“Exactly,” replied the Green Man, but not referencing the film.
“And you!” Sylvia stated, almost accusingly, “You are definitely another facet to the mix. You add the ‘rebirth’ part.”
“Yes, I do,” the Green Man agreed amiably and continued, “but, you do not know the journey you will be taking upon your ‘death.’”
“Journey?” she questioned, “don’t we all just ‘die?’ Or, is there really a heaven and hell? I know about those fascinating reports of near death experiences…” her voice broke off.
“It’s a mystery I am not at liberty to reveal to you,” he told her, “…yet. But, I promise you, that when your ‘death’ happens, your journey will be a good one.”
His words comforted Sylvia. He walked back towards the funeral home with her.
“But,” she argued, “death seems so senseless.”
“Perhaps,” he said, enigmatically, “but, it is a choice and it is very definitely a passage.”
“Only to leave those behind sad, angry and frustrated,” she replied.
“That’s a choice,” the Green Man almost snapped.
“I guess so,” Sylvia said, not agreeing with him.
"Don't fear," the Green Man ordered somewhat sternly.
He had placed his arm and wrapped it around her shoulders. His touch brought waves of peace. Was that her problem? Instead of feeling the suffocation by the deaths around her, was it truly fear? Did she fear to die? That insight gave her pause, as she was not sure of her own beliefs about heaven, hell or the hereafter. The Green Man rubbed her arm and hugged her to him in a one arm hug. She relaxed.
"Birth, death, and rebirth are part of the pattern as well," he said.
For a brief instant, Sylvia had a glimpse of something that flashed through her mind. It was like the movement of the stars in the night sky, but different. It was the briefest of flashes of understanding that brought her comfort, as the comfort she felt when she first saw the tree auras dancing in the sky.
Her mother pulled up along the street and beeped at her. Sylvia jumped at the sound. The Green Man vanished instantly.
"There you are!" her mother called, as she put the window down in the car. "We were worried about you. Owen and I have been driving through the streets of North Bay looking everywhere for you."
"Sorry," Sylvia told her mother, "I had to get out of there. I had that same suffocating feeling when Gran died," she explained as she climbed into the car. "I'm doing better now."
"Good," her mother replied. "Call or text Owen and let him know you are all right and to meet us at the club."
Sylvia did as she was told and her mother drove to the yacht club. The sunshine pouring through the car window felt cleansing and Sylvia closed her eyes and thought about what the Green Man had said. She wondered again if her problem was that she feared death. But, she asked herself, how could one not fear death? She did not want to wonder what it felt like, not for many, many years to come. She had already come too close to it a few months ago.
Her mother interrupted her thoughts, “Are you sure you are all right?” she asked Sylvia as she turned into the gravel parking lot of the yacht club.
“I’ll be okay,” Sylvia said, opening her eyes to see the club perched at the end of a small point on the bay. Several boats were at their moorings, but then several spaces were open at the docks, and several cars were in the parking lot. People were enjoying a sail on this lovely day.
“Shall we head inside or wait for Owen, Frank, Gwen and Carol?” her mother asked.
“Why don’t we go inside,” Sylvia suggested.
They entered the yacht club. It was quiet. From the downstairs pub, a petite woman with dark hair and snappy, black eyes and bright smile greeted them.
“Ms. Ash? Sylvia?” she greeted them in a mature voice with a touch of a southern drawl. “I’m Beverly Maranzano, the events coordinator at the club. Welcome.” She held out her hand.
“Why don’t we head to the dining room for our planning,” Beverly motioned for them to walk past a small seating area to a sun-drenched room filled with small tables. French doors led out to a patio area dotted with smaller tables. The patio area had awnings that shaded a large portion of the table area. Beverly led them to the only table that was covered in linen and set for six.
“The groom, my maid of honor and bridesmaid should be here any moment,” Sylvia said as they sat down.
“That’s fine,” Beverly assured her. “Perhaps you can begin to look over the paperwork while we wait.”
Beverly handed Mary and Sylvia each a folder that was filled with menus, policies, and testimonials from couples previously married at the club.
Owen, Gwen, and Carol walked into the club, laughing about something. Gwen looked much better than she had a few hours previously. Sylvia noticed Gwen had a subtle glow around her. They walked over to the table and Sylvia made introductions. Beverly shook hands with each of them.
“Where’s Frank?” Sylvia asked, peering at the group.
“He’s at your house,” Gwen told her, “catching up on some work. A business call interrupted his weekend, so he’s dealing with some work issues. He’ll text Owen after this luncheon meeting so that they can go boat shopping while we head out to look at dresses.”
“Oh,” Sylvia replied. “Okay.”
A waitress came and poured water for each of them and asked for a drink order.
When they were settled once again, Beverly asked, “Now, when I first spoke with you, you mentioned the wedding in June of next year. Do you have a date?”
“Umm,” Sylvia said slowly, “We’re actually moving the wedding to September of this year and we understood the weekend after Labor Day is available.”
“Oh!” Beverly exclaimed softly, “I will need to double check on that.” She gave a surreptitious glance to Sylvia and her abdomen.
Sylvia blushed, but Gwen was the one who spoke up, “I’m the pregnant one, not Sylvia,” she stated dryly.
“Oh!” Beverly commented softly. “I see.”
She stood up to get another calendar and when she left the room, Gwen and Carol dissolved in giggles.
“Her face!” Gwen stammered and lost herself to giggles again.
“Girls! Get hold of yourselves,” Mary scolded in a sotto voce whisper.
Gwen and Carol tried. They took large gulps of ice water and when Beverly came back to the room, Carol pulled Gwen to her feet to look at the view over the bay.
“I’m happy to say that date is available,” Beverly told them. “What is your ballpark on the number of guests for the wedding reception?”
“It’s relatively small,” Mary began, “only about fifty or so.”
“Mom,” Sylvia interjected, “Owen and I were going over the guest list and there aren’t more than thirty people. Well, maybe thirty-five with the band members and the minister,” she corrected, “We’re keeping it simple.”
Beverly nodded. “That’s quite manageable. Why don’t you take a look at the information while I begin to write up the contract for the event? Will you be having the ceremony here?”
They shook their heads and Sylvia explained that they were having the ceremony at the marina near their home in Bayside. Their hope was to have the reception at the club and then sail off into the sunset with wish lanterns in the early evening.
“That will be lovely!” Beverly complimented their plans.
Sylvia shared the folder with Owen and they looked at the details of décor, linens and down payment as well as the choices for the bar and the food. Gwen and Carol returned to the table much soberer than a few minutes prior. Beverly had procured another folder and the girls looked over the information as well. The waitress returned with plates of various appetizers for them to try, which they passed around.
Sylvia pushed the platter of stuffed mushrooms towards Gwen.
“Mushrooms are your favorite,” Sylvia told her friend but was surprised when Gwen pushed the tray back towards Sylvia with her nose uptu
rned and a grimace on her face.
“What?” Sylvia asked, “You love mushrooms!”
“Unfortunately, not anymore,” Gwen told her sadly, “At least I’m reasonably sure the baby doesn’t like them. It’s very sad.”
“Well, maybe it’s temporary,” Sylvia reassured her.
The rest of the group nodded as they sampled the tasty morsels of several appetizers. Sylvia loved the grilled fruit kabobs and Owen was adamant to have the mini crab cakes. Mary suggested a cheese tray and Carol asked for the spring rolls.
“Full bar, premium,” Mary said. “You’ll need to let me know if you will provide the champagne for the toast or if we need to do this. Also,” she turned to Sylvia, “there is a buffet stated on the menu, but I think we would like to have a sit-down reception. Is that right?”
Sylvia and Owen nodded. Beverly agreed and they discussed food choices. Owen seemed happy, too, and was even happier when their waitress brought cups of crab bisque to serve to them.
“Delicious,” he proclaimed. “We definitely want this on the menu.”
“Done,” said Beverly. “Choose which appetizers you would like and I’ll put the crab bisque down as your soup choice. If you know of anyone with a shellfish or other food allergy, please let me know as soon as possible so that we can have an alternate available. Ahh, here are some samples of the main courses.”
The waitress brought loaded platters of Snowcapped Filet Mignon, Pasta Primavera, Seafood Scampi and more. Things were portioned so that everyone could get a taste. Owen quickly chose the lump crab meat topped filet as a choice and Mary voted on the pecan crusted salmon with bourbon sauce.
“This herb chicken is delightful,” Gwen commented.
“And what would the bride prefer?” Beverly asked. “You have a choice of three entrees for the reception.”
Sylvia felt a little overwhelmed. “Definitely the filet,” she said, “and the salmon would be two of the three,” she commented. “I have no idea for the third. I need to think if we have any vegetarians in the group. If not, definitely a chicken dish.”
“Well, you have the choice of Chicken Marsala, chicken saltimbocca, chicken with champagne cream sauce or the herb encrusted char grilled chicken breast,” Beverly told her. “If you have a guest that needs something special, I’m sure the chef would be happy to oblige.”
Sylvia looked to the group. “Well?” she asked.
They vacillated between the chicken with the champagne cream sauce and the herbed chicken, finally deciding on the herb encrusted grilled chicken breast. They went over the rest of the menu while they tried the salad and potato choices.
Beverly excused herself for a moment and Sylvia commented, “I never knew choosing a meal could be so complicated!”
“And this is just the beginning of decisions,” Carol intoned, “but, we’re all here to support you and to help you out.”
“Do you have a florist or a baker for the cake yet?” Beverly asked her.
Sylvia shook her head.
“I have a list of several,” she assured Sylvia and starred a few of her favorites on the typed sheet.
“Thank you,” Sylvia said with a relieved sigh.
They discussed the band and possible dancing, and the logistics of things that sent Sylvia’s head whirling. Finally, they finished their lunch and signed the papers. Beverly shook their hands.
“Please do not hesitate to call me if you have any concerns or questions,” she told them. “And,” she turned to Sylvia, “you should call me Bev.” She gave Sylvia a warm and encouraging smile. “Don’t worry,” she told Sylvia. “It will all work out.”
“And let me know when you find a boat!” Beverly said to Owen. “We’ll check with the dockmaster on available slips so that you can dock here and sail off into the sunset for your honeymoon.”
Chapter 7
“Success is buried on the other side of frustration.” Anthony Robbins
The girls piled into Mary’s car and they were off to Wilmington, Delaware to a large bridal salon. When they arrived, the store was packed with women of all ages and a few men that looked uncomfortable. They spoke with a young woman dressed in an elegant black dress at a desk and she took down the information and assigned them dressing rooms. Sylvia asked about the bridesmaid gown. The sales associate went to pull it from the stock for Gwen and Carol to try on. While they waited, Carol and Gwen pulled several dresses off the rack commenting on some of the tackiness of the gowns. Carol pretended to vomit while Gwen teased that she didn’t need to pretend, especially when they saw the netted dresses with shiny bits of mirrors sewn onto the bodice.
“If we added a bit of thread, they would be pasties to twirl!” Carol hooted.
“Carol!” Sylvia admonished, “Shh!”
Gwen doubled over in giggles once again and tried to pull herself together when the sales associate returned. They did not have the gown in the color Sylvia wanted, but Gwen and Carol tried the dress on and it was beautiful. The dress was strapless with a wide row of beading under their breasts with embroidered vines and flowers that matched the chiffon. Godets of chiffon made the dress very feminine. Sylvia had thought about a meadow or leaf green for the bridesmaid dresses and a theme of leaves throughout the wedding.
“A perfect design to show my popping tummy,” Gwen muttered acerbically.
“Stop!” Mary told her. “You girls will be beautiful in this. I love the chiffon wrap that goes with it. You’ll both be floating down the aisle. Those godets will pick up and flutter if we have any breeze at all at the marina. Imagine dancing in this dress. It will be lovely.”
Gwen and Carol looked at each other but agreed that they were lovely dresses. Sylvia was insistent on green and they looked at the swatches. Finally, they decided on a dark sage green that was more autumnal than the spring greens.
Next, it was Sylvia’s turn. The sales associate, Maria, asked if she had any idea of what type of dress she wanted to have for the wedding. Sylvia looked at her and shrugged. She had no idea. It was overwhelming to see the hundreds of dresses hanging on the racks in the store. The saleswoman seemed to visibly swallow her frustrations, but put Sylvia in a dressing room and told her to wait while she brought a selection. There was a knock and Maria was armed with varieties and styles of wedding dresses. The spacious dressing room was dwarfed by the addition of satin, chiffon, lace and many furbelows. Maria helped her into the first dress that was satin and chiffon. It had a sweetheart neckline, elbow length sleeves, and a billowy skirt. She stepped out of the dressing room where her mother, Gwen, and Carol were waiting.
Catching a glimpse in the mirrors, Sylvia said, “All I need is a tiara.”
Sylvia meant it as a joke. The dress looked like a Disney princess dress, but Maria took her seriously and went off to get a tiara. Sylvia rolled her eyes.
“It’s a beautiful dress,” her mother stated.
“If we were getting married in Disneyworld,” Sylvia replied drily.
Gwen and Carol convulsed into giggles again. Maria brought back the tiara and placed it on Sylvia’s head which started another round of giggles from Gwen and Carol. Maria didn’t look hurt but certainly turned to look at them with a stern eye. Sylvia tried to hold back her own giggles and looked at herself critically in the mirror.
“I don’t think so,” she told Maria.
Maria nodded and helped her into another dress. Each dress she tried on seemed worse than the one before. Sylvia was getting a headache and also emotional. During the trying on of various dresses, Sylvia noticed the groups of females, and families and friends that gathered to ‘help’ other brides with their dress choices. If Sylvia thought the cacophony of the sound of the children at the park combined with the squawking of the blue heron was noisy, it was nothing to the groups shouting and adding vociferous comments about the dresses the brides tried on. Perhaps those brides were as stressed as she felt. And, she thought gratefully, her mom, Gwen, and Carol were not rude and disruptive. Carol had her own se
nse of chutzpah and silently made throwing up gestures at some of the dresses, but she was not loud in criticizing various real points on Sylvia nor did she make rude comments about the dresses. Gwen picked up on Carol’s sense of humor and both laughed and giggled at many of the choices but did not embarrass Sylvia. Sylvia was grateful.
“I’m sorry,” she apologized to Maria. “I think I need to think about what I really want in a dress. You’ve been a great help. Let me think about this and I can come back in the next week or so to make a firmer choice.”
Maria nodded. “Your wedding is just around the corner,” she warned. “You’ll need to actually look for something ‘off the rack’ that will not require tailoring.”
“I know,” Sylvia said.
Sylvia’s head was pounding and her emotions that had been on edge all day threatened to spill over in tears of frustration. She made her thanks again and caught up with her mom and friends on their way to the car.
When she got in the car, Sylvia nearly broke down. “That was pretty awful,” she said with a hitch in her voice. “The wedding gowns, I mean,” she said quickly. “I like your dresses,” she told Carol and Gwen, “a lot, but the choices I tried on were definitely not what I want for a wedding gown. Lordy,” Sylvia sighed loudly, “some of those were ghastly! The glitter and trim and beads seemed to weigh a hundred pounds,” she complained. “And that mermaid dress!” she broke off, “I couldn’t even walk in it! How do they expect someone to wear that?” she asked rhetorically. “I mean, I’m not a geisha! And…and….,” Sylvia stopped and shook her head. She was babbling and very close to tears once again.
“So, I am thinking we’re done with wedding dress shopping today?” Mary asked her daughter.
“I’m sorry. I know a large part of my problem is that I haven’t a clue as to what style of wedding dress I want. I guess I was hoping I would try on the gowns and one would pop out at me and be ‘the one.’ Now, at least, I know what I’m not looking for in a dress,” Sylvia said.
“Well, Syl, we did find the matron of honor and bridesmaid dress,” Carol told her, “That’s an excellent thing.”
The Blossoming: The Third book in The Green Man Series Page 5
