A Wedding in Truhart

by Cynthia Tennent

  “That’s all right. Just warn me next time. I’ll make sure to take Aunt Annie and Mom to the outlet mall. Maybe I could convince Aunt Addie to purchase shoes that were made in this century next time.”

  “Oh, Annie, do you think Mom is upset that we’re planning an Atlanta wedding?”

  I had been secretly relieved when Charlotte had mentioned her plans to hold the wedding in Atlanta. There was so much that needed fixing at the inn that I wasn’t sure we could handle a wedding. The last big event we had hosted was Harriet Knopf ’s ninetieth birthday party. “We completely understand why you want to get married here. Before tonight Aunt Addie was upset . . . but since she is the new belle of Atlanta, she may be coming around. How much do you think she drank?”

  “Who knows? Oh my God, did you see her try to give the Lowells’ financial adviser a lesson in ice fishing?”

  “That wasn’t nearly as bad as when she hoisted her leg up on the chair and readjusted her garters in front of Mrs. Lowell.”

  Charlotte drew her knees up and rested her chin in her hands. “That’s classic Aunt Addie! Where does she even buy garters these days?”

  “Believe me, I don’t even want to ask.”

  “Thank goodness I warned Henry. Now maybe he’ll believe all the stories I tell.”

  I looked over at Charlotte and put my hand on her arm. We had long since changed out of our dresses into T-shirts and loose shorts. “I am so glad you found someone who loves you as much as Henry seems to.”

  “Me too! Oh, Annie, he is so wonderful. And you know how worried I was about how his mother would handle Aunt Addie? He was twice as worried about how all of you would like his mother!”

  “Really?”

  “Well, come on. You had to have noticed. Don’t be polite. She is a bit uptight.”

  “Well, I don’t know . . .”

  “Annie! June Lowell is—well, she’s not Mom. Henry says his father was the grounded one in the family.”

  My antenna went up. Charlotte’s distress was more than just a fleeting concern.

  “How does she feel about you marrying her little boy?”

  “Henry won’t tell me what she says to him. I think it’s still taking time for her to adjust to the fact that her only son is marrying not only a Yankee but a small-town country girl. He says not to worry. I like his little sister, Jessica. Too bad she won’t talk to me. But his mother? She never seems happy. Henry says she is always like that. He says she would complain that her ice cream was too cold.”

  “Well, you can charm anyone, Charlotte.” I leaned back to take her picture and just before I released the shutter she stuck her tongue out.

  She grinned and put her hand out. “Annie! Stop it.”

  It was a common scenario, her making faces at me. Then she continued. “I guess I am being too critical. June can be nice. And I think we are growing a little closer. But she has already given me an initial guest list. It’s longer than the IRS tax code.”

  “Just how big is this wedding going to be?” I asked tentatively.

  “Henry and I insist it has to be below three hundred. But June has bigger ideas. Evidently her country club holds more than five hundred and she wants to fill every corner so she can break the record.”

  “Wow. It sounds, well, really fancy,” I said, wondering how our family would ever pay for such an extravagant celebration.

  “Don’t worry, Annie. Henry and I insist on paying for a lot of it. That is why we refuse to give in to June’s pressure.”

  “They say mothers-in-law are some of the biggest problems in marriages. It’s not going to get much better, Charlotte. Do you think you can handle her?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. If I thought Henry wanted me to change, I would have been out of this relationship so fast . . .” She took a deep breath and sat back. “But Henry tells me every single day that he loves who I am. He isn’t disappointed in a single thing about me.”

  “Why should he ever be disappointed? You are the best. Besides, you’re an Adler. ‘Our ancestors cleared virgin forests with their bare hands, rid our county of wolves, and—’ ”

  “ ‘—brewed beer for the town during harsh winters,’” we finished in unison. God knows we’d heard Aunt Addie say it often enough over the years.

  “We may be politically incorrect, but a little snobbery isn’t going to bring us down now,” I added.

  She giggled. I couldn’t see her face very well in the shadows, but I hoped she was feeling better.

  “So, is something going on with you and Nick Conrad?” Charlotte asked.

  “What? No. Nothing.” I heard her chuckle. “Oh, come on! Don’t laugh at me that way. I was something like ten years old when I had a crush on Nick. It isn’t even worth talking about.”

  “I don’t know, he certainly kept watching you tonight.”

  “Yeah. He was probably making sure I didn’t break the crystal.”

  “Annie, sometimes you are so blind! You are a beautiful woman who men find attractive.”

  “Don’t worry, I am going to be your maid of honor no matter what. You don’t have to compliment me.”

  Charlotte slapped me lightly on the shoulder. “Annie! You are one of those women people are drawn to. It’s not just that you are attractive, which you are, by the way. It’s that you are so, I don’t know, so easy to talk to, and I know Nick—”

  “Hey, you know how you said Henry loves everything about you and would never want you to change? Well, when Nick Conrad thinks of me, which isn’t very often, I might add, all he probably wishes is that I stay far away from him. Like another continent type of far away. He sees me as a walking booby trap.”

  “I think you’re exaggerating.”

  “Only the part about him actually thinking of me.”

  Charlotte paused for a moment. In the silence she drew a circle on her knee. “I don’t know . . .” she said.

  A siren blared in the distance and I tensed involuntarily. Sirens in cities always reminded me of a time in my life I wanted to forget about.

  Charlotte interrupted my thoughts with another giggle. “Well, it will be fun to see you dance with Nick. You know the maid of honor always dances with the best man,” she said in a light, singsong voice.

  I had forgotten about that. Good Lord! I was probably going to break his toes. Or worse, force him into a potted cactus!

  “Thanks a lot, Sis!” I said sarcastically, trying not to let myself get excited about the prospect of Nick holding me in his arms.

  “Are you going to be all right driving back to Michigan alone?”

  “Of course I will. Mom will take Aunt Addie on the plane and I will have a nice, relaxing ride home. Besides, you are saving my checkbook by letting me have the truck.”

  “It’s the least I can do for my maid of honor.”

  I stared out at the Atlanta skyline and wondered what Charlotte would say if she knew how much her giving me the car helped, and how tough things were back in Truhart. We hadn’t wanted to bother her with bad news. At least not yet.

  In the old days the inn was full of people playing euchre in the lobby. Self-described hackers lined our nine-hole golf course, despite the fact that the greens were indistinguishable from the fairways. And tipsy octogenarians sang camp songs by the piano in the dining room at midnight.

  But times had changed. Charlotte didn’t need to hear the depressing details of the inn’s slow demise.

  “I am really excited about your wedding, honey. This is going to be a wonderful time in your life.” I sounded as artificial as that jolly weatherman with the big hair on Charlotte’s TV show. Well, everyone on The Morning Show sounded like that, so maybe she wouldn’t notice my lack of sincerity.

  She didn’t.

  Instead, I heard all about her wedding plans. As Charlotte talked about Atlanta and the future, I looked at the twinkling lights of the city, thinking about how everything was changing, and felt a stab of pain in my gut.

  For a moment, I wished I
could reverse the clock and return to the good old days. The bucolic summers when we swam in the spring-fed lakes of Truhart, rode our bicycles through ruts in the dirt, and caught fireflies at dusk with leftover jelly jars.

  But things were going to be fine. Our inn was surviving somehow. Seven years after my father’s death, Mom was finally happy again. Even the town was managing to survive. I had no regrets about my life.

  I let the sounds of the traffic and the distant sirens engulf me. Cities never slept. They were always changing, always frantically buzzing with activity. Even after midnight. The lights and noises swirled around me in a restless haze.

  For a moment it seemed like I was the only person on earth who was standing still.

  Chapter 3

  If anyone ever thought gin, tequila, and women over age sixty were a good combination, I would tell them to take a good, hard look at my mother and my aunt the morning after the dinner party.

  The moans and the sounds of retching had started at 5:00 a.m. Of course Charlotte had slept through all of it. I, on the other hand, ran back and forth holding heads and trying to offer ice chips whenever possible. By the time Charlotte woke up, I was so tired I wanted nothing more than to stay in my sweatpants and camp out on her couch for the rest of the afternoon. But we had things to do.

  Charlotte paced the small hallway of her apartment. “Have you seen them? There is no way they are going to make the bridal boutique today.”

  I peeked through the crack in the door to the bedroom where both women slept in Charlotte’s bed now. Unfortunately she was right. “Do you want to cancel?”

  She shook her head. “It will take at least a month to get another appointment.”

  “Go without us. Don’t sacrifice for us,” Mom croaked from the bedroom.

  “I’ll take a picture,” I promised.

  Charlotte bit her lip and started to say something. But the phone rang and she turned away. I quickly showered and dried my hair, only applying a little mascara and lipstick before changing into a black pair of cropped pants and a gray tunic.

  “Are you excited?” I asked, running my hand along my sister’s shoulder. Something about the tenseness in her posture made me wonder if there was another reason she was uptight.

  “Well—” A buzzer interrupted her before she could finish. We moved into her living room. She pressed the intercom on the wall. “Yes?”

  “Mrs. Lowell is waiting for you in the lobby, miss.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Mrs. Lowell?”

  “I kind of invited her at the last minute while you were in the shower. She said I needed a mother’s helping hand in this.”

  Evidently a sister’s help wasn’t enough. I grabbed my camera bag and tried not to let the fact that June was coming bother me. It made perfect sense to have her help. After making sure Aunt Addie and Mom were comfortable, Charlotte and I took the elevator down to the first floor.

  “Actually we have more than just the two of us at the bridal salon,” she said avoiding my eyes.

  “Oh, don’t worry. Jessica is coming, right?” I linked my arm with hers.

  “No. There are more—” The elevator door opened and June, Jessica, and Scarlett Francis stood in the lobby. Great! No wonder Charlotte had looked like she’d just swallowed a spider.

  “Anne. I hope you slept well,” said June with a Southern charm that was a little too sweet for me.

  “Like a baby,” I lied in matching cadence.

  I shook Jessica’s reluctant hand and received no smile for my efforts.

  “Annie, have you met Scarlett Francis?”

  Only if glares were the same as handshakes. I held out my hand and looked Scarlett Francis straight in the eye. “Not technically, but I have heard all about you, Ms. Francis.”

  I felt her hand squeeze mine in a challenge before I let go. Perfect. This weekend was starting to rank right up there with getting braces and studying for final exams.

  We walked toward a driver who waited at the curb next to a shiny black limousine. I looked around for the movie star and realized the car was for us. At senior prom I had ridden in a ten-year-old limousine that my date’s uncle owned. But it had been nothing like this. I looked over at Charlotte before she ducked inside, and I mouthed “wow” and winked. She barely smiled.

  The conversation in the limousine was civil and small talk remained small. So small that I had time to study Charlotte. She still avoided looking at me.

  I wanted this wedding to be perfect for Charlotte. It was my responsibility to help her enjoy the day.

  After what seemed like an interminable car ride, we arrived at the Bellasposa Bridal Salon. Classical music and the faint smell of lilacs greeted us as we entered an ornate door underneath a swag-style awning. Two women I had been introduced to last night, Bebe and Patty, approached us.

  “It’s so good to see y’all again!” exclaimed Bebe. Charlotte’s tall, blond friend was wearing pink leggings and an orange tunic. I wished I could make color like that work for me.

  In addition to me—the maid of honor—Charlotte had recently chosen Jessica, Bebe, and Patty to be bridesmaids. Bebe and Patty would be fun. But I tried to imagine Jessica walking down the aisle with any sort of smile on her face and just couldn’t picture it.

  A severe-looking woman wearing all black greeted us with a clipboard.

  “It is such a pleasure, Ms. Adler,” she said to Charlotte as she looked at June and Scarlett. “And may I just say that I love The Morning Show and the GATE Network. Mrs. Francis, your guest appearances on the evening news recently have just kept me riveted to my seat.” Scarlett merely nodded and I wondered if the woman was serious. Scarlett delivered the evening news like a preacher giving a eulogy.

  We were led to a small room with a loveseat and two chairs. Bebe, Patty, and I took the cramped loveseat while Scarlett and June sat in the comfortable-looking armchairs. Jessica sat on the armrest of her mother’s chair and crossed her arms.

  “Honey, don’t do that with your arms, it makes you slouch,” June said, touching Jessica’s back. Jessica rolled her eyes. “Jessica is so excited to be included, aren’t you, dear?” Jessica regressed to a bored blank stare and it occurred to me that perhaps she could give Scarlett a run for her money as an anchor on the evening news.

  I pasted on a smile and glanced at Charlotte. She blinked rapidly as two men entered the room. One carried a professional photographer’s light, and another carried a large video camera.

  “Oh, here you are, Greg,” said Scarlett.

  “Sorry,” the man carrying the camera said as he held out a light meter and walked around the room. “We got lost on the way from the studio.”

  “That is what MapQuest is for, Greg. No excuses,” Scarlett said.

  I looked over at Charlotte, who was chewing on her lower lip as she studied the clipboard with wedding dress pictures. Seriously? I couldn’t believe what was happening. It had never been her style to blur the boundaries between her private life and her career.

  “Isn’t this fun, Annie? It’s going to be like that TV show. We all get to help Charlotte find the perfect dress and be in the feature story,” said Bebe, elbowing me.

  “Charlotte wasn’t sure at first,” said Patty, “but Scarlett convinced her that it would be perfect for The Morning Show. Every woman goes through the uncertainty of finding the right dress.”

  “And our viewers will be thrilled to be included,” finished Scarlett Francis.

  What was Charlotte thinking? My gaze rested on Charlotte and I detected the slightest wince as she finally met my eyes.

  “And since your mother couldn’t come, it will be so nice for her to see the dress we . . . Charlotte chooses,” added June.

  I said nothing, but ran my fingers through my hair.

  Charlotte’s lips compressed for a moment. “It will be nice for Mom and Aunt Addie to see.”

  “And Henry and everyone in Truhart, and of course your entire viewing audience,” I said, meeting her eyes. I wa
s amazed that Charlotte hadn’t warned me about this. Then again, she knew I would hate the idea of making her dress-shopping experience a spectacle. We always joked about those people on reality shows who lived their lives in front of the camera. I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth to block the words I wanted to say, forcing myself to relax.

  “Oh, come on, Annie, it will be fun,” Charlotte said in a quivering voice.

  The only person in the room who noticed the interchange was Jessica. She leaned forward in her chair, looking back and forth between us, for the first time interested in what was happening.

  “If it’s what you want, why not?” I said, sitting back and crossing my legs. I smiled at everyone around the room. “No problem.” My foot bobbed up and down and I kicked my camera bag under the couch. No need to take pictures for my mother now. The whole world would know what wedding dress Charlotte was wearing. The thought of the snarky comments from couches across America made me cringe.

  The camera crew set up around us while Charlotte changed into her first dress. Within moments her head popped out of the dressing room. “Are you ready, Greg?”

  He gave the thumbs-up, adjusted the video camera on his shoulder, and out walked Charlotte.

  I lost it.

  It sounds cliché, but I didn’t expect to feel so overwhelmed the first time my baby sister put on a wedding gown. The cameras and the people in the room fell away from me. Charlotte could have been walking down the aisle right then and I wouldn’t have felt any more emotional. She had grown up right in front of my eyes, from a little fat-kneed baby to an awkward, metal-mouthed teen. And now she stood beautiful and elegant in a simple strapless A-line gown that was gathered ever so slightly at the waist on one side. My throat tightened and my eyes grew alarmingly wet. I don’t know whether it was Bebe or Patty, but one of them handed me a tissue.

  And then everything turned bright. It took me a moment to realize that the camera was trained right on me. Wonderful! I had just rounded out the perfect wedding segment: emotional family member crying over her baby sister’s wedding dress.