by Cynthia Dane
“Now, honey,” Luna said, while Selena ran to the master bathroom and left Jasmine alone with her mother and Nadia. “We need to talk about…” Luna lowered her voice, “tonight.”
Jasmine stared at her mother as if she hailed from another planet. “Mom,” she said, “I’m not a virgin, as you have plainly seen before.”
Nadia raised her eyebrows but didn’t say anything. She did, however, slowly inch away, because any discussion about her boss’s sex life set her on edge. Can’t imagine why.
“I know you’re not! That’s not what I was going to talk about.” Luna sat up straight on the bed, her loose muumuu doing nothing to hide her saggy middle-aged breasts beneath. I really hope she wears a bra today. Please, Mom, just this once. “That would be awkward.” The spark in her eyes told Jasmine that was a joke.
“All right. Then what?”
“Well, I know that you and Ethan… are very experienced together.” At that, Nadia got up and took Selena’s place in the bathroom as the maid of honor bounded out. “So were your father and I when we got married.”
“Mom.”
“Now hear me out. My mother didn’t tell me, but I always wanted to make sure to tell you. The first time you make love as husband and wife…”
“Hell yeah! I’m in time for the sex talk!”
“…Is a very blessed experience. It will be unlike what you’ve ever experienced before. If you’re lucky at all…” Luna leaned forward and patted her daughter’s stomach. “You’ll start the next phase of your life already.”
“How many times do I have to tell you my fiancée is infertile?”
“Doesn’t matter. Your father and I did a helluva dance yesterday.”
“You could say that again.”
Raul showed up early, in a complete tizzy since he often didn’t have the chance to do such a high profile wedding for a client. He brought Jasmine over to her vanity and piled his supplies high. The day had officially begun.
People ran this way and that, constantly coming in and out of the master suite, which was the bridal base for the day. Ethan had slept in his father’s guest room on the other side of the manor the night before, and as far as Jasmine knew, a few of the guys were showing up to make sure he actually looked nice for his wedding day. Last I heard, Henry Warren was bringing his personal stylist. Ethan had never had a personal stylist on call before. Jasmine wondered how that made Adrienne feel, since she had often talked about doing Ethan’s hair for the wedding.
That named woman stopped by more than once, first in a simple black shift, and then her… pantsuit. Holy shit! Everyone in the room gaped in awe as Adrienne Thomas, the usually regal femme with her sleek, short-skirted dresses, came waltzing in wearing a tailored black Armani suit with silk royal purple cummerbund, no tie, top two buttons of her shirt undone. Raul dropped his comb. Selena whistled.
“Hello again!” Adrienne showed herself in, her hair the most pristine braid in a bun Jasmine had ever seen. Was that done by the personal stylist in Ethan’s dressing room? Furthermore, is she hanging out in a man’s dressing room? Jasmine didn’t want to dwell on that. Selena would get jealous. “Oh my goodness, Jasmine, your hair is turning out divine!” She shuffled forward on her black stilettos, poking out from her trousers like a pair of flirty girls. “We still getting married today?” she said, not quietly enough.
“What do you mean… still getting married?” Selena asked, half-dressed in a slip.
“Oh, didn’t you hear?” Adrienne rested her elbow on Jasmine’s shoulder as Raul went back to combing out the other side of her hair. “Ethan can’t make the ceremony, so he’s asked me to stand in.” She winked at Jasmine. Cute. “Why do you think I’m in this getup?”
Nadia dropped the flowers she carried the moment she got a look at Adrienne.
“Hi!” Adrienne spun around, winking at her as well. “Is that your dress? It’s lovely!”
“I… uh… I gotta go.”
Great. Gearing up the drama for my wedding. Where was Eva Warren for a cat fight over Nadia? Actually, that might be a great distraction from the parents…
“My, what a great look!” Luna was positively beaming as she got a load of Adrienne in her best man’s – woman’s? – suit. “You must be Adrienne. I’ve heard so much about you.”
The look on Adrienne’s face said everything.
Jasmine didn’t pay much attention beyond that. Raul, one of the only men allowed to come in and out of the bridal suite – for Juan showed up not too long after, groaning about having to put on his suit in the bathroom across the hall – finished up Jasmine’s hair while the makeup artist took to her face.
They had the discussion of how she should look many times. A week ago, Jasmine went into the salon to not only get her customary wash and trim, but to try out some bridal hairstyles. She didn’t have her dress on, obviously, but she brought a picture from the most recent fitting. They originally wanted to do an updo, but both agreed that Jasmine looked too little like herself. “We could do the updo for the ceremony and then take it down for the reception,” Raul suggested, “but it’s up to you.”
I want to look as much like the woman Ethan imagines as possible. “Let’s take it down,” Jasmine had said. So that’s what they did now, fluffing out Jasmine’s hair and putting in as many curls as possible. I don’t look that much different from usual. Just fancier. She looked like the day Ethan proposed to her. That made her smile.
“All right, I am here!” That thick-accent echoed down the hallway, sending Adrienne to the groom’s suite. Not hanging around, huh? Drama, drama, drama. “Let’s get this vestito on the bride!”
Bonita took over the room as she and her two assistants fluttered in and dictated this woman move here and that man get his ass out. Jasmine was hauled from her vanity to the center of the room, where a dais was placed for her to stand upon while three Italian women mauled her.
The dress was brought out of its casement, the gold detailing shimmering in the bright, natural light coming through the bedroom windows. Everyone oohed and aahed at the glistening gold and beadwork moving through the room as Bonita made Jasmine model it, making sure it moved well. This is more about her than me. Jasmine would go along with it. She wasn’t enjoying all the attention on her anyway – the more for Bonita? The better. Although Jasmine hoped she could get out of the heels soon enough. There would be plenty of time for heels later.
Two hours before the ceremony was due to begin, the bridal party was done up in their dresses, hair, and makeup. Nadia was radiant with her loose red hair and the purple dress swishing through the air whenever she walked. Selena was feistier, a bit tomboyish but still delightfully feminine with a loose black bun and enough jewelry to make her rattle with every step. Juan put on the suit and allowed Raul to smooth out his hair – actually, Raul insisted, refusing to let a single member of the bridal party go out without his touch to their heads.
Adrienne and Jenny came to the room to confirm that the men were finished having their bridegroom photos taken in the garden. Now it was Jasmine’s turn, and after she received further confirmation that Ethan would not see her in the dress, she allowed her mother and Nadia to help her down the grand staircase, where a number of help saw her in her regal glory. More than a few claps and whistles sounded in the main foyer as they hustled to the backyard. The ushers had done an admirable job relegating the early arrivals to a reception area to wait for the ceremony. Jenny made sure that no one saw Jasmine until the ceremony!
There were two photographers on hand. One was the professional Ethan hired to take their personal photographs. The other was the lead photographer for a society magazine, who would not only use his photos exclusively for an upcoming spread, but also sell a few choice photos (that the Coles approved of) to newspapers and other magazines around the world. Jasmine tried not to think about that as she was posed around fountains and flowers, the sun reaching its zenith and spreading sunshine all over the gardens.
After that, s
he was led back inside and upstairs, where they would wait for the ceremony to begin. Adrienne and Nadia were selected to represent the two parties at the front door when guests began to arrive in earnest. Selena should have been, but everyone agreed that she didn’t quite have the decorum they were going for. Suited Jasmine fine. She was happy to have her friend there to crack jokes as the nerves began to mount.
I’m getting married. She thought that while her mother kept excusing herself to wipe tears from her eyes. Today I will begin my journey as a married woman. She thought that while people continued to make sure she looked “perfect,” and speculated how Ethan would react when he saw his beautiful bride tour the catwalk through the garden.
Ah, the catwalk. Carpenters had worked around the clock to create the perfect flow. Jasmine would leave from the bedroom balcony and walk among the guests, arranged in an intricate pattern through the garden, and then to another catwalk connecting to the main balcony where she and Ethan would be married overlooking God and country. The officiant arrived with only a half hour to spare, going over the last minute vow details with Jasmine before going off to bother Ethan about the same thing. Jasmine had only that half hour to sit down and rest up before the ceremony. She perched on a stool in the middle of the bedroom, where her gown splayed around her in all its golden, glittery grandeur.
One by one people had to leave to do various things, until – for a mere five minutes – Jasmine was left alone in the bedroom. She looked at herself in the vanity mirror, marveling at her hair, her light makeup, and the lack of jewelry she decided to go without.
Something squeaked beneath the bed. Blackbeard braved coming out, much to Jasmine’s surprise.
“What are you doing here?” She thought Belinda had rounded up the cats and locked them in the salon, where they wouldn’t be bothered nor bother anyone else. Yet here Blackbeard was, mewling in self-pity over everything that was going on around him. “I thought you went to the other room…”
He yowled, sitting down and swishing his tail as a glint of Jasmine’s dress caught his eye.
“I’m sorry about all of the commotion. It’ll be over soon enough.”
He cocked his head, eyes traveling up the golden lines on her skirt. Although Jasmine knew this was kitty curiosity, she couldn’t help but imagine Blackbeard taking her in. Well, he was the closest thing to a child she had.
While Jasmine twiddled her fingers, she said, “We’ve come a long way, huh? Your momma went from living in that shack to being the new missus of this mansion. We didn’t do too bad, I suppose.”
Blackbeard yawned. Jasmine wanted to pick him up for a hug, but knew better than to dare. If he didn’t claw her up, he’d get black fur all over her wedding dress. That would be so like me, though.
Someone opened the door. Blackbeard shot beneath the bed again.
Jasmine expected anyone: Raul, her mother, Bonita, even Adrienne. Instead, she saw two small feet gingerly step before her, followed by a very petite, yet very pregnant woman.
“I wanted to come see you before all the fuss in a few minutes,” Monica said, dressed in a pale red dress that conservatively hid her bulge. She held a felt box in her hands. “And to give you this. By the way, you are beautiful.”
Jasmine smiled. “Thank you. Not half as beautiful as you were a few months ago.”
“I’ll accept the compliment and say it was pregnancy hormones making me glow.”
“Can’t say I have that going for me today.”
Monica glanced her over again. “This dress is certainly new. Anything blue?”
Jasmine’s smile grew. “My garter, of course.”
“Oh, of course. How convenient.” Monica rolled her eyes. “Something old?”
The bride gestured to her crimson jewelry set, minus the collar. “Do you like it?”
“It’s very befitting. Practically your trademark.” Monica pulled up another stool and sat down, her stomach settling deep into her lap. “Now… how about something borrowed?”
“No, can’t say I have that.”
Monica opened the felt box. “Now you have something.”
Jasmine thought she was seeing things. A diamond choker peered up at her, sparkling more than the gold in her dress. “Is that…”
“The one I wore at my wedding, yes.” Monica pulled it out of the case and handed it to Jasmine, who gasped. “I want you to have it.”
“I couldn’t!”
“You can, and you will. I insist.” When Jasmine still wasn’t taking it, Monica got up to wrap the diamond choker around the bride’s throat. “Then you can give it to another woman like us on her wedding day.”
Jasmine sat still as Monica latched the choker. The diamonds settled nicely on Jasmine’s chest, and when she looked in the mirror, she was surprised to find that it did not clash with the rest of her look. Does this symbolize what I think it does? Jasmine had rather hoped to leave the kink out of the wedding. Like Ethan, she preferred that to be private.
This didn’t seem too bad, though, especially if it came from Monica.
“I only intended to wear this for my wedding, since I couldn’t very well wear my usual collars.” Monica sat back down, sighing. “Clashed too much, or was too garish for a bridal outfit. “It was going to sit in a box forever. I figure this way… it will get some good use.”
“Thank you.”
“I like to think it’s pretty lucky. Henry and I have been very happy so far.”
“You two are a great couple.”
“So are you and Ethan. Speaking of whom…” Monica paused for effect. “I came from his room, and I’m the only one who has noticed how nervous he is.”
“Nervous? Him?”
“Of course. He’s marrying the woman of his dreams. He’s in utter disbelief right now. He hides it well, but I can tell. You’re holding up better than he is.”
Now that Jasmine didn’t believe. “Do you think he’ll know what this means?” Jasmine touched the choker.
“He’s a perceptive man. He’ll recognize it as the one I was wearing at my wedding.” They smiled at one another. “We’ll start a crazy, kinky trend. The papers will have a field day trying to figure out why so many women are getting married in the same choker. It’s a cult!”
Jasmine laughed, the dress tightening around her midsection. Ugh, thanks, Bonita. Why not throw a corset on her too? Make sure she really couldn’t breathe. Now there’s something blue… my face. “Thank you so much. You’ve been a good friend to me.”
Monica’s face went back to its usual reserved countenance. “No, Jasmine, you’ve been the good friend. I couldn’t have ever asked for a better one. You and Ethan were both there for me when I needed friends the most. You’re terrific people, and I’m proud to call you my friends.” She smiled again. “You’ll always be the first person I invite to my parties.”
“Well, there’s that.”
Monica looked around the bedroom, eyes lingering on the now mussed bedspread. “It’s been a while since I was last in here.”
Jasmine wanted to ignore that, but decided to embrace it. “I’m still finding some of your old clothes in here. Unfortunately, they’re all too small for me.”
“Oh, dear…”
“Don’t worry. I’ve made sure they’ve been repurposed well.”
“Good! I had completely forgotten about them.” Monica rested her hands on her stomach. “You truly are wonderful, Jasmine. Ethan would be a total idiot to never marry you, because you’re absolutely perfect for him.”
“We’ve gathered that’s your opinion.”
“The man did not take subtleties well. I eventually had to lean across the restaurant table when we were having lunch and tell him to fucking marry you so help me God.”
That took Jasmine aback. “Did you really do that?”
Monica shrugged. “More or less.” She glanced at her diamond-studded watch. “Ah, I should let you finish getting ready.” In time, too, because the whole crew was bursting through the door
, carrying Jasmine’s tiara and crying that she was about to get married. “I’ll be in that front row with tears in my eyes.”
The next fifteen minutes were a total blur. Raul and Bonita fought over how to place Jasmine’s tiara… farther up? Farther back? She eschewed a veil, choosing to instead go out with her crimson barrette tucked behind her tiara and tiny diamonds threaded through her hair. She had worried this would take too long to do, but Bonita and Raul finally collaborated to get it done in record time.
“Oh my… is that my Jazzy?”
Saul stood in the doorway, wearing a white linen shirt and loose khaki-colored trousers. It was the nicest Jasmine would ever get her father to dress, and she was glad of it. I guess his pants sort of match the gold in my dress. Jasmine was close to tears again when her father approached, here to take her hand to walk her down the aisle, so to speak.
“It is, Dad.”
“Wow.” He put his hands down, gob smacked. Behind him, Luna rubbed his back and imparted her own smile upon Jasmine. “I never thought I’d see the day you truly looked like a princess. Like in those fairy-tales I used to read you.” He coughed, covering up his emotions. “Of course now I realize what chauvinistic drivel those all were…”
“Saul,” Luna said, stern. “Not today.”
Jenny ushered the bridal party out to their stations so the ceremony could begin. Jasmine and her father were last, and while Blackbeard’s tail appeared beneath the bed, the two of them got up and followed Jenny to the sliding window overlooking the bedroom balcony.
“That’s a lot of suits,” Selena said, holding her bouquet of garden flowers. She peered out at the sea of guests in the backyard before Jenny jabbed her to get her ass out on the catwalk.
Jasmine couldn’t hear the music, but she knew a small, live orchestra played serene music to accompany the bridesmaids (and Juan) meeting up with the groomsmen on the catwalk. Although it may have looked silly to some, Juan walked beside one of Ethan’s groomsmen, a friend from Harvard. Both men tried to look professional, but casual, sending off serious signals of I am the most heterosexual man here, helping out a friend, thanks!
