Going to the Chapel

by Janet Tronstad

  “Elaine?” I ask just to be sure. “What’s happened?”

  “Did you have a car accident?” Jerry asks.

  I step a little closer to be sure the ketchup isn’t blood.

  I guess that is enough sympathy for Elaine to decide she is welcome. She walks into the apartment, dragging a huge garment bag behind her.

  “I don’t know what to do,” Elaine wails as if this would make us understand what was happening. And then she hiccups and starts to cry. “I can’t just leave my wedding dress behind. My mother helped me pick it out. And, who are they to say I can’t take it on a cruise? That’s not fair.”

  “No, of course not,” I find myself saying, although for the life of me I don’t know what she’s talking about. No one is planning a cruise that I know about and Elaine should be able to take her wedding dress anywhere she wants to take it. “Who said you can’t take it on a cruise?”

  Elaine’s lip is trembling with indignation. “Gary’s parents. They want to pay for a cruise wedding, but they want me to get a different dress. Something with no lace that will pack better.”

  “Well, that makes sense,” I say. I have to bite my tongue to keep my joy from erupting in a huge yell of triumph. This would certainly solve all my problems. Why didn’t I think of that? Elaine would love to get married on a cruise ship. Aunt Ruth and Uncle Howard would love it, too. I mean, who wouldn’t absolutely love it? I may live to see my grandchildren, after all.

  “The only reason they don’t like my dress is because Mom and I picked it out,” Elaine says. “They don’t like anything that we planned. They don’t even like my hair.”

  We all just look at Elaine’s hair. I don’t think now is the time to ask her about mousse, not with everyone staring at her. She doesn’t seem to notice, though. She probably can’t see us with the tears in her eyes.

  “Your hair’s good,” Doug says, a little feebly. I can tell he is trying to be sincere. “And healthy. Like it’s been outdoors in the fresh air. That’s good.”

  Elaine turns to Doug as though she needs to explain her problem to him. “They want me to wear a straight dress with no lace. No lace at all. Gary’s mother said the dress I have looks common because of all the lace.”

  Elaine stops to take a little sobbing breath.

  “Oh, I’m sure she didn’t mean it like that,” Cassie says.

  As I said, Cassie is the eternal mother and I know she must be wanting to go to Elaine and give her a hug. So far, though, Cassie is holding back.

  “The shop where we got the dress said I could have as much lace as I wanted,” Elaine says haltingly. “Wouldn’t they have said something if my dress was going to look common?”

  “I’m sure it won’t look the least bit common,” Cassie says softly as she takes a step toward Elaine and puts a hand on her shoulder.

  I’m willing to second that opinion, but Cassie makes it sound like a good thing so I let her go with it.

  “It’s got two thousand beads hand sewn on it,” Elaine says. “And with all the lace, I thought it would be elegant.”

  “Oh,” I say. I remember the two thousand beads. I see the garment bag that is trailing behind Elaine. I wonder how fragile those beads are. “Maybe we should lay the dress down on the sofa.”

  Elaine just clutches the bag closer to her and looks as though she’s going to cry harder. “This dress makes me look beautiful. Everyone said so. The woman at the shop. Her assistant. They all said the dress was perfect for me. It is meant for me.”

  Now, I know they must tell every bride that about her dress, especially when the dress is as expensive as this one must be, but I’m not going to share that insight with Elaine.

  “I’m sure there’s a way to take your dress on a cruise,” Cassie says as she finishes the pat on Elaine’s shoulders. “There are some pretty big suitcases out there.”

  “It’s got a seven-foot train,” Elaine says.

  “Wow,” I say.

  Doug looks surprised. “I didn’t know they made them that long. Don’t they have to fit in the aisle?”

  Jerry grunts. “Women.”

  Elaine looks at us and I guess she can see the looks on our faces. “It’s the fashion. They’re called cathedral trains. The women at the shop said I could have it that long if I wanted—as long as I had a carpet to walk down so it didn’t drag on the floor. I was going to have rose petals sprinkled on it.” Her lip begins to quiver again. “Why has everything gone so wrong? Gary and I were supposed to get married in that beautiful church in Palm Springs. You should have seen that aisle. It was extra long. That’s why I got a long train. And now we have to choose between that little chapel where you work,” Elaine says as she looks at me as if it’s all my fault, “which probably doesn’t have any aisle to it at all, or some cruise of the Mexican Riveria.”

  “Well, the Mexican Riveria is always nice at this time of the year,” I say. I’m not going to tell Elaine that the center aisle at the Big M is perfectly long enough for her bridal train and I’ll let the “little chapel” remark pass right on by. I have more important things to say. “And a cruise ship would have a super long aisle. They’d probably let you walk all around the deck if you wanted. You could have a huge train and all the rose petals you wanted.”

  “I wouldn’t mind a cruise,” Jerry says.

  Elaine starts to cry in earnest. “Gary’s parents are staying at his place until the wedding and they’re planning the cruise.”

  Jerry and Cassie both look at me.

  “And that’s a problem because…” I gently ask Elaine.

  She looks at me as though I’ve lost my senses. “It will be their wedding. The wedding they want.”

  “Ah.” I nod. “Of course. And you’re worried it won’t be the wedding you want?”

  Elaine stops wailing long enough to nod.

  I give Elaine what comfort I can. “Lots of people make compromises on their weddings.”

  “Really?” Elaine stops crying.

  I can’t help but think how good I would be as a wedding planner. See how I just comforted the bride-to-be and helped her adjust her attitude?

  “Besides, a cruise wedding would be very nice,” I continue on smoothly. “Just think how beautiful the pictures will be with the ocean in the background. Maybe you’ll get married as the sun goes down. That would be cool. And your mother won’t have to worry about organizing all that food—”

  Elaine begins to cry again. “She won’t have to worry about anything.”

  “See there. That’s what we want. Everything will be done for her. I’m sure she’s in favor of the cruise idea.” I have to restrain myself. I’m getting ready to go into the happy dance. My problems are almost over. No wedding chapel anywhere could compete with a cruise. I bet the ship even has a swimming pool. And a wedding only takes thirty minutes or so. All of us cousins would have the rest of the time to work on our tans. Hello, sunshine, here we come.

  Elaine takes a deep shuddering breath. “I haven’t told Mom about the cruise.”

  “Oh, well, that’s not a problem. Just tell her as soon as you can. I can guarantee she’ll be relieved. She’s been worrying about measuring the chapel at where I work and everything. She’ll be so glad when you tell her. I bet she even buys a new dress to wear.”

  Elaine shakes her head. “She won’t need a new dress.”

  “I know you’re thinking she’s already spent all that money on your wedding,” I say, “but, trust me, your mom will be happy to spend a little more to see you happy and smiling on your big day. So just go ahead and tell her so she can relax.”

  Elaine stops crying and crunches up her face. “I don’t know how to tell her. Gary’s parents don’t want her to come.”

  Jerry goes pale. “Not come?”

  “To the wedding?” I add for clarification. “They don’t want her to come to your wedding?”

  Elaine nods. “They want to give us the cruise wedding as a gift, but they say there’s only room for Gary and me.
And them, of course. And Lynda, their daughter. And maybe Gary’s uncle if he wants to come. The cruise ship is almost sold out.”

  “But there will be cancellations,” I say. “They can’t be serious about you getting married without your parents there.”

  “Gary’s mom says we only need a couple of people for witnesses.”

  “Well, that’s true, but…”

  Cassie and I exchange a look. Neither one of us can believe Elaine has the story right.

  “Gary’s mom says lots of couples don’t have either set of parents with them when they take a wedding cruise, so we should consider ourselves lucky that they will be able to come with us,” Elaine says. “At least, we’ll have one set of parents.”

  Elaine looks about as far from lucky as a person can look and still be breathing.

  “I don’t even want to be around your mother when you tell her she can’t come to your wedding,” Jerry says.

  Even I know that’s much worse than getting the wrong punch cups at the hotel in Palm Springs. This is big-time serious. Aunt Ruth has planned for Elaine’s wedding for years.

  “That’s why I needed to come here,” Elaine says. “I feel so guilty being around Mom right now.”

  None of us even question Elaine on this. I know I’d be getting out of Blythe, too, if I had that kind of news waiting for Aunt Ruth.

  “I was hoping maybe I wouldn’t have to tell her for a while,” Elaine says. “If all of you can keep a secret.”

  I can’t look at Cassie or Jerry or even Doug. The words coming from Elaine’s mouth are words that could have come from my mouth a day or so ago. What is it with our family and secrets? We may not be a fully matched family with all of the same grandparents, but we sure seem to share the same habit of hiding the truth when we see trouble coming our way.

  “You’re sure you understood Gary’s mom?” I say gently. I know that there is a lot of stress in planning a wedding just as there is stress in planning a funeral, but I simply can’t believe anyone would expect to keep Aunt Ruth away from Elaine’s wedding. The mother of the bride always has to be there.

  “Gary’s mom and I talked on the phone for an hour this afternoon,” Elaine says. “I know what she said. I just can’t imagine telling my mom.”

  “I can understand why you’d want a place to stay then,” Cassie says with a nod. “You’re certainly welcome to spend the night here.”

  I add my nod. Elaine isn’t looking as relieved as I thought she would.

  “Actually, I was hoping someone would help me tell Mom about the cruise,” Elaine says then.

  There is dead silence in the room.

  “Oh, no,” Jerry says as he steps away from Elaine.

  “We’ll give you moral support, of course,” I add as I force myself not to take a step away. For once, I’m kind of glad I’m only half cousins with Elaine. Jerry has more duty here than I do.

  But Elaine must not see it that way. She’s looking at me instead of Jerry and I’ve got to admit it’s making me nervous.

  “I was hoping you could tell her,” Elaine finally says. She’s still got her gaze pinned on me. “You’re so good with bad news.”

  “Oh, no,” I say. And, trust me, I’m not that good with bad news. Granted, with all my fumbling, I’m called upon to say enough difficult things, but practice doesn’t always make perfect. “I couldn’t.”

  Cassie pats Elaine on the shoulder. “You’ll be able to do it yourself. You just need a good night’s sleep and you’ll do fine. We’ll help you think of what to say.”

  Remembering how upset Aunt Ruth can get makes me think of something else. I turn to Elaine. “Does your mom know you’re going to spend the night here?”

  “I left a note.”

  “I wish we had more sleeping space,” Cassie adds. She’s looking around with her hostess expression as though she’s expecting to see another room spring into being. It doesn’t happen. “There’s really only the floor left.”

  I tell myself I need to give Cassie a larger percent of the rent now that all of my relatives have decided to come and stay with us. Cassie may be closer to me than my half family, but there are limits and I think we’ve reached them.

  Doug helps Jerry carry in the ficus plants from the pickup and then he leaves.

  “He’s okay,” Jerry says after Doug leaves. “You wouldn’t know he got dunked.”

  “He didn’t get baptized, he made a commitment,” I say.

  I look at Jerry’s grinning face and I wonder why I bother.

  “I knew you know stuff like that. I’m still waiting for John 3:16,” he says.

  I give him a look as I take the seat cushions off the sofa. “Here, you can strap these together to make a pillow bed for Elaine.”

  Elaine drapes her bagged wedding dress over the table. I can see the pattern of the lace through the plastic at the bottom and I wonder how such a dress could inspire so many tears.

  “I think I’m too upset to sleep,” Elaine says.

  I still have the air mattress. Cassie has the bed. And Jerry has the Hide-A-Bed in the living room

  “It’ll all work out,” I say, even though I know it might not.

  Cassie and I would usually talk a few minutes as we got ready for bed, but Elaine is here and I’m afraid if we all start talking that she’ll start crying and we’ll be up all night. I do manage to ask Cassie if she had a good time at dinner and she smiles so I’m assuming that’s a good report. She asks if I had a good dinner with Doug and I can’t think of a code for the jumble of feelings that question brings up so I just shrug. I’ll tell her more about it tomorrow.

  The lights are all off and I’m looking at the outline of the window in Cassie’s bedroom. Earlier, I put the air mattress in front of it so I could look out and see the stars. Of course, there’s so much street light that I don’t see any. Still, I think of Joey and his gold stars.

  Then I hear a sniffle. Then another one.

  “Elaine?” I ask a little reluctantly.

  I hear a full-blown sob now from the direction of Elaine’s pillow bed. “I can’t get married without any of my family there.”

  “A wedding is just a day. It’s the marriage that counts,” I say. “Your family will be part of that.”

  For a moment, there’s silence again and I think I’ve made my point.

  “I still don’t think it’s right that Gary’s mom is taking over the wedding. She’s not my mom,” Elaine says.

  “What does Gary say?”

  “He’s busy studying. He’s got some papers to finish before the wedding.”

  I get an uneasy feeling. “Elaine, when was the last time you saw Gary?”

  Elaine gives a subdued sob. “The party.”

  “The engagement party?” I ask. “That’s almost two weeks ago!”

  “He’s been studying for our future,” Elaine says indignantly. “When you marry a doctor, you have to expect things like this.”

  “He’s a dentist,” I say.

  “I know.” Elaine begins to wail in earnest. “But he’s almost a doctor.”

  “Well, I’m sure he’d want you to get some sleep,” I say. “So try not to worry about things. We’ll figure out what to do in the morning.”

  Okay, so now I can’t sleep wondering about what kind of a man Elaine is marrying. Isn’t it just a little abnormal for a woman’s fiancé to not see her while the wedding plans are on? Especially when his mother seems so involved? I mean, it’s only a two-hour drive for him to get to Aunt Ruth’s house. Even if his parents are staying with him, surely there would be a Sunday afternoon when he could go say hi to Elaine even if he had to take his parents with him. I don’t have the heart to ask Elaine if she’s talked to Gary on the phone since the engagement party.

  I know everyone loves in their own way, but Gary seems as if he loves Elaine from the opposite side of the world. Either that or he’s afraid of his own mother and is letting Elaine take the brunt of his mother’s opinions, none of which are probably
easy to live with. I don’t think much of that kind of love. A man should stand with his bride not with his mother, at least some of the time. But then, I don’t know a lot about love.

  I think of Jerry trying to get me to recite the “For God so loved the world” verse. He thinks I don’t know the verse, but I do. I remembered so many of them tonight talking to Doug. I can’t help but think that Elaine would be better off relying on God’s love instead of this Gary’s love.

  Elaine could do worse than to look to her Bible. Of course, she won’t hear that opinion from me. I’m neutral in this one, too.

  Chapter Ten

  I had no idea it would be so hard to fix breakfast with three ficus trees crowding my back and a good-sized begonia sitting on top of the refrigerator next to me.

  “I think they’re too large to move out to the fire escape,” Cassie says as she frowns at the plants. “I didn’t think of that.”

  Cassie is wearing an aqua-blue sweatshirt this morning.

  “I can move them up against this wall,” Jerry says as he yawns. He’s wearing a different brown T-shirt this morning. Apparently, man of fashion that he is, he has two. He’s already straightened up his blankets and is pushing the mattress part of the Hide-A-Bed back under so we can all sit on the sofa. Cassie and Elaine go over and sit there now. They both look tired and the day has just begun.

  Cassie looks around and says a little numbly, “I’ll have to think about what to do with the plants, I guess.”

  Neither Cassie nor I got any sleep last night. When Elaine wasn’t crying, she was talking in her sleep. She wasn’t saying anything we could make out, but there was a lot of whimpering. The funny thing is that I started to have more compassion for Elaine as the night wore on and not less. In all her fussing, she was just a little girl who wanted somebody to rescue her. I can relate; I used to feel the same way.

  “I’m going to tell Gary’s mother I won’t do the cruise,” Elaine announces for the tenth time this morning. She’s got some frilly ivory blouse thing happening today and her makeup is within the lines so I guess she’s better. When I first glimpsed the lace it reminded me of the wedding dress, which has been moved to Cassie’s bed so we can use the table for the breakfast of cooked oatmeal that I am fixing everyone. It’s Thursday and I think we might need some fortification to cope with the rest of the week. Oatmeal should be good for that.