Moving On:
Chapters Ten and Eleven
“Mom,
I’ve got to make a quick dash to the club, then I’ll come back and pick up Jim
and the kids. There’s no need to be nervous, you’ll be stunning. Everything’s
perfect.” Angie walks over and gently gives
me a hug. “Relax and enjoy your sweet day. I love you. Remember, you have the
right guy.”
“Thanks.
I thought if I’d wear another kind we’d clash.” Angie blows me a kiss and
rushes out the door, leaving me to my own thoughts.
I
walk over to the bed, pick up my slip and lift it carefully over my hair then let
it cascade down my body into place. This
light ivory colored satin slip clings to me resembling the look of liquid
mercury, and is embodied with a full overlay of French lace detailing across
the bodice and hem. I imagine Michael’s fingers tenderly traveling down over
the smooth material, and visualize Michael then slowly removing this sensuous,
sexy slip, tantalizing me as his hands drift oh so keenly along the inviting
fabric.
I
gaze over at the wedding dress so carefully chosen. Cream colored delicate lace
over satin with the additional separate floor length skirt. So versatile for
other uses. The yoke will be just what I envisioned when I bought it. My
Mother’s precious pearls will be a focal point lying daintily across my neck. I
turn to see myself in the mirror upon putting my wedding dress on. It’s
stunning. I feel sexy, feminine, and happy.
With a wistful sigh at what’s to come, I slide
my pedicured feet into my ivory satin shoes that match my dress, laughing at the
double panty hose I’m wearing. Then lovingly fasten my Mother’s treasured pearl
necklace which completes my ensemble with priceless simplicity and beauty, just
as I planned. I gently place the seed-pearled Juliette cap and short veil over my
dark blonde highlighted hair. Gently dab the perfume on my neck and wrists. There,
finished.
Well,
the panty hose will be my something old. I look into the mirror and study
myself. Hey, you’ve had quite a life and made changes along the way to get here.
What a wonderful prize at the end of years of bullshit. I then begin to
daydream about my future with Michael. I picture his warm hands moving across
my body and his sweet smile turning into gentle kisses, barely touching my skin.
I tingle at the thought. All the material I’ve chosen is soft and sensuous to
the touch, it just seems like the appropriate sexy way it should be. He is sure
to appreciate my carefully planned choices as he sees what I’m wearing and how
I hope I look. Closing my eyes, I dreamily realize how fortunate I am to have
found a true lover, companion and a friend all rolled up in one gorgeous hunk
of man. My makeup is still on as perfect as possible. I check my lipstick,
having used the new stay-on lipstick promised to remain intact for twelve hours.
Angie
returns, bolts through the door. “Hi, Mom. the flowers are here. Finally. Your
bouquet is dusty-rose champagne grey sola wood and dried flower eucalyptus sprays.
Mine is a perfect complement to yours. I put them in the fridge. Are you ready
to go?”
Angie’s
bouquet is a smaller version of the one I’ll carry. Michael’s boutonniere is a
single red rose that still has a couple of leaves, plus a delicate sprig of baby’s
breath to finish it off. Angie grabs her
phone and takes a few pictures of me. I pose like a kid, pretending to be a
glam gal for fun. We’ll take serious ones for the wedding album at the wedding.
It’s
time to go. Angie shoos Chris and the kids off. I pick up two umbrellas, one
for Michael, just in case. Angie picks one for herself and takes all the boxed
flowers with her. “By the way, Mom, Sky and Gale went right to the Club.
Imagine my brother being on time. Wow. He called a while ago.”
“Well,
I haven’t checked back with Michael yet, but we have electricity here so there
should be no problem since we are only a few blocks away from the Club. I’m
crossing my fingers, eyes, and toes, just for luck.”
The
sky is speckled with varying shades of light to dark grey. The heavy black ones
are far off. “What a gamble. What do you
say to that, Angie?”
“It
has me worried a bit.”
We
pull into the parking lot entrance. “You
get out here, Mom. I’ll see you inside.”
“Thanks,
sweetheart.” I blow her a kiss, pick up the detachable long skirt of my dress
and hold it carefully to keep it dry, then step out of the car. Reaching the
Club’s front door, my heel catches on something. It throws me forward. I splat
against the front door, saving an ugly fall. The heel of my shoe dangles and is
useless. I hobble inside and call Angie. She answers. “I just parked, Mom.
What’s up?”
“The
heel broke off my shoe. Can you run home and get another pair that will match
my dress?”
“Do
you even have a pair that will do?” she asks.
“Yes,
In the closet. There is one white pair in the box, top left that should do the
trick.”
“OK,
Mom. I’m on my way.”
I
suddenly smell a scent from the gods, and melt thinking it must be ‘Sex in
Seattle’ and it smells as good as Michael. Before I can turn around I’m engulfed
in a hug from behind me.
Michael whispers in my ear, “Why are you
limping?”
“Oh,
to add to the fun, I broke my shoe heel. Angie is getting another pair for me
at home. By the way, we are not supposed to see each other until the ceremony
and you smell mindblowing wonderful. Did you just get that cologne?”
“Yes, I saved it for you today. We already broke that rule when it was raining and before when we had coffee. Too late for that.” I turn around and melt into his arms, facing him and breathing his fragrance deeply into my very soul.
“The whole family is here. Kids and all.
Yours and mine. The only one missing is the minister.
“Well,
somehow, I could have guessed that would happen.” He can’t shake me away from
the effects of his cologne with mere words.
__________________________________________________________________
Chapter
11
Michael’s
phone rings. “Hello, yes, you can’t find the Club and are a half hour away?
Don’t you have GPS? Well, we can’t be married by phone. We’ll wait and tell
everybody there has been a delay.” He hangs up. “What an idiot, Michael
mumbles.”
“I
agree.”
Angie
comes roaring into the waiting room holding a pair of white heeled shoes. I put
them on and tell her, “Our minister is going to be late.”
“WHAT?
Why? How could he mess that up so badly?” Angie paces in frustration. “If he
had met us last night like he was supposed to, this wouldn’t have happened. No
rehearsal, wow, he is a ten-cent amateur with a penny brain.”
“Don’t
worry. Will you go out there and give everyone the news? Why not ask if there’s
a backup minister in the crowd, just for kicks?”
Angie
shakes her head up and down in agreement. “Sure, Mom, like that will happen.”
She goes down the staircase to the ceremony area. “Hi, everyone. We have an
emergency, Is there a minister in the house?”
A
blonde in the back holds up her hand, and lo and behold, we have a replacement
minister. All our papers are in order. We meet her. I stare at her, and
suddenly remember why she looks familiar. Years ago at a music starfest, she
was dancing naked, holding a long scarf as she moved gracefully with the music.
Boy, I’m glad she’s dressed now. So, she has become a verified minister of a
Free-Flowing Flower Child Church of the 70’s reborn. This should be fun. with a graceful smile, she holds out her hand
and introduces herself. “Hello, I am Faith Church. I know, it’s an appropriate
name for a minister and its pure serendipity that I was given this name. It is
most fortunate that I came with Paul and Lori Johnson. I imagine you have an
idea what you want to say to each other. Do you have anything written down?”
“No,
but we want a warm, loving ceremony. If you have done this in the past, you may
have a few ideas?” She is lean, tall, has long wild blond hair, a happy smile,
and is wearing a loose, long, colorful flowered dress, and sandals. She’s the
perfect friendly person to marry us.
We
go over what will be said and come to an easy agreement. She is an independent
woman with a quick humor. I can see why she’d be the perfect fit for an
unstructured free flowing church. We like her.
Angie
has hired musicians, an ensemble of harp, cello, violin and singer. When the
musicians begin playing, we go down the stairway. Michael walks towards the
fireplace, stands under the arch, turns around to face me and the seated
guests. It’s a cramped room due to the unexpected number showing up. Angie
walks in front of me, my darling maid-of-honor is wearing a beautiful, soft
pink satin dress that looks great on her. And finally, I walk the distance from
single one to two: united, bound for life, connected in taxes, attached
by law, unified in bank accounts, teamed up, doubling family size. Bound
together on a feeling called love.
Our
minister begins, “We gather here today to welcome you into the ceremony of
marriage. In a union, together, where you’ll always be patient and attentive to
one another. Do you, Pamela James, take Michael Day in love, honor, commitment,
honesty, caring and sharing for the rest of your life?”
“I
certainly do.” I look into Michaels twinkling eyes.
Our
minister continues, “And do you, Michael, take Pamela James in love, honor,
commitment, honesty, caring and sharing for the rest of your life?”
“I
absolutely do,” He says, turning to me with a smile.
I
love his answer and smile a wild grin. My knees are rattling against one
another. My mouth is as dry as the Sahara. My teeth are clinging to my upper
lip. Not the look I was after.
Our
minister concludes, “With the power vested in me by the State of Washington, I
now pronounce you one, united in spirit, affection, life and love in marriage.
You are now husband and wife.” She looks up to the attending audience and says,
“May I introduce Mr. and Mrs. Day. You may now kiss.”
We
don’t need prompting to kiss.
We
enter the adjoining room, ready for cocktail time and cutting the cake. I need
something to drink.
The
band is playing “Truly, Madly, Deeply” in the background as Michael looks into
my eyes with a sweet smile and asks, “So, my Lady Love, shall we dance?”