THAT MAN: The Wedding Story

by L'Amour, Nelle

  Blake returned mid-afternoon. His sultry voice awoke me; I’d dozed off.

  “Jen, it’s almost four o’clock. You should start getting ready.”

  As I fluttered my eyes open and sat up, another one of those sharp pangs dug into me. Clutching my stomach and grimacing, I let out a soft moan, but not soft enough to be unnoticed by Blake. He dashed to my side.

  “Are you okay, baby?” His voice was thick with concern.

  “Blake, I think I might be coming down with something.” It was that time of year the flu was rampant. Many co-workers had come down with it, along with Blake’s college roommate, Jake, who was not going to make it to the rehearsal or wedding. Even though I’d had a flu shot, it didn’t make me immune.

  “Are you sure?” My soon-to-be husband tenderly kissed my forehead. “You don’t seem to have a fever.”

  Well, that was good news. Maybe it was just nerves.

  “C’mon. Let’s take a shower together and get ready.”

  Maybe a shower was just what I needed.

  Wrong. We fucked. I felt worse.

  The rehearsal at Blake’s parents’ house started at six. I was wearing the stunning ivory dress Blake surprised me with in Paris along with my mother’s lovely cashmere birthday sweater while Blake was dressed in one of his sexy tapered dark suits. He looked dashing. I, to be honest, still looked—and felt—like crap. Even the makeup I’d applied, including the little extra blush and eye shadow, couldn’t camouflage my pallor or glazed eyes.

  We got there a little early. Mayhem. Pure mayhem. That’s the only way to describe the scene. It was like a movie production. Except crazier and more chaotic. Workers were everywhere, and amidst them was a frazzled Enid, dressed to the nines, heels and all, shouting orders through a megaphone. Hundreds of white folding chairs were being set up in the Bernsteins’ vast backyard for tomorrow’s ceremony, and a giant tent was in the process of being erected for the reception.

  “Goddammit. How hard is it to fill a bowl of water and stick a stupid fish in it?” Enid screamed into a walkie talkie. And then into her ringing cell phone, “What do you mean, you idiot? I asked for Beluga caviar, not Sevruga. Just deliver it, but after tomorrow, you’re fired.”

  “Oh, hello Jennifer,” she said in a most condescending tone upon taking note of me. She snubbed Blake, who had his arm wrapped around me. I told her my parents wouldn’t be coming to the rehearsal because of a snowstorm.

  She rolled her eyes and let out a haughty huff of air. And then she narrowed her eyes at Blake. “Seriously, Blake, this would have never happened if you’d married Katrina.”

  Though she was a continent away, the mention of her name made my skin prickle. Blake held his own.

  “Seriously, Enid, you need to get your head examined. You’re one sick bitch.”

  Like mother like daughter. Enid’s jaw dropped to the floor and stayed there while Blake ushered me away to mingle with our guests.

  Seeing friends and family was a welcomed comfort.

  Overlooking the backyard, the elegant, spacious veranda began to fill with all the wedding party participants—from the eight hired blond bimbo bridesmaids from Central Casting to those near and dear to us.

  Blake’s sister Marcy, upon arriving, gave me a hug and then observed me in true doctorly fashion.

  “Jennifer, are you all right? You look very pale.”

  “Yes. Just a case of pre-wedding nerves,” I said as another gut-wrenching pang stabbed me. The good actress I was, I smiled through the pain. Perceptive Libby shot me a concerned look. Her sharp, analytical mind could cut through bullshit like a knife.

  Enid’s thunder­ing voice inter­cepted my thoughts. She held her megaphone to her face. “Attention, everyone. The rehearsal is about to begin.”

  One by one, Enid gave the wedding party their marching orders as if she were General Patton. With Rabbi Silverstein already at the altar, Grandma led off the procession. She was followed by the groomsmen, who proceeded in pairs and included Chaz and Jeffrey, and then by Blake’s best man, Jaime. With a squeeze of my hand, Blake was the next to go. His parents flanked him. As he stepped onto the verdant lawn, Blake looked over his shoulder and blew me a kiss. For a fleeting moment, my gloom lifted. I blew one back at him.

  As he disappeared into the ominous night, the bevy of bridesmaids, which included Gloria and Marcy, trailed behind him.

  Libby and I were the only ones left. Along with Marcy’s twin boys, the ring bearers, and Mrs. Cho’s daughters, the flower girls. They had managed to score a snow globe and, huddled on the floor in the corner, were watching the little fish inside it swim around in circles. Squeals and laughter filled the air.

  “Children,” barked Enid. “Your turn. Chop chop!”

  The children ignored her. They were too busy playing.

  Scowling, Enid marched over to them. She snatched the snow globe and, to my wide-eyed horror, tossed it across the room. The glass shattered and the fish went flying.

  Mrs. Cho’s sweet little girls burst into tears.

  “Meanie!” cried out one of the twins.

  My eyes traveled to the fish flapping madly on the floor by my feet. In my overcharged emotional state, tears seared my eyes. The poor little thing. He was gasping for air. I could feel his pain. At this very moment, I, too, felt like a fish out of water. Helpless. Suffocating. Desperate. I fell to my knees and scooped the tiny orange creature into my palms. In a heartbeat, Libby, wearing one of Chaz’s little black dresses, was by my side with a bowl of water. My Libby! Always there for me!

  “Get up, you ridiculous girls,” seethed Enid as I struggled to get the fish into the bowl. He was squirming and jumping in my cupped hands. The captivated children had gathered around us.

  Libby’s freckles jumped off her face as they did when she was enraged. She cranked her neck and gazed up at Enid.

  “Shut up, you bitch!” she barked as I finally managed to get the fish safely into the water. It happily swam about.

  The cheering children burst out in laughter. “She said the b-word,” singsonged one of the twins.

  Enid was livid, but for the first time all day, I was on the brink of laughter. Libby didn’t hold back and high-fived one of the twins.

  “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, dr
enched 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 an 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 to.”

  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 the 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 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. Both the In-Style photographer, who’s going to document your bridal journey, and 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 could 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 p
roblem 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.