Strangers

by A. L. Parks

  "I am happy I'm getting married. I'm just not happy to get married here." But Charlotte had not heard Abby's response. She was too busy admonishing Abby for walking too slowly. Each step Abby took brought her closer to the building that she had not stepped foot into since a week after her non-wedding day. The heaviness of the air as she pulled it into her clenched lungs, dragged her down, and made it nearly impossible to walk. She had not been joking with Bryce. She did not want to get married in a big church wedding, especially not this church. But Bryce had seemed happy when Charlotte rambled on about the plans for the August 14th wedding. Abby's heart sank; three more months of picking flowers, finding a dress, and trying not to kill her mother. It was going to be a long, hot summer.

  A car turned into the parking lot, and Abby recognized Bryce's Mercedes. "I'll wait for Bryce, Mom. We'll meet you inside." Charlotte nodded, as Abby turned and walked towards the car. Her heart pounded harshly against her ribs with ever step she took towards Bryce. She forced the tears to stay at the back of her eyes, although it was a battle she knew she would eventually lose. As soon as she reached him, she put her arms around his waist and buried her head into his neck.

  "Is your mother driving you crazy already?" Bryce asked; his voice light and happy with no hint of the heaviness Abby felt.

  "Bryce, I haven't been here since Trevor's funeral."

  He grasped her around the shoulders and pulled her back so that he could see her. Worry lines crossed his forehead, and a grim line replaced the smile from a moment before. "I'm here, Abby. You're not alone, okay? And if you want to leave at any time - we leave."

  The heaviness began to lift, and Abby felt the cold shivers replaced by warmth. Slowly turning, they walked towards the church. But Abby could not rid herself of the dark premonition that she and Bryce would never be married in this church.

  Charlotte was already in a deep discussion with Father Benson when Abby and Bryce joined them. Introducing Bryce, Abby shifted uncomfortably in the spot Trevor's casket had stood.

  "Abby," Father Benson began, "we have not seen you here in a while." Abby fought every urge to remind the aging priest that it had actually been five years, and that the last time she was here, it was to memorialize the man she never had the chance to marry in this cold mausoleum he called a house. Instead, she just smiled, as Bryce struck up a conversation about how long the priest had been at the church.

  Moving to the pews, Bryce and Abby sat behind Charlotte and the priest, as they turned and faced them. "So, Abby, you have already been through much of this, so it will really just be a refresher course for you.” Father Benson rambled on as he shuffled through his papers. Abby tried to swallow the growing lump in her throat. Bryce squeezed her hand, and offered a small smile in support.

  Twenty minutes later, an elderly woman approached them, and Father Benson introduced her as Mrs. Bailey, who worked in the office. She would give them a tour of the church, and inform the couple of the procedures and rules for the ceremony. Abby paid little attention to what was going on around her. She felt herself being pulled toward something dark in her soul, and was fighting to maintain some semblance of sanity. All she wanted to do was run from the church, and never return. And she absolutely did not want to marry Bryce here.

  "Everyone in our family has been married in that church, Abby," her mother had reminded her when Abby had floated the idea of not having the ceremony there. Charlotte was a master at manipulating her children; and guilt was the number one tool in her arsenal. Abby sighed as she looked at the hurt in her mother's eyes, and acquiesced.

  Abby had been lead through the various areas of the church she had grown up exploring. Without realizing it, they had made their way to the Bride's Room, and were preparing to enter. Abby stopped abruptly outside the doorway. Everyone turned toward her.

  "Oh, Abby, it looks like they have remodeled it some in the last five years," Abby's mother attempted to encourage her daughter into the room. Mrs. Bailey nodded her confirmation, and began explaining what had been updated since Abby learned Trevor had been in a car accident and was at the emergency room.

  Bryce leaned in and whispered, "You okay?"

  Abby could only shake her head, fighting to hold back tears.

  "Okay, let's go," Bryce offered, as he turned her towards the main church doors.

  Abby stopped him, "I just need some air, Bryce. Can you finish up with Mom and Mrs. Bailey?"

  "You're sure?" he asked, his voice soft.

  Abby nodded, "I'll meet you out front." Abby pushed open the door and welcomed the warm late May sun on her face. She made it down the steps, and leaned up against the retaining wall for support. Her mind raced, as she tried to drag air into her lungs and breathe normally. How would she ever be able to enter that room again, wait patiently for the ceremony to start? Why was she unable to have the wedding she wanted; small and intimate and somewhere other than this damn church?

  Charlotte and Bryce came down the steps and stopped in front of her. Fishing in her purse for keys and sunglasses, Charlotte said, "Perhaps you should come to church more often, and get used to being here again, Abby. You and Bryce could come with your father and me on Sundays." Abby looked at Bryce who shrugged and nodded.

  "Yeah, I guess we could," Abby agreed, drawn closer to that dark place she was trying to avoid.

  Abby sat at the dining room table in her parent’s home, and looked petulantly at the pile of wedding invitations that filled the surface. Clara and Courtney were there, as they had been five years earlier, in the same exact spots, addressing the elaborately scrolled and imprinted invitations to the same exact people. Abby had yet to address any of the cream colored envelopes, but had managed to down half a bottle of wine on her own. After she refilled her glass, she sat back in her chair, and glared at the piles in front of her.

  Courtney glanced at her. "What's up with you, Abby?" After Becca, Courtney was one of her closest friends.

  "I don't know," Abby sighed heavily. "I just can't seem to get into planning this wedding." Charlotte's voice called out from the kitchen, and Clara got up to find out what her mother needed, and left Abby and Courtney to talk privately.

  "Is it the wedding, or are you having second thoughts about marrying Bryce?" Courtney asked as she licked the flap of an envelope, and grimaced as the aftertaste of the glue hit her taste buds.

  "Oh, no, I want to marry Bryce more than anything. I just want to be married to him. I don't want all this crap," Abby picked up an envelope and tossed it across the table in exasperation.

  "So, what do you want?" Courtney's attention was focused on properly addressing the envelope in front of her to Charlotte's exact specifications. Charlotte had been very detailed in her instructions regarding every envelope looking uniform, and being legible.

  "I want something small, just close family and friends. And I really, really do not want to get married at St. Anthony's." Abby took a large drink from her wine glass.

  "And have you talked to Bryce about how you feel?" Courtney stopped writing and just stared at Abby.

  "He knows I'm having a hard time even going into that church. I have suggested a couple of times that we could just go to Vegas. But I think he really wants the big wedding; I mean, he goes along with everything she says," Abby throws her thumb over her shoulder towards the kitchen where Charlotte was busying herself placing birdseed in little rounds of colored tulle.

  Courtney grabbed Abby's arm, and her attention, "Talk to Bryce, Abby. Maybe he thinks this is what you want, and would be just as happy with a small wedding." Abby nodded her head, as she emptied her wine glass again.

  Charlotte entered the dining room an hour later to check the progress of the women, as Abby pulled the cork on another bottle of wine. She had still not addressed a single invitation to her own wedding.

  "I thought you girls would have made a little more headway than this," Charlotte remarked. "Abby, seeing as this is your wedding, perhaps you could drink less wine, and address more envel
opes?" The smugness in her mother's voice set Abby on edge. She narrowed her eyes and grabbed an envelope from the pile, and pulled the cap from the black pen with her teeth.

  As she snagged the list of invitees that her mother had prepared, Abby sarcastically retorted, "Well, let's see. Who is next on the list? Dr. Hemsworth and his fucking wife." Abby recited as she wrote the names on the inner envelope, "Dickhead and Bitchface." Picking up the envelope, and regarding her handiwork, she turned her head toward her mother, "There. How's that? Good? Penmanship acceptable, Mother?"

  Charlotte's mouth gaped, as shock filled the woman's face. "You ungrateful girl! We are all here trying to help you, so that you can have a beautiful wedding day."

  Abby stood quickly, and her chair tumbled over. "This is not my wedding, Mother! It's your second chance. Show everyone that sad little Abby is okay. There is nothing about this wedding that is mine. You have made all the decisions, and have not bothered to listen to anything I have said."

  "I have been trying to give you the wedding of your dreams, Abby. The wedding you were denied last time." Charlotte folded her arms across her chest, defiantly, but in defense.

  "Denied? Trevor died, Mother! I'm so sorry his death got in the way of your big fancy party, and that you have had to endure years of disappointment at having an unmarried daughter! But all this? None of it has anything to do with me. Bryce and I are just the stars of the show, but this is YOUR party - and don't think I don't know it."

  Abby and her mother faced each other, and glared, challenging the other to speak.

  Finally, Charlotte’s faced broke, and tears come to her eyes. Abby had always been amazed at how her mother could produce tears on command. “All I wanted – all I have ever wanted

  – was for my children to be happy, and to have a beautiful start to their marriages. Just like your father and I had.”

  “Don’t give me that crap, Mother. You love the big production. You have to have the perfect wedding, since YOU were denied it when Trevor rudely died in the middle of your big show. You have spent your life trying to keep up with the Jones’, without one ounce of consideration for your children.”

  Courtney rose from her seat slowly, and stood behind Abby. "Okay, why don't I take Abby home?" Charlotte's hand went to her mouth, as tears streamed down her face. Abby let out a very audible, loud, exasperated sigh, grabbed her purse, and headed out the front door with Courtney following behind her.

  The ride back to Abby's apartment was quiet. Abby peered out the window, trying to think coherently through the excessive amount of wine she had consumed. She had never spoken to her mother that way, and she felt a pang of guilt for her actions. That also pissed Abby off, since she also felt the lashing was way overdue. But the bottom line was that Abby was going to be forced to have the wedding of her mother’s dreams.

  Stopping in front of the building, Courtney pulled out her cell phone. "Hey, Bryce. I'm double parked outside of the building. Abby has had a little too much wine, and needs some help getting up the stairs..."

  Bryce gingerly lowered Abby onto the couch, before heading into the kitchen for a glass of water, and the bottle of aspirin. Dropping two tablets into her hand, he passed her the water. "Things not go well tonight?"

  "Do they ever when my mother and I are together?" Abby answered. Closing her eyes and leaning back into the couch, she begged, "Can we just go to Vegas? You, me...an Elvis impersonator? Please?!"

  Bryce chuckled and moved onto the couch next to her, pulling her against his chest. "It will be over before you know it, Abby. Weddings are stressful, especially between mothers and daughters. Hang in there and we will be happily married before you know it, and you will be wishing you could go back and do it all over again."

  "I seriously doubt that," Abby disagreed, and snuggled into Bryce.

  ***

  Becca and Courtney walked hand-in-hand with Abby down the wide sidewalk, offered support, and ensured Abby actually made it to the rescheduled wedding dress appointment. Like

  everything else, Abby's mother had insisted that they go to Cher's to find a wedding dress. "All you girls have found beautiful wedding dresses at Cher's. There is no reason to believe you cannot do that again, Abby."

  It had taken Abby all of ten minutes to find her dress while planning her and Trevor's wedding, but her mother had insisted she try on more dresses "just to be sure." But Abby knew the minute she had the long silk gown on, that it was what she had dreamed of from the moment Trevor had asked her to marry him. And she had thoroughly enjoyed the day at Cher's, surrounded by her family and friends. She was all-to-happy to try on every dress in the shop, if her mother had wanted.

  But that was then. Things had changed, and this was not just a “re-do” of her first attempt at a wedding. Nothing about her wedding to Trevor had been successful, and she wanted no part in recreating the events that should have taken place that day. But Charlotte was determined that this was Abby's chance to wipe the slate clean, and pretend the last five years had never happened. To Charlotte, the grooms were interchangeable, and only secondary to the event. And Abby grew more resentful of her mother - and this wedding - with each passing day. It infuriated her that her mother would not listen – not actually hear what her daughter was saying, or take into consideration Abby’s feelings.

  Abby sat on the long white sofa with Courtney and Becca, as Clara and Charlotte faced them on the light blue love seat in the waiting area. A tall blond in her early twenties approached them.

  "Abby Clark?" she asked, while she searched their faces to see which woman was the bride. Abby remained quiet; finally, Courtney pointed her out.

  "Okay, my name is Jessica, and I will be your personal assistant today. If you will all follow me, we will go to one of the suites and get started." Jessica sauntered down a long hallway, and led them into an alcove with six chairs wrapped around a pedestal with mirrors on three sides. Off to the side was a large dressing room. Jessica swept her arm around the room, "Have a seat. Now, Abby, it looks like you purchased a wedding dress from us before, almost six years ago now. I'm sorry that didn't work out, but let's see what we can do to get you into the dress of your dreams."

  Abby endured endless questions regarding her style, what type of dress she was looking for, if she would be wearing white again, or cream. Abby had finally admitted to the young woman that she had no idea what she was looking for, which prompted Jessica to draw out an "okay, well we’ll just grab a few different styles and see what you like."

  After 30 minutes of trying on various dresses, all of which Abby hated, the exasperated Jessica excused herself to gather more dresses. Voices filled the room, and Abby looked around. Finally, she spotted the vent up in the corner. Abby recognized one of the voices as Jessica, and strained to hear the conversation.

  "Honestly, this is a nightmare. She looks depressed. She hates every dress I have her try on, but she won't tell me what she likes. No wonder she is on her second marriage. The first guy got wise and probably dumped her ass."

  "Well, look at this way. If you can find a dress she likes, perhaps she will come back to you for her third wedding," an unknown voice responded. The women laughed, unaware they were being eavesdropped on.

  Abby sat for a moment, numb. Memories floated back to that day; sitting outside the room where Trevor lay. She had smoothed out the wrinkles in her dress, careful to avoid the areas soaked with Trevor’s blood. The curtain was pulled open, and she saw the gurney being taken from the room. She could hear the screams that came from her own mouth still ringing in her ears. She begged them to remove the sheet from his face; to try again to bring him back. She could feel Jim and her father’s arms wrapped tightly around her, as she struggled against them to get to Trevor.

  She wiped the tears from her eyes, and stood. She was done; with all of it. Abby pulled off the slip, and unhooked the corset. Finding her clothes, she dressed, and exited the dressing room. Clara and Charlotte looked up at Abby shocked. Jessica came around the
corner, arms loaded with wedding dresses, and stopped abruptly before running into Abby.

  "I’m finished," Abby stated, and turned to Jessica. "By the way, you should be a little more discreet in your conversations when there are vents from one room to another that can carry those conversations." The sales assistant's face dropped in horror. "Yes, I heard you. And for the record, this is not my second marriage. My fiancé died before we could get married. Maybe, in the future, you will endeavor to find out before making assumptions about someone, and airing them where they can be overheard."

  Courtney followed Abby through the waiting area. Jessica hurried after them, apologizing profusely. Becca came up behind them, and the three women quickly walked down the sidewalk towards the parking garage. Stopping abruptly, Abby turned to her friends.

  "I think I'll just walk back from here. It's not far, and I need to clear my head."

  Worried looks crossed the women's faces at the suggestion, but Abby continued, "I'll be fine. I need to calm down, and have some alone time. I'll text you when I get in the door, so you'll know I made it home okay. Besides, I need for you to run interference with Mom."

  "Okay," Becca agreed. "But you had better text us as soon as you get home, Abby. Or I will send Rob over to kick your butt." A smirk crossed Abby's face as she hugged Becca, and then turned to Courtney. "Thanks, sister. I love you both."

  "Love you, too. Take care of you, and we'll handle the others."

  Abby slumped onto her couch, and covered her eyes and cried. With every passing day, she grew more and more depressed over the impending wedding. Plans were being made, deposits paid, and Abby wanted no part of any of it. Too much of it was a repeat of her and Trevor's wedding, a wedding that never happened, with the most tragic conclusion. Everything reminded her of that day, and she hated that this day - the day all her dreams would come true by marrying Bryce, was being marred by the memory of her dead fiancé. Abby had no idea how she would possibly make it until August, over two months away. Or how she would stand in that Bride's room waiting for Bryce to arrive. Her body shuddered, and a chill ran through her. Please don't let anything happen to Bryce, she prayed.