Not Another Family Wedding

by Jackie Lau

  “I wish I could feed her so you could get more sleep.”

  “Oh, honey. That’s sweet of you.” There were tears in Mom’s eyes. “But it’s okay. You do enough for her.” Mom held out her arms, and Natalie let herself be embraced.

  Then she went to her room and made a fancy nametag for Baby Rebecca’s room with dolphins and starfish and seahorses. Dad had taken Natalie and Seth to Toronto to visit family several weeks ago, and they had seen an IMAX film about the ocean, after which Natalie had decided she wanted to be an oceanographer when she grew up.

  For the next few months, it felt like Rebecca was hers. Natalie spent hours a day with her. She changed her diapers and gave her baths, and when her mother stopped breastfeeding, sometimes Natalie would feed her, too. And every day, she would read to her.

  When Rebecca smiled for the first time, it was for Natalie.

  Seth didn’t care about his baby sister, but that wasn’t a surprise. Boys were silly. But even as Rebecca grew and became more playful, Mom and Dad didn’t seem to take the appropriate interest in her.

  The summer came, and Natalie spent even more time with her sister. Sometimes she’d play outside with her friends, but a lot of the summer was spent with her little sister, and she delighted in each milestone Rebecca reached.

  One day in September, she came home after school and found her dad reading to Rebecca. Not from a picture book, but from one of his hardboiled detective novels. Rebecca giggled when he said “disemboweled.”

  “She laughs now,” Dad said.

  “She’s laughed for a while.”

  “Really? I never noticed.”

  Natalie would usually take care of Rebecca after school, but her father had come home early and was reading to his youngest daughter instead, and that was good. It was the way it should be. Natalie felt a twinge of jealousy, but she was also relieved. She’d gotten a book on the ocean from the school library last week, and she hadn’t had a chance to look at it yet. Now she could read it without feeling guilty, without feeling like there was something else she ought to be doing instead. She took out her fancy set of fifty pencil crayons and copied some of the pictures from the book. Such strange creatures lived in the depths of the ocean. She had never been to the ocean, but when you were on the shore, would it look all that different from Lake Huron? You couldn’t see the other side of Lake Huron, either. When she was grown up, she was going to travel a lot and see all the natural wonders of the world.

  After that day, Dad took more interest in Rebecca. Natalie no longer felt like she was the only one providing Rebecca with love and affection, even if her father’s version of love was reading aloud murder scenes. He would also play peek-a-boo and cuddle her in his lap.

  Something still wasn’t right with Mom, though.

  Natalie frequently came home from school to find her mother lying on the sofa or the bed, spaced out but not sleeping. She didn’t smile or laugh anymore—it was as though the ability to do those things had been transferred from her to Rebecca.

  Natalie asked her father what was wrong with her mother.

  “It’s difficult being home with a baby all day,” Dad said. “That’s all.”

  Perhaps that was true, but Natalie had a feeling this wasn’t quite normal.

  Rebecca started crawling and walking while holding onto furniture, and Natalie was fascinated by her development. Her parents had a few books on babies, and she read them to make sure Rebecca was developing at the proper rate. She seemed to be doing just fine.

  Her first word was “Nattie.” Natalie was thrilled when Rebecca started speaking, but she also felt a little uneasy. Shouldn’t Rebecca’s first word be “Mama”?

  Her second word was “murder,” thanks to her father.

  One Saturday morning that winter, Natalie woke up late and found her mother playing with her sister in the living room. Mom was building small towers out of blocks, and Rebecca was flinging her arms around and knocking them down with glee.

  “Who’s the sweetest little girl?” Mom said in a high-pitched voice.

  Rebecca giggled in response.

  Mom spent several hours in bed that afternoon, as though playing with Rebecca had exhausted her. But over the next few weeks, she slowly showed more affection toward Rebecca, rather than just taking care of her basic needs.

  By the following summer, Rebecca had no shortage of attention from her parents and Natalie, and even Seth would play with her on occasion. He was more impressed now that his little sister could “do something other than cry.”

  Twelve-year-old Natalie was more certain than ever that she was never having kids. Her mother’s pregnancy and listless existence for the first year of Rebecca’s life scared the crap out of her. She never wanted to go through that herself. Plus, babies were so much work—now she knew exactly how much work they were—and although she generally enjoyed looking after her sister, the experience had shown her that it wasn’t the future she wanted. She was going to have an exciting career as an oceanographer. No babies for her.

  When she was seventeen—and no longer convinced that oceanography was the career she wanted—Natalie read an article in the newspaper about postpartum depression. She realized that was probably what her mother had had after Rebecca was born, though it didn’t explain her father’s initial apathy toward Rebecca. Was there an equivalent for fathers?

  If she had a baby, Natalie wouldn’t necessarily get postpartum depression, and if she did, she could get help. But that wasn’t enough to make her want children. She liked kids, but the idea of being a mother didn’t appeal to her.

  “You’ll change your mind,” Mom said, just like she had when Natalie was younger, and Natalie was frustrated that no one took her seriously.

  She went off to university in Toronto when she was eighteen. When her family said their goodbyes in her dorm room, Rebecca, who was seven, threw her arms around Natalie’s waist and cried.

  “I’ll call you every day,” Natalie promised.

  She didn’t need to talk to her parents or brother that often.

  But Rebecca was special and always would be.

  * * *

  Back in her old room after helping Rebecca with her speech, Natalie picked up an old photo of her and her sister, then put it down and sighed.

  It had been years since she’d said “I love you” to anyone but Rebecca.

  The last person had been Anthony, a guy she’d dated for six months, and she couldn’t help but cringe as she thought of him now. How the hell had she ever believed she loved him? When they’d broken up after the incident, he’d said she was too abrasive and pessimistic and a whole bunch of other things.

  Anthony was a tool.

  And yet.

  Her past was littered with failed relationships, and the things he’d said hadn’t exactly been out of line with what other men had told her. She’d continued to date for a little while after Anthony, but she’d soon given up.

  The whole child-free thing was certainly a problem, when any man who professed an interest in her wanted her to be a mother, and she told herself that was why she didn’t bother with dating anymore. That was why she tried not to hope for what Rebecca had. If she didn’t hope too much, she couldn’t be disappointed.

  Sometimes, however, Natalie feared that regardless of that issue, she was simply unlovable the way she was.

  She had no interest in giving herself a personality makeover for a man, though. No way in hell was that happening.

  But could a guy truly love the real her?

  You can be loved, she tried to tell herself. Think of your sister. You love her, and she loves you.

  Still, she had her doubts.

  Her phone vibrated. She grabbed it off her desk and smiled when she saw the text was from Connor. This would be a good distraction from her depressing thoughts.

  How’s it going? he asked. Is Fuzzy Wuzzy happy to see you?

  Natalie glanced at the blue bear that sat on her old dresser, the bear that had been i
n numerous pretend weddings twenty years ago. Well, his mouth is sewn shut, so he struggles with facial expressions, the poor thing. But I think he’s happy.

  I still can’t believe you have a teddy bear named Fuzzy Wuzzy.

  I was three years old, she replied. It seemed like a sensible idea at the time.

  My teddy bear was just called Teddy.

  How unoriginal.

  I know. Shamefully unoriginal. Maybe I should have called him Beary McBearface.

  She chuckled.

  You ready for tomorrow? he asked.

  As ready as I can be. Something will go wrong, though. I just know it. And don’t tell me to be a fucking optimist.

  I wouldn’t dare.

  When Natalie jumped in the shower a few minutes later, she was still smiling, despite everything on her mind.

  Chapter 5

  Rebecca practically bounced in her chair as the stylist filled her hair with bobby pins. Natalie thought she was the perfect picture of a blushing bride. Her little sister, all grown up, but with child-like excitement about her big day.

  “Don’t move,” the stylist said.

  Rebecca stopped moving and grinned at the mirror.

  The hair stylist and make-up artist had come to her parents’ house to do Rebecca’s hair and make-up, as well as those of the maid of honor and the bridesmaids: Iris, Natalie, and Kelsey, who’d been friends with Rebecca since kindergarten.

  The three of them were ready, except for their dresses. They nibbled on tea sandwiches and scones as the stylist worked her magic on Rebecca and Mom made annoying suggestions. The photographer was also in the room, snapping pictures of everyone getting ready. There was something a little surreal about the whole thing.

  Natalie wasn’t used to being dolled up. She rarely wore make-up, and she usually just pulled her hair back in a ponytail, but today, she had a partial updo, curls spilling over her shoulders.

  “Do you remember the first boy you said you would marry?” she asked her sister.

  “I bet it was Leonardo DiCaprio,” Rebecca said.

  “Oh, no. It was Robbie Watson.” Natalie turned to Iris. “He was the boy next door, same age as Rebecca. His family moved away years ago.”

  “How old was I when I said this?” Rebecca asked.

  “Four,” Natalie said. “You came running inside after playing with him in the sandbox and announced you were going to marry him. Then you asked if I would give you a pony as a wedding present.”

  “And what did you say?”

  “No, of course.”

  “I bet I was crushed.”

  “You were,” Natalie said. “But I’d long since learned that promising you anything was dangerous because you had a great memory. You were so pissed at me when I didn’t get you a dragon for Christmas.”

  “Robbie Watson,” Kelsey said. “You really had a crush on Robbie? The kid was...well, he was kind of weird, to be honest, and way too obsessed with Leonardo. The Ninja Turtle.”

  “It’s news to me,” Rebecca said. “I don’t remember having a crush on anyone before Johnny Mackenzie in grade one.”

  “Oh, I don’t think you had a crush on Robbie.” Natalie shook her head. “You just said you wanted to marry him. I doubt you had any idea what marriage meant.”

  The stylist started spraying Rebecca’s hair with hair spray.

  “No! Too much!” Mom said after only two sprays.

  “Just do whatever you need to do.” Rebecca looked at the stylist in the mirror. “You’re the expert. Not my mother.”

  Mom shot her a glare, but it was an affectionate one. A you’re-exasperating-but-I-love- you-anyway kind of look. Then she turned her attention to Natalie. “When you were young, you told me you were going to marry Seth when you grew up.”

  Iris and Rebecca laughed.

  Natalie scrunched up her face. “Incest. How lovely.”

  “And then,” Mom continued, “Seth announced he would marry me.”

  “Isn’t that sweet.” Natalie picked up an egg salad sandwich and hoped it wouldn’t give her food poisoning. Or bad breath.

  The stylist slipped a silver hairpin with flowers and tiny leaves into Rebecca’s somewhat-messy updo. “All done.”

  “You look lovely!” Iris said. “Elliot won’t be able to keep his hands off you.”

  “He’d better not ruin all my hard work getting ready,” Rebecca said. “Not until tonight.” She turned to Iris and Kelsey. “Yesterday, Mom tried to give me a lecture about what happens on your wedding night.”

  Iris giggled. “I wonder how many people actually have sex for the first time on their wedding night these days. Probably very few.”

  Hair and make-up complete, they put on their dresses. The bridesmaids’ dresses were purple, about two shades darker than Rebecca’s lavender mist wedding gown. Without a veil and a white dress, her sister didn’t quite look like a traditional bride, but with her bouquet of white and pink roses...

  She was beautiful.

  They took pictures in the backyard, where Rebecca had played with Robbie Watson all those years ago. Where Natalie had entertained her with endless games of buzzball, a bizarre game she’d invented for her sister. Out front, they took pictures beside the large maple tree that Rebecca used to climb as a kid, and in front of the lilac bush that had decided to bloom at just the perfect time this year. There were only a few clouds in the sky, and it didn’t look like it would rain—a lovely day for a wedding.

  Natalie looked fondly at her childhood home, a non-descript red brick house in a small town on the shores of a lake so wide, it was like the ocean. She didn’t return to her hometown all that often, and she’d never want to live here again, but it did have its charms.

  They finished up the pictures earlier than expected and headed to the living room.

  “Let’s look at Mom and Dad’s wedding album,” Rebecca suggested.

  “Really?” Mom said. “You want to look at that?”

  “Why not?”

  Mom didn’t say anything.

  Rebecca went to pull the small, worn leather album from its place on the shelf.

  Except it wasn’t there.

  “Where is it?” she asked.

  “I’ll get it for you,” Mom said.

  Strange. Why would she have moved it? It had been there forever, and Natalie didn’t like when things changed in her childhood home. It should stay the same for always.

  Mom came back a couple minutes later, and Rebecca eagerly flipped to the first page of the album, which had three photos of her mother in front of a small church in Toronto. In one of them, she stood beside Aunt Louisa, her maid of honor and the only member of the Williams family in attendance.

  But when Natalie looked at the pictures, she didn’t see the pain of two people getting married without their parents in attendance, without most of their siblings.

  Rebecca flipped to the next page. There was a picture of Mom walking down the aisle by herself—no father to do the honors—and two pictures at the altar.

  When Natalie saw these old photographs, with the faded colors and the styles from the seventies, she saw two people who were in love and had gotten married despite everything that was against them.

  Still, she was under no illusions that her parents’ marriage was perfect.

  She glanced at the walls in the living room. They were a pale blue-gray, which, according to the paint chip, was called Baffin Island mist. How Canadian.

  Natalie remembered the name of the color, even though it had been decades, because her parents had had an argument over what color to paint the room, and it had lasted for days. Mom had wanted Baffin Island mist; Dad had wanted some other color that she could no longer remember.

  Yet they were still married, and they still loved each other.

  On the next page in the photo album were pictures of her parents signing the register, the light coming through the stained-glass windows just perfectly.

  Rebecca ran her finger over the bodice of her mother’
s dress. Long sleeves—you rarely saw that on wedding dresses anymore. When Rebecca was little, Natalie would take out the box with Mom’s wedding dress and let her sister look at it.

  Natalie’s heart squeezed. She wanted Rebecca and Elliot to be happily married for decades, wanted them to smile when they looked at their own wedding pictures.

  That was what she wanted for herself, too, but she doubted it would happen.

  If only she could find a nice man who didn’t want children. Unfortunately, the men who were interested in her were all in a hurry to start a family, or they wanted a stepmother for their children from their first marriage. A man who would not complete her—she didn’t need anyone to do that—but who would listen to her rant and rub her shoulders after work and sleep with her at least once a week. Buy her flowers on her birthday. Appreciate and love her for who she was, rather than complain she was too abrasive and pessimistic.

  She’d done the sex-without-feelings thing, and that was okay when you needed it, but as much as Natalie was loath to admit it, she also wanted the romance. She rarely went on dates anymore—what was the point?

  A few years ago, she’d gone out with a divorced man who had two children. They were three and seven, and she just couldn’t imagine living with them. She felt awful about it, felt like she was somehow broken, but she didn’t want to be a stepmother.

  But she wanted to have what her parents had, what her sister seemed to have with Elliot. To have a wedding day, even if it was a bit of a disaster, that she could look back on in the years to come.

  She blew out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

  It was okay if Rebecca’s day wasn’t perfect. Natalie wanted it to be—oh, she did—but it was still Rebecca’s wedding day, and she was marrying a man she loved very much.

  Though Natalie really, really didn’t want there to be any food poisoning.

  Rebecca was now looking at pictures of their parents’ wedding reception. One of Aunt Louisa, gesturing animatedly as she gave a speech. Another of Mom and Dad dancing. They looked so young, Dad with his longish black hair...

  “Oh my God,” Iris said. “Is your father wearing a ruffled shirt?”