big kazoo. I didn’t like that. I knew it was going to be only one more day of this, but still. Had he just popped it in when I came to in his arms on the floor of the altar, it would have been better than the kiss he’d planted on my lips, for which we received applause from the witnesses. A fucksy would have been much better than what Zeus had said afterwards.
“Are you alright?”
God, I hate hearing that phrase. I know – it’s concern and such. But it’s just so embarrassing. Mom had gotten me a glass of orange juice from the church hall kitchenette. She kneeled down, handed it over and yelled, “Are you pregnant?”
Everyone heard.
“No, Mom,” I said then lowered my voice. “I just had my period if you must know.” She crossed herself, as though I’d just been exorcised of demons.
“You sure you’re okay?” Zeus said. I had wanted to disappear. Kind of hoped something else could happe
n to someone else to throw the humiliation spotlight on them – not that I wanted Tanya Ares to start spinning around again or anything - she already had an icepack on her head. Eventually we all got back into our places and finished the rehearsal, and as I mentioned, progressed to the dinner party where we had fun, as we always do when we’re together.
I hadn’t really wanted to bachelorette party-on at all, to be honest. I’d just wanted to snuggle up in a full fetal and lay on the couch until Sunday afternoon. Sitting there and staring at my wedding gown until it was time to wear it would have been fine, but it was at Mom and Dad’s, because I had planned to get dressed there since my old room has better lighting for the photo opportunities. I think I had transformed into one of those whiny girlfriends that nobody likes.
I needed to get out of that funk. So I got dressed and drove over to the high school to run the bleacher stairs for the last time as Dannika Elinopoulous, Madonna protégé, I thought. I pretended that Madonna was right by my side working out with me, which had been easy to do with her music filling my headphoned ears. Then I came home, showered and readied myself for the limousine pick up.
The car picked me up last except for Penny, but she had already cancelled on us at the last minute. Daisy wasn’t with us either – too young, nor were the Perikali twins, who had a college lacrosse practice they couldn’t miss. So the eight remaining bridesmaids had squeezed onto the long leather cushion that curved around to one side, leaving the other side free to access the bar.
“Hi Danna!” three said in unison – Krissy Michaels, my high school bestie, and Janey Jackson and Georgia Stevenson from college. The other five held wide smiles to their lips. My two cousins, Mykkie Stevens, and Caroline Ares, wearing a denim halter dress exactly like the one I’d worn the other day, were sipping Diet Cokes and dipping into the snacks - trail mix, pretzels, bananas and Starbursts, the same ones we’d brought when some of us road tripped to visit the wine trail.