Confessions of a Wedding Musician Mom

by Jennifer McCoy Blaske

  “True!” Trevor bellowed.

  “No, Trevor,” Stephanie said, “that’s actually false. It says here that lice are not signs of unwashed hair or poor hygiene. In fact, they thrive in clean hair.” She turned to Katie. “Katie, can you get that bug out of Angela’s hair?” Stephanie rushed over to the cabinets. “We can put it in … this.” She pulled out a small Tupperware container. “Trevor, go down to the playroom and bring us the magnifying glass. It’s on the brown shelf by the Snap Circuits Kit.”

  “Here Mom, I’ve got it.” Katie walked over to Stephanie with her fingers carefully pinched together as Trevor ran out of the room.

  “Wait, so we’re going to study the louse?” I said.

  “Sure, why not?” said Stephanie. “Okay everybody, gather around.”

  Trevor returned with the magnifying glass.

  “Can anyone tell me how many legs it has?” Stephanie asked.

  Danny bobbed his index finger a few times and then yelled, “Six!”

  “Very good, Danny!” Stephanie smiled at him.

  Danny beamed.

  “Can I hold the magnifying glass?” Angela asked.

  “Sure.” Stephanie handed it to her and stepped out of the way.

  “Wow,” said Trevor, leaning over to see. “It’s got, like, ridges.”

  “And you can see its eyes!” Danny said. “Cool!”

  “Eww!” Angela yelled again.

  Stephanie clapped her hands. “Oh, I know!” She grabbed a pair of scissors off the counter and started running her fingers carefully through Angela’s hair. “Angela, if you don’t mind, I’m going to snip a little piece of hair that has a nit … ah! Here we go!” She clipped a strand of hair off Angela’s head and put it inside the Tupperware next to the louse. “What does the nit look like under the magnifying glass?”

  “Here Angela, let me hold the magnifying glass!” Katie snatched it from her. “Oh wow, it looks like it’s stuck to the hair!”

  “So, how would you describe the shape and color?” Stephanie asked.

  “It’s kinda like … like a seed,” said Trevor, squinting.

  “Yeah,” Katie said. “It’s a little pointy on one end, and bumpy on the other.”

  “So does anyone have any questions about lice?” asked Stephanie.

  “Yeah, I have one,” I said, waving my hand. “How do we get rid of all of them?”

  “Hmm.” Stephanie went back to her laptop. “Let’s see … head lice are killed with over the counter medicines applied to the scalp, followed by careful removal of all nits with a special lice comb.”

  “Okay, kids,” I sighed, “party’s over. We’ve got to head to the drug store and then go straight home.”

  The kids completely ignored me and continued studying their specimens.

  “Of course,” said Stephanie, “you could always call the Lice Lady. But she is kind of expensive.”

  “The Lice Lady?” I echoed.

  “Yeah, I’ve heard some of my friends talk about her.” Stephanie shut the laptop. “She’ll come to your house and pick out all the nits for you.”

  “Really?” I said. “That’s someone’s job?”

  “Uh-huh. And from what I hear, she gets an awful lot of business.”

  “Well, that’s very interesting, but I think we’ll save our money and pick them out ourselves.” I stood up, crumpled my soda can, and tossed it in the recycling bin. “Kids! Come on! We’ve got to head to the drug store, then go home and kill all of Angela’s new little friends.”

  “Huh?” Angela looked startled. “What friends?”

  “The lice.” I sighed.

  “Oh,” said Angela.

  “Good luck,” I told Stephanie as I headed to the door with the kids trailing behind me. “I hope your kids don’t have them too.”

  “I’ll check.” Stephanie’s face brightened. “If they do have any, that’ll give us more specimens to study. Ooh, and the kids can make some sketches in their science journals.”

  “Of course,” I said as we walked out the door. “Have fun growing your germs.”

  “We will!” she called after us.

  * * *

  Two hours later Danny, Angela, and I were all piled in the kids’ bathroom. I’d checked Danny and found some nits in his hair as well.

  He was sitting on the edge of the tub with a towel around his neck and chemicals in his hair. Angela was sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the toilet as I tugged at her hair with the lice comb.

  “Eww, this stuff stinks!” Danny whined. “How much longer?”

  I looked at the timer. “Only two minutes until we wash it out.”

  “It’s getting in my eyes!” he yowled.

  “Wipe them with the end of your towel.” I gave him a quick glance before turning back to Angela’s hair. “Ugh! Now I lost my place.” I flipped a few strands of Angela’s hair back and forth. “Did I already do this section?”

  “How much longer?” Danny moaned.

  I heard the garage door open.

  Steve appeared in the bathroom doorway a couple minutes later. “Hey, what’s up?”

  “They both have lice.” I looked at him grimly. “Angela, stay still! This is difficult enough without you moving your head around.”

  “Are you almost done?” she whined.

  “Almost done? I’m not even close. I’m not even halfway.”

  The timer went off.

  “Rinse it off! Rinse it off!” Danny yelled.

  “Hang on,” I said, sliding two more dead bugs off the comb with a tissue.

  “Uh … is there anything I can do to help?” Steve looked like he dreaded hearing the answer.

  I set down the comb, leaned toward the tub, and turned on the water. “Yes. Go get your razor and shave both kids’ heads.”

  “Hey!” Angela shrieked.

  “Mommy’s just kidding,” said Steve.

  “Just barely.” I started scrubbing Danny’s head. When I was finished, I wrapped it with the towel. “Just … sit here for a minute. Maybe Daddy can start working on your hair now.”

  “What about you?” Steve asked.

  “What about me?” I snapped, plopping back to my seat on the toilet and snatching the lice comb. “I already have plenty to do! I’ve been working on Angela’s hair for over an hour, and I still haven’t even …”

  “Ow!” Angela squealed. “Mommy, you’re hurting me!”

  “Sorry,” I muttered, relaxing my grip on her hair.

  “No,” said Steve. “I mean, what about you? Do you have lice too?”

  The comb stopped in mid-air as I looked at him. “What? What are you talking about? Adults don’t get lice.”

  Steve shrugged as he walked toward me. “Why not? We have hair too. You always lie down next to the kids when you read them their bedtime stories. Who knows, maybe something crawled in your hair then.” He flipped my hair around for a few seconds. “I don’t see any bugs. You have a little dandruff though.”

  “Dandruff?” I tensed up. “Does … does it look like little seeds?”

  Steve fingered my hair a little more slowly. “Kind of.” He paused and pulled at a strand. “And it won’t slide off either. It’s almost like it’s stuck to your hair or something.”

  “NOOOO!!” I buried my head in my hands. “Those are lice eggs!”

  “So Mom has bugs too?” Danny leaped up from his spot on the tub. “Cool!”

  “What about Daddy?” Angela asked.

  Steve and I exchanged glances. We switched places without saying a word. The kids joined me in rummaging through their father’s hair.

  It occurred to me that some families spend their evenings eating popcorn and watching a Disney movie, while other families sit around the kitchen table playing a game of Uno or Apples to Apples Junior. We, on the other hand, had family bonding time as we gathered together in the bathroom picking the bugs out of each others’ hair.

  “Anything?” Steve asked.

  “Here’s a co
uple little white things,” said Angela.

  I looked closely where her fingers were and exhaled loudly. “I cannot believe this.”

  “I’m guessing that’s a yes,” Steve said.

  “So we’re all growing bugs in our heads?” said Danny, happily digging through Steve’s hair. “That is so cool!”

  “Yeah, it’s just lovely.” I turned around and headed out of the bathroom.

  “Hey, where are you going?” asked Steve.

  “I’m officially done,” I said over my shoulder. “I’m calling the Lice Lady.”

  I got Crystal the Lice Lady on the phone. She informed me of a few things.

  First, the money and time I’d spent treating Danny and Angela had been a complete waste. Apparently, the drug store lice treatments don’t even work because lice have built up resistance to them over the years.

  Second, we had to drench everybody’s hair in olive oil and cover our heads with shower caps. The idea was that all the little bugs would suffocate to death while we slept on greasy pillows that night.

  Third—well, after spending over half an hour scrubbing gobs of oil out of everybody’s hair—Crystal the Lice Lady would come over. She would pick every single nit and louse corpse off all four of our heads.

  And fourth, I would have to pay Crystal the Lice Lady a lot of money that we really didn’t have.

  When she was finished with us, I spent the afternoon vacuuming couch cushions, washing two loads of bed sheets in hot water, and running Bunny-Bun and some of the other popular stuffed animals through the dryer.

  I kept telling myself that it would be okay. Soon, I would be getting some wedding jobs and finally start bringing in some money. And it would all be okay.

  At least I really hoped so.

  Chapter Five

  As much as I hated to admit it, Stephanie was right. I had to get out there and meet other wedding professionals.

  I did a Google search and found a group called The Madison Wedding and Event Professionals. They were hosting a lunch and learn in a couple weeks.

  * * *

  The day of the lunch and learn I put on a skirt and high heels for the first time in almost two years. Then I headed off to the Midtown Terrace.

  I pushed open the glass doors and signed in at the registration desk in the front lobby. I walked into the ballroom and lurked around the edge, taking it all in. A DJ was set up against the back wall, and people—LOTS of people—were scattered around the room in clusters, chatting.

  Everyone seemed to know each other. As far as I could tell, I was the only person who was alone, wandering around aimlessly.

  I finally made my way to the bartender in the back corner, partly because it gave me something to do, and partly because I thought I might feel more comfortable if I had a drink in one hand. I got a glass of wine, but unfortunately, it didn’t really help.

  What exactly was I supposed to do? Most people were standing in groups of three or four. I couldn’t just butt into their conversations. And even if I did, what could I say?

  I continued meandering around the room until I finally saw another woman who was alone. Aha, here was my chance! I took a few steps in her direction, thinking of the best way to introduce myself.

  Before I got to her, a woman wearing gold hoop earrings and a red scarf that perfectly matched her boots came bouncing out of nowhere. “Julie!” she said, squealing and giving the woman who was previously alone a big hug. “I saw you were featured in Bridal Style. Congratulations!”

  I pivoted and kept walking. This must be what it feels like to be a guy in a singles bar, I thought.

  By the time I’d finished circling the room people were starting to migrate to seats, thankfully. I headed toward the nearest table and sat down.

  A dark-haired woman with glasses was in the seat next to me. She looked up and smiled. “Hi!”

  “Hi,” I said, relieved to finally introduce myself to someone. “I’m Heather. This is my first time here.”

  “Welcome, Heather!” she said. “You’ll love it. They get some really great speakers, and the food is always fantastic too.” She plucked a business card off a little stack she had on the table and handed it to me. “I’m Elizabeth Kirkpatrick, the catering and sales director at the West End Country Club.”

  “Nice to meet you, Elizabeth.” I reached into my purse and pulled my business cards out of a zippered compartment. “I’m a musician. I play the piano.”

  Her eyes lit up as she took my card. “Great! We could use some musicians to add to our preferred vendor list. Sometimes brides ask for referrals and I don’t have any names to give them.”

  I almost couldn’t believe what I was hearing. A catering and sales director at a country club who needs names of musician she can refer to her clients? Yes!

  “So,” said Elizabeth, setting my card down next to her stack, “do you have your own keyboard that you bring with you?”

  Nooo!! “Uh …” Could I get away with lying? “Well …” I guess not. “No. No, I don’t.”

  “Oh.” Elizabeth’s smile faded. “Oh. That’s too bad. We don’t have a piano at the country club, so we would need any musicians to have their own instruments.” She shifted her weight slightly and started talking to the person sitting on the other side of her.

  Aargh!!

  Of course I needed a portable keyboard. Had I been thinking that every building in the world was furnished with a nice piano? And even if they all were, what about outdoor weddings? I felt so stupid I could slap myself.

  I was in the middle of wondering what it would cost to buy a full-sized keyboard, a decent-looking stand, and a traveling case when I heard an announcement.

  “Welcome to the Midtown Terrace, and to today’s lunch and learn!” said a woman at the front of the room.

  She had a ton of dark wavy hair, a short skirt, long legs, and the spikiest high heels I’d ever seen.

  “I’m Erica Cantrell, president of Madison Wedding and Event Professionals, as well as the owner of Magical Moments Event Planning.” She paused for a moment to let that sink in as she flashed a huge smile. “As you probably know, we still have plenty of booths available for our semiannual Beautiful Bridal Bazaar which is next month. As you know, this is the largest bridal show in the entire Madison area and surrounding counties. We’re expecting six hundred brides to attend, so you want to make sure you get your chance to meet them face to face. In the middle of your tables you’ll find cards with more information about the Bazaar and how to register.”

  A bridal show—of course! If I registered for this show and got to meet even a few of those six hundred brides, I’d be sure to book a bunch of weddings. I leaned forward and plucked one of the glossy cards off the center of the table.

  Taking a sip of my wine, I read about the event that would be my ticket to success … until I saw the price and nearly choked. I flipped the card over, desperately hoping that maybe the number was some sort of group rate and the real price was somewhere on the back. No. That was the real price.

  As waiters came around the tables with plates of chicken and asparagus, Erica Cantrell—president of Madison Wedding and Event Professionals, as well as the owner of Magical Moments Event Planning—announced the speaker. I stared vaguely in the speaker’s direction.

  I couldn’t stop reading and rereading the card in my hand, trying to decide if we could afford the hefty price tag. It was a ton of money that we didn’t have, especially now that I had to buy a keyboard on top on everything else.

  But what were my options? I couldn’t just sit around and hope people would find me. And I certainly wasn’t going to give up before I’d even started. Steve and I had agreed that if I was going to do this, I should do it right. But still …

  As I debated my dilemma more than I listened to the speaker’s advice about building an email list, I noticed Erica Cantrell—president of Madison Wedding and Event Professionals, as well as the owner of Magical Moments Event Planning—several tables away. She leane
d toward the person next to her, whispered something, then laughed silently as she tossed back her cascading locks.

  Wait a minute. Maybe I didn’t have to spend a fortune on advertising, at least not right away. Instead of spending hundreds of dollars on a bridal show, why couldn’t I first try some strategic networking? What if I could somehow say something to Erica Cantrell—president of Madison Wedding and Event Professionals, as well as the owner of Magical Moments Event Planning—that would completely win her over, cause her to remember the charming strawberry-blond piano player, and inspire her to refer me not only to her many brides, but also to her slew of wedding vendor friends?

  The waiters came around with little plates of strawberry shortcake as we applauded the speaker. I was quite proud of my clever, and inexpensive, plan. All I had to do was come up with something brilliant to say while I had dessert …

  Wait. Erica was standing up, slinging a black purse over her shoulder. She was leaving right now.

  I snatched my business cards off the table, jammed them in my purse, and nearly tipped over my chair as I leaped to my feet. My purse thumped across my back as I hurried across the room as fast as I could in heels.

  It wasn’t fast enough. Erica disappeared. There were still three tables between me and the ballroom door, but I was determined not to give up. I rushed past the tables, through the lobby, and out the front door.

  Erica was chatting with a woman with straight blond hair as they walked across the parking lot. I was running out of time. Any minute now she would get in her car and drive away, and I would have missed any chance to …

  “Excuse me!” I blurted out as I scurried across the parking lot.

  Erica and the blond woman glanced over their shoulders.

  At that very moment, I tripped and went flying forward. I frenetically took several probably ridiculous-looking steps, but at least they kept me from landing face down on the pavement.

  “Ahem,” I said, straightening up and smoothing my hair.

  Erica and her friend turned completely around to face me. I thought I saw them exchange amused looks.