THAT MAN 5 (The Wedding Story-Part 2)

by Nelle L'Amour

  “Move it, you imps,” growled Enid, snapping her bony fingers at the children, “or I’m going to replace you with some professional children who know how to behave.”

  One of Mrs. Cho’s daughters stuck her tongue out at the bitch while the other flung a handful of seashells at her from the basket she was holding.

  “You little brats!” Enid screeched as she broke into a hot flash and began fanning herself. As the flustered wedding planner physically ushered the rambunctious children outside, a clap of thunder resounded.

  Shit. Was it going to rain?

  Still squatting, Libby gave me a hug. “I love you, Jen. Are you okay?”

  I nodded, biting back the urge to tell her the truth.

  “Next!” shouted Enid.

  “That’s me.” With an affectionate squeeze of my hand, my maid of honor stood up and filed out the door. Don’t leave me, Lib!

  I was all alone. I should have been happy. Excited. But unbearable sadness devoured me along with agonizing pain.

  Mendelssohn’s “Bridal March” drifted into my ear. My cue.

  “Go!” screamed Enid with a sweeping wave of her free hand.

  Slowly rising to my feet, I slumped toward the door, so missing my father and my mom. As I stepped outside, a bolt of lightning flashed and then midway down my lonely, painful walk down the aisle, the sky opened up. A sudden torrent of rain began to pour. In the near distance, the shrieking members of my wedding procession scurried about, dashing into the reception tent for shelter. I heard Enid scream through her megaphone, “Goddamnit. Will someone get me an umbrella?”

  I stood there motionless. Tears mingled with the pounding raindrops. They stung my eyes, my skin, and soaked me soul-deep. Ahead of me, one person stood as still as me, drenched under a canopy of drowning flowers. That man who was waiting for me. That man who would always be there for me, whatever storm we weathered. Somehow, some way, through the tears, the pain, and all the rain, I made my way into his arms.

  Chapter 16

  Jennifer

  “Baby, how do you feel?”

  Upon a kiss on my forehead, I peeled my eyes open. One at a time… slowly. Blake came into focus. Consciousness crept through my veins.

  This was my day. My special day. But nothing spoke to the moment.

  “Like shit,” I croaked. I was definitely coming down with a bad flu. I ached all over and last night I’d had the chills. Even Blake’s warm body blanketed around me hadn’t stopped my teeth from chattering. The rain had only made things worse. Thank goodness, the rehearsal dinner was canceled on account of everyone getting so drenched.

  “Fuck,” mumbled Blake, grabbing his cell phone. “I’m calling Dr. Klein to find out if there’s anything you can take.”

  I listened as Blake spoke to his family doctor. Pacing, he wanted to know if there was a prescription that would alleviate the symptoms. His mouth twisted as he said in a glum tone, “Okay doctor, I understand. I will.”

  My heavy-lidded eyes searched his. He shook his head with dismay. “Tiger, there’s nothing you can do except take Advil. The doctor said it’s likely the new strain of the flu that’s becoming epidemic.”

  “Blake, I don’t want you to kiss me after we say our ‘I do’s.’”

  “Baby, I’d kiss you if you had the fucking plague. And I’ll carry you down the aisle if I have too.”

  To prove it, he crushed his lips on my mine. My cell phone rang. I broke the kiss. My heart jumped. It was my mother. I perked up and sighed with relief. Great news! The blizzard had stopped and the airport had re-opened. They were on a flight. She and Dad along with Father Murphy would be here by early afternoon. I suddenly felt much better.

  *

  The day was overcast, but at least it had stopped raining. That my parents would be here for my wedding was my ray of sunshine. In slo mo, I threw on some jeans and headed over with Blake to his parents’ house at noon. I was carrying a small bag containing white satin heels I’d found at Target and a few bare necessities while Blake had his tux in a garment bag folded over his arm. Despite how crappy I felt, I couldn’t wait to see him in it.

  Blake’s mother, Helen, met us at the front door. Wearing designer workout clothes, she gave us each a double cheek kiss, careful not to muss her still wet manicured nails. Her coral nail polish perfectly matched the gown she would be wearing.

  “Children, you must see what Enid has done,” she said excitedly, looping her arm through Blake’s and leading us to the sprawling backyard. Holding Blake’s other hand, I shared the good news that my parents would be in LA shortly.

  “Darling, I’m so thrilled they’ll be here,” responded Helen as we made our way past the pool. “What do you think?”

  Speechless, I couldn’t believe my eyes. In the free-form pool with its grotto waterfall, synchronized swimmers from the U.S. Olympic team were practicing their routine while caterers were setting up pre-wedding cocktail stations all around it.

  “It’s going to be so divine,” gushed Helen as she ushered us to the grassy ceremony area.

  My eyes popped. The humongous yard had been totally transformed, and not for a minute would one think it had been subject to a downpour. All the white folding chairs were set up, and giant conch shells filled with abundant white roses and blue orchids lined the aisle. Ahead of me, workers were frantically replacing flowers and seashells on the canopy under which Blake and I had kissed in the rain last night. They were also setting up the altar.

  “Everything looks beautiful, Mom,” Blake muttered, squeezing my clammy hand.

  “Oh, darling, the best is yet to come. Wait until you see inside the tent!”

  Five minutes later, we were in throes of the most dazzling spectacle I’d ever seen.

  “Wow,” I murmured as Helen walked us through it. The vast tent was draped with swags of coral silk and pearl-white tulle. Grandiose chandeliers dripping with strings of pearls and crystal starfish dangled from the soaring ceiling. There must have been close to one hundred tables, still be setting up by frantic workers. Tall crystal vases on coral pedestals filled with most amazing white flowers, seashells, pearls, and more of those sparkling starfish adorned each one. And at each seat was a snow globe filled with water, sparkles, and a colorful live fish. The décor was simply breathtaking.

  “Come take a look-see at the dance floor, children.” With unbounded enthusiasm, Helen led the way and beamed. “Honestly, have you ever seen anything like it?”

  I couldn’t help but gasp. As if Enid hadn’t taken the under-the-sea theme to the extreme, the see-through dance floor was an aquarium filled with colorful tropical fish. I actually felt seasick stepping on it. Or maybe it was more of the flu. Swaying on my feet, I gripped Blake’s hand tighter as nausea rose to my chest and another shooting pain ripped through me.

  “Are you all right, darling?” asked Helen, lifting a brow as far as she could.

  Blake responded before I could. “Jen’s feeling a little under the weather. She may have the flu.”

  “Oh, dear.”

  “Helen, I just need to rest for a bit. I’m sure I’ll be okay.” I was lying through my teeth. Despite the Advil, I was feeling worse and worse. The stomach pains had intensified and my energy was depleting.

  Blake’s mother affectionately clasped my hands in hers. “Of course, darling. You can lie down in one of our guestrooms.”

  “You will do nothing of the sort!” came a shrill voice. Enid. Dressed in a shrimp-pink silk suit, she stampeded our way. She glanced down at her diamond watch. “You’re late. You were supposed to be here at 11:30. Hair and makeup have been waiting patiently for you. And the In-Style photographer who’s going to document your bridal journey as well as the portrait photographer have been driving me crazy wanting to know where you are. And you’ve also kept Monique waiting.”

  Before I could get my mouth to move, an accented voice came through the walkie talkie she was clutching. “Señora, tenemos un problema. Los peces se están muriendo. I coul
d actually see steam coming out of Enid’s flaring nostrils. “What do you mean the fish are dying? Feed them, you moron, and get someone to go to the fish supply store to buy new ones!”

  The image of dead, bloated goldfish floating upside down sickened me further. Suddenly, I just wanted my mom to be with me. And then it hit me. Something was missing. I glared at Enid.

  “Enid, where are the place cards my mother shipped?” They weren’t on the tables.

  She gritted her teeth. “You mean those quaint little picture frames with the glued on shells?”

  My blood boiled. “Yes.”

  She snorted. “They’ll be on tables at the entrance so our guests will know where they’re sitting.

  Helen chimed in. “With all due respect for your mother, I insisted we use them. They’re really quite charming.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief and was thankful for Helen’s support. I was sure our guests would love them. They were a perfect keepsake. And they would sure last a lot longer than these holed-up, oxygen-deprived goldfish. Maybe a lifetime.

  My cell phone rang. I hastily retrieved it from my purse and my spirits brightened. It was my mother. That meant they had landed!

  “Mom, you’re here?” I said with bated breath.

  As her voice filtered into my ears, my heart sunk like the Titanic. “Oh, no!” This just couldn’t be happening. Shell-shocked and shaken, I listlessly slipped the phone back into my bag.

  “Baby, what’s the matter?” Blake was alarmed.

  “It’s my parents. Their plane was diverted. They’re in Dallas along with Father Murphy. They’re on a connecting flight, but it won’t be here until nine tonight.” I fought hard to hold back tears as the conversation ping-ponged back and forth.

  Enid: “Darling, let’s worry about that problem later.”

  Helen: “Enid, Jennifer doesn’t feel well and this is serious.”

  Enid: “Puh-lease.”

  Blake: “Mom, I’m going back to the house to see if we can send Dad’s plane to get them.”

  Helen: “Sweetheart, that’s just what I was thinking. If I recall, Dallas by air is three hours away. That means, potentially we can get The McCoys here by five o’clock with the two hour time difference if there aren’t any delays. Blake, I’ll head back to the house with you.”

  Helen turned to me and then did something I so needed. She gave me a warm motherly hug. “Darling, keep your chin up. We’ll get your parents and Father Murphy here.”

  I quirked a small, grateful smile. For the first time since I’d known her, I felt a connection to Blake’s mother. She had my back.

  “Come, now,” hissed Enid, wrenching me away. “Let’s get down to business.”

  A violent spasm rocked my abdomen as she hauled me away.

  *

  “Finally!” snapped Monique as I staggered into an opulent guest suite on the main floor of the Bernsteins’ palatial mansion. Like the rest of their house, it was filled with expensive antiques and artwork. My dress, on a padded hanger, hung from an ornate tri-fold corner mirror while the starfish headpiece was perched on a nearby velvet chaise. Both were wrapped in protective plastic.

  Monique was not alone. Two clone-like assistants flanked her and scuttling about was a hip-looking couple who I assumed was doing my hair and makeup.

  “Should I change into the dress?” I asked Enid. My voice was weary when it should have been bubbling with excitement. Besides feeling terribly fluish, I was so stressed over my parents.

  Enid rolled her eyes at me again. “Of course not. You need to do hair and makeup first. Go to the guest bathroom where you’ll find a robe. Get undressed, but be sure to put on your bridal undergarments. And one more thing…please take off that hideous jewelry you’re wearing. It doesn’t go with your dress.”

  She was referring to the pink tourmaline pendant necklace and matching earrings Blake had given me. Anger surged inside me. No way. They were staying.

  “I’m not taking them off,” I said defiantly.

  Enid pursed her lips in disgust. “Fine. We’ll just photoshop them out for the publicity pictures. Maybe replace them with pearls.”

  Seething, I bit my tongue as she pointed to the door of the ensuite bathroom. Five minutes later, I emerged wearing a fluffy terrycloth robe and matching slippers. Beneath the robe, I had on the beautiful lace lingerie and silk stockings Gloria had given me at my bridal shower. Clutching my cell phone, I placed the bag with my shoes by one of the couches. Just as hair and makeup were about to begin, my phone rang. Blake! My heart galloping, I hit answer. YES! Great news! His father’s private jet would be leaving soon to pick up my parents and Father Murphy. Enid shot me a dirty look as I let Blake know how much I loved him.

  “Monique and I will be back shortly. I’m leaving you in very good hands. Philippe and Irma have done hair and makeup for countless celebrities.”

  My eyes stayed fixed on Enid and my dress designer as they strolled out of the room. I wondered—were they going to get in a little pussy time somewhere? If only Helen knew. Feeling so much more relaxed now knowing my parents would be here in time for my wedding, I inwardly chuckled at the thought.

  Seated in a richly upholstered armchair, I told Philippe I wanted my makeup to be as natural as possible (the way Blake preferred it) while Irma worked on my hair. “Ow,” I yelped as she yanked it up into a high ponytail.

  “What are you putting on my eyes?” I asked Philippe.

  “False eyelashes. Your eyes will photograph so much better.”

  What? I didn’t need false lashes. My lashes were long and thick, one of my best features. I fluttered my heavy lids, getting used to the sensation.

  One agonizing hour later, he handed me a large hand-mirror. “You look divine,” he cooed.

  “So divine,” echoed Irma, now done with my updo.

  Anxiously, I raised the mirror to my face. Gasp! I didn’t recognize myself. My lips were painted lobster red; glittery aqua marine eye shadow coated my lids; my lashes looked like fish fins, and my hairstyle resembled an octopus. This was so not me. I looked like a sea monster!

  Before I could utter a word, Enid and Monique came breezing back. Enid’s suit jacket was unbuttoned and stray hairs fell onto her face. For sure, they’d had a little romp.

  “Marvelous,” breathed Enid in her throaty voice as she circled me.

  “But—”

  Her face tightened. “Remember, Jennifer, there are no buts.” She turned to Monique. “Darling, what do you think?

  “Positively sublime. She’s so going to be the siren bride. Time to get her into her dress.”

  I watched as Monique gathered the gown and carefully lifted off the plastic. Ten minutes later, with the helping hands of her assistants, I was in it and wearing my white satin heels along with the glittery starfish headpiece.

  I glared at my reflection in the three-way mirror. The bride was supposed to look radiant, but I was anything but. My glazed, heavily made-up eyes blinked back tears. Despite the alterations, the ruffly mermaid-style dress still fit all wrong and the butt pad made me look distorted.

  I was swimming in my dress.

  I was drowning in a sea of sorrow.

  I was floundering for words.

  Monique screwed up her face. “How dare you lose more weight! My assistants are going to have to make some last minute alterations.”

  Enid growled. “I’m going to charge Helen extra for all the unnecessary work and stress you’ve caused us.”

  And what about all the stress she’d caused me? I held back treacherous tears as Monique’s clones began to pin the vomiticious creation down the sides. I so wanted my mom.

  Back in my robe, I stumbled to a couch and sat down hunched over. One hand cupped my head, the other my tummy. While Enid excused herself to check on what was going on outside, Monique watched over her assistants as they worked together to stitch down the gown with the portable sewing machine they’d brought along. My cell phone rang. My heart pounding, I slippe
d it out of the robe pocket. Blake again. More great news! His dad’s private plane had landed in Dallas and my parents were on their way. He promised to keep me posted.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked. after sharing the good news.

  The truth: Like crap. Though my case of nerves had subsided, the shooting pains in my abdomen were coming at me more frequently and sharply. Clutching my stomach, I lied through my teeth and told Blake I was feeling a little better. He didn’t need more stress.

  “Baby, hang in there. I can’t wait to say ‘I do’,” he breathed into the phone.

  “The same. I love you.” He returned the words and ended the call as another bolt of pain shot through me. While most brides probably wanted their wedding day to last forever, I couldn’t wait for mine to be over. Anxiously, I fiddled with my glittering snowflake diamond ring. The memory of Blake surprising me with it—hidden in a snow globe no less—danced in my head and temporarily took my mind off all my troubles.

  A familiar voice cut into the fond memory and widened the small smile on my face. Grandma!

  “Bubala, I heard you’re coming down vith something. Flu shmu! I brought you a bissel of my chicken soup. Jewish penicillin.”

  “Enid’s going to get mad you’re here.”

  “Enid shmenid.” Handing me a steaming bowl of her aromatic soup, she plopped down next to me on the velvet couch. “Eat!” she commanded.

  “Thanks, Grandma,” I murmured, forcing myself to put a tablespoon of the hot broth to my lips. I blew on it and then sipped the flavorful liquid. You know what? The soup was magical. As it coursed through me, I felt a little better. I helped myself to several tablespoons more.

  “Mmmm. So good. I’ll never make it as good as you.”

  Grandma flicked her wrist dismissively. “Bubala, you’ll learn.”

  “What the hell are you doing?” Enid. She was back. At the sound of her shrill voice, I almost choked on a mouthful of soup.

  “Vhat does it look like?” barked Grandma as I coughed.

  “Give that to me,” hissed Enid, stomping my way. “You’re going to totally ruin your lipstick.”