Mother of the Bride

by Marita Conlon-McKenna

  ‘God, there’s so much to bloody do,’ moaned Ruth. ‘I don’t envy you trying to find a venue when every place you like has been booked about two years ahead by other brides, and they can only give you a Saturday in January. Then there’s dealing with a bride who has no idea what kind of a dress she wants, and then swans into Vera Wang and orders something as if her parents are millionaires. Making a guest list is bad, too. We argued for weeks about it, and two lots of our friends have never spoken to us since because we didn’t invite them. Then there was the table plan! Gordon and I and Rachel and Ian were days doing the bloody thing, and a fight still broke out at one of the tables. And his aunt complained afterwards that we had put her sitting near some cousin she couldn’t stand.

  ‘It was the most stressful time in our whole lives, and no wonder Gordon couldn’t even put a foot out of bed the next day, he was so bunched.’

  ‘He was drunk and hungover.’ Maeve laughed. ‘We all were. We had a great time at Rachel’s wedding, and that Vera Wang dress was worth every red cent!’

  Helen laughed. Maeve was a person whose glass was always half-full; while poor Ruth – who lived in a fine terraced house overlooking the park – was certainly the half-empty type. People were so different.

  ‘Well, I’m looking forward to it. I suppose when you have a daughter you always think that some day they’ll be getting married. Paddy and I have always planned for it. Did I tell you that Bibi Kennedy has already phoned to offer to make Amy’s wedding cake? She’s so good.’ Helen smiled. ‘Dan is lovely, and I hope that organizing the wedding will be a bit of fun.’

  ‘Sure,’ said Ruth, rolling her eyes to heaven. ‘All I’ll say is thank God we have only one daughter – and the three boys will have to paddle their own canoe.’

  ‘Well, we had great fun with Sally’s and Niamh’s weddings,’ insisted Maeve. ‘Bibi is such a friend. She made Sally’s cake and it was just gorgeous to look at and to eat. Having Sally’s in the marquee in the garden was a lot of work, what with organizing caterers and generators and the band and trying to get the garden prepared, but in the end we had such a lovely day. Niamh’s was bit easier, as the staff in the yacht club did a lot of the work.’

  ‘They were two of the nicest weddings I’ve been at,’ insisted Ger. ‘So relaxed and fun.’

  Helen had to agree. Maeve had a knack for entertaining and making people feel welcome, whether it was in her rather run-down house on Green Road or in the ancient mobile home she and her husband had down in Wexford.

  ‘The only thing I did find difficult,’ Maeve admitted, ‘was getting the bridesmaids’ dresses. I suppose with four daughters you get used to the girls fighting at home, but when it is out in the shops it’s a nightmare. Sisters never want to wear the same thing, and unfortunately bridesmaids have to. I don’t know what silly person started it, but it’s tradition.’

  ‘My two girls nearly murdered each other in Pronuptia,’ mumbled Fran, who had arrived back from the dentist. ‘I thought we’d be thrown out of the shop. After that I’d hide and pretend I wasn’t with them until they called me to see something.’

  Helen laughed, imagining the scene, glad of her friends and their support. They’d all be lost without each other, and had gone through so much together over the years. Their lunches and coffees and girls’ nights in each other’s houses, and dinners and annual weekends away, had kept her going over the years. Women friends were important, and at Amy’s party she’d been glad to see her daughter was supported by a great bunch of friends, too.

  ‘Will someone get me a straw for my coffee?’ asked Fran, pouring a load of cold milk into her mug. ‘My mouth is still numb. I had to get a massive filling, and I’m getting two more next week.’

  ‘Christ, we’re falling apart.’ Maeve laughed. ‘I have to get major dental work done next month: gum surgery and two crowns.’

  ‘I’ve got a bald patch at the back of my head,’ moaned Ruth. ‘The doctor says it’s from stress.’

  Helen and Fran couldn’t help themselves and burst out laughing.

  ‘I shouldn’t be laughing,’ mumbled Fran. ‘My mouth is numb. I could bite myself!’

  The rest of them had hysterics at Fran and the middle-aged state they were all in.

  ‘Helen, best of luck with your family get-together dinner,’ said Ger as they all got ready to leave the café. The other girls added their good wishes. Helen hoped things would go smoothly, as she walked home with Fran, debating what she should cook to impress the Quinns.

  Chapter Seven

  Amy wasn’t at all sure that getting both sets of parents and the two families together over dinner in her parents’ house was a good idea. She had suggested changing the venue to a restaurant like Roly’s, where everyone could relax, but her mother had taken umbrage and asked was she ashamed of her home?

  Amy loved her home, loved the house on Linden Crescent where she had grown up, and the small estate where she had played with her friends – but she was just conscious that it couldn’t stack up to the Quinns’ big Edwardian house in Rathgar. Carmel was usually very critical and would be biting in her comments, and Amy was worried that she’d look down on the O’Connors and their smaller house in Blackrock. One thing, however, that she had no worries about was her mum’s cooking as Helen O’Connor was a great cook.

  Paddy had set the big table in the dining room and lit the fire, and the polished mahogany table and sideboard looked warm and inviting. The best dinner service and linen was out, and their crystal glasses were on the table.

  ‘Welcome, welcome,’ he called, taking all the coats. ‘Helen will be here in a minute. She’s just checking on something in the oven.’

  Dan’s mother was wearing the most expensive black designer suit ever, her make-up immaculate, a smile fixed on her face as her glance flicked around the living room. Her grey-blonde hair was so straight it was almost stiff, and her long legs were made to seem even longer with the addition of a pair of beautiful high heels.

  Amy went in to the kitchen to get drinks for everyone.

  ‘Everything OK?’ Helen asked.

  ‘Yes, Mum, it all looks lovely, and the food smells great.’ Amy smiled, giving Helen a quick kiss as she realized that her mother was nervous, her face flushed. Helen was wearing a black skirt and a wrap-over cream blouse that she had got last Christmas, along with a pair of comfortable ‘mumsy’ Clarks’ black heels. Talk about a contrast to Dan’s mum!

  Ronan and Krista had collected Amy’s gran, and with two sherries inside her, Sheila Hennessy became like the Inquisition, trying to find out all about Dan’s family. She even had Carmel rattled when she asked her if Eddie’s family were anything to do with the Quinn boys who had served in the old IRA.

  Barney, their Labrador-collie cross, was wandering in and out, investigating everyone, sniffing their shoes and snuffling his black nose into their clothes. Carmel pushed him away, declaring that she wasn’t keen on dogs, which was the worst thing you could say to a doggy-mad family like Amy’s. Her father called Barney over immediately to sit beside him. Ciara, who was supposed to be helping, had skulked off to text on her phone instead, and Amy could tell something was up when Dan’s brother Rob arrived without Hannah. After a few beers he announced that their five-year relationship was over.

  ‘Things between us hadn’t been good for the past few months. I guess seeing the two of you made me realize that Hannah and I were not meant for each other. We had just got into a rut and had become used to being together. Marriage would have been a big mistake.’

  ‘God, I’m sorry,’ said Dan, consoling his big brother.

  They all sat in the living room with its French doors to the garden. It had three big comfortable couches. If you looked close it was obvious they were worn and had seen better days, and Amy was conscious that the place needed a lick of paint. But it was a warm, cosy room all the same, with the fire blazing in the grate, her parents’ collection of paintings and books on one wall, and a big sideboard covered in
framed family photos on the other. Luckily Amy had spotted Barney’s hair all over the cushions on the big armchair, and got it off just before Carmel sat down on it and destroyed her good suit with dog hair.

  ‘You have a lovely home,’ remarked Eddie.

  Helen was delighted. Ronan got up and poured more wine for everyone before they all moved into the other room to eat. There was home-made fish pâté with brown bread to start with, followed by Helen’s speciality of roast pork fillet with an apricot and almond stuffing and roast potatoes and carrots and peas.

  Amy’s dad stood up as he opened another bottle of wine. Then he looked around the table at everyone, and raised his wine glass.

  ‘A toast to the happy couple,’ he said. ‘A toast to Amy and Daniel, and a warm welcome to the Quinn family!’

  Everyone joined in, and Amy relaxed a little as the heavy atmosphere was broken.

  ‘And a toast to our two families, the Quinns and the O’Connors,’ proposed Edward Quinn from the other end of the table.

  Good old Eddie! Amy had a soft spot for Dan’s dad, who was a retired ear, nose and throat consultant, and would readily admit that he had earned his big house in Rathgar and summer house in Kerry by simply removing the tonsils and unblocking the ears of a huge number of Dublin’s children.

  ‘A family wedding,’ nodded Sheila, her grey hair freshly permed for the occasion. ‘I can’t believe my eldest granddaughter Amy is getting married. When is it?’

  ‘Gran, we haven’t decided anything yet,’ Amy said. ‘We haven’t even begun looking for a church or a place to have our reception.’

  ‘You must have some idea, surely,’ Carmel said.

  ‘It’s probably going to be in Ireland, but we’re not sure where,’ said Dan.

  ‘Well, thank heaven for that, Eddie. I’ve been invited to far too many big weddings overseas. The guests end up paying out a fortune on flights and accommodation so the bride and groom can save a fortune on their food costs! Of late we just say no to our friends the minute there is a mention of it! Honestly, it is becoming rather passé, especially when you’ve been to a load of weddings in Spain and Italy and France in some big hotel or chateau, or whatever they call it.’ She continued: ‘I’ve nothing against foreign weddings for, say, a smaller, more intimate family occasion in some quaint little place, but you and Amy will surely be having a big wedding!’

  ‘Mum, Amy and I haven’t even begun to think of numbers yet,’ explained Dan patiently. ‘Naturally we want all the people we care about to be there, and our friends.’

  ‘And a few family friends of your father’s and mine – and of course Paddy and Helen’s,’ Carmel added.

  ‘For heaven’s sake, woman, it’s Dan and Amy’s wedding. Let them decide where and when they want to hold it,’ admonished Eddie as he poured another glass of wine. ‘If the young people want to get married in Provence or Tuscany or Donegal or Kerry, let them. After all, it’s their day!’

  ‘We haven’t decided anything yet,’ sighed Amy. ‘Honestly, we haven’t a clue what we want, but probably there would be a fairly big crowd there between the two families and all our friends.’

  ‘When your dad and I got married we had a slap-up meal in the Gresham Hotel after the marriage ceremony in White Friar Street Church,’ Helen interjected, trying to take the pressure off Amy. ‘I had a lovely long white lace dress, and daisies made from lace in my hair, too. Your dad had a velvet suit.’

  ‘It was the fashion,’ laughed Paddy. ‘Then we all danced to Joe Dolan and his band in the ballroom afterwards, and Sheila was in her element up near the stage dancing with your dad. Lord, be good to him.’

  ‘Carmel and I got married in London, in Brompton Oratory,’ added Eddie. ‘I was working in Great Ormond Street at the time, and she was a ward sister in Kings College Hospital. Both our families came over, and obviously a few of our medical colleagues attended. It was a small affair as I was due back on duty on the Tuesday, so we had only four days in Paris for our honeymoon. Young Robbie was born almost nine months to the day afterwards. We should have done a David Beckham and named him Paris.’

  ‘Dad!’ groaned Rob, who was sitting down near Ciara and was well used to the story of his procreation.

  ‘Well, hopefully Amy and Daniel are planning something a bit more lavish than we had,’ said Carmel pointedly. ‘People expect more nowadays.’

  ‘Helen and I want Amy and Daniel to have whatever kind of wedding they want,’ interrupted Paddy. ‘It isn’t every day your elder daughter gets married, so we want the best for her.’

  ‘Oh, Daddy,’ said Amy tearfully, giving him a big hug.

  ‘Maybe we should start looking at hotels, love,’ ventured her mum.

  ‘Places like the Four Seasons and the Shelbourne and the K Club get booked out very quickly,’ warned Carmel. ‘My best friend Valerie’s daughter Sophie had a sumptuous wedding in Mount Juliet, but if you want some place like that you’d need to be on the ball booking now. Most of the good venues are probably already booked out for next year already.’

  Amy saw the look that passed between her parents, who were already beginning to feel out of their depth.

  ‘The county is overrun with hotels and castles,’ reminded Eddie. ‘I’m sure that Daniel and Amy will find just the place they want, Carmel, without our interference.’

  * * *

  Amy was relieved, as she passed the vegetables around, that things had calmed down. Ronan seemed to be getting on fine with Dan’s two brothers, and they were all arguing hotly the merits and demerits of vegetarianism with Ciara as they tucked into the pork and she had an aubergine roast with apricot stuffing.

  ‘Meat-eaters are destroying the planet,’ insisted Ciara, about to launch into her usual diatribe about how cows were contributing to the greenhouse gas effect – until Helen shot a warning across her bows.

  ‘Ciara,’ she said sternly, fixing her gaze on her younger daughter.

  ‘I hope there won’t be beef at this wedding of yours, Amy,’ Ciara said. ‘There’d better not be.’

  Amy cast her eyes to heaven. Her wedding plans had hardly started, and already the rows were beginning.

  Four bottles of wine and a mouth-watering sticky toffee pudding later, things at the table had definitely mellowed. There were compliments to the cook, and the consensus was that Dan and Amy were going to have a big family wedding firmly on Irish soil, with the venue to be confirmed. Father Tom Doorly, a family friend and the local priest, would be asked to perform the ceremony. Jess and Ciara were to be her bridesmaids, Dan’s best friend Liam would be the best man, and Rob would be a groom’s man.

  ‘Can’t I be a groom’s man too?’ asked Rob’s younger brother, Dylan.

  Amy cast Dan a warning look. If he agreed to that, she’d have to have a third bridesmaid. And there would be utter war among her remaining girlfriends if she had to single one of them out to become part of the wedding party.

  ‘Thanks for the offer, Dylan, but two’s enough,’ said Daniel diplomatically. ‘But I’m sure that there will be plenty that you can help out with when the time comes.’

  Dylan grinned, tucking into a second helping of pudding.

  Looking around the table Amy realized that now they were all going to be related, and part of each other’s lives whether they wanted to be or not. Carmel was very different from her own mother, and it was just a question of accepting her the way she was, and biting her tongue when she disagreed with her future mother-in-law. Eddie was a pet, and she could see that her dad was getting on like a house on fire with him, despite the fact that they had so little in common. Her eyes met Dan’s. It was going to be all right . . . everything was going to be all right.

  Chapter Eight

  ‘Do we have to go looking again today?’ Dan protested as they grabbed a hurried breakfast. Saturday’s sacrosanct sausages and bacon and fried eggs and bread had given way to a bowl of scummy end-of-the-packet muesli, two slices of toast, dodgy-looking orange juice, and two cups of
strong coffee.

  ‘Amy, why can’t we take a Saturday off and just stay in bed or chill? Every weekend it’s the same: driving all over the bloody country looking for somewhere to have our wedding. Why can’t we just pick a nice hotel with good food and a bar and say that’s it!’

  ‘Because we’re not having it some place like that,’ Amy retorted vehemently. ‘Our wedding is special. I’m not having it in some crappy hotel just so you can stay in bed for an extra few hours watching TV. This is our day, and I want it to be somewhere that we will remember for the rest of our lives.’

  ‘We will remember it,’ he promised. ‘This is about us, not some fancy venue.’

  Amy knew that he was right. They were both fed up with looking at places for their wedding, and after almost four weekends of it were still nowhere near picking the one they wanted. And she was spending hours on the internet every night trawling through hotel and bridal websites trying to find somewhere.

  Today’s schedule was packed: they were visiting four possible venues and – if they liked a place – scouting to see what the local churches were like. She would have far preferred relaxing on the sofa on a Saturday morning instead of haring all over Ireland. Finding a place to have their wedding was taking a lot more time than either of them had anticipated.

  ‘I just want it to be special,’ she said stubbornly.

  Sometimes she thought Dan just didn’t get it. In the beginning he had wanted them to consider having their wedding in one of Dublin’s fancy hotels. Having your wedding in the same hotel you went to for parties or where you drank in the bar every Friday night after work was hardly original! No, she wanted something a bit different! Finding it was the problem, and Amy hoped today they’d manage it.

  Last week they had driven all down around Meath and viewed an amazing Georgian manor which seemed lovely. The only problem was that the summer dates were already booked out. There seemed to be thousands of couples getting married, and everyone was frantic trying to grab a venue and fix a date. It was a nightmare!