Here Come the Bridesmaids!

by Ann M. Martin

  Sunny rattled off a list of kids she had invited in school. Then she paused. “I think I asked a few others, but I don’t remember.”

  “What time is the party?” Mary Anne asked.

  “Oh, I haven’t decided yet.”

  “Our plane flight is that day,” I explained.

  Sunny’s face went blank. “It is? Um, okay. We’ll have it early, I guess.”

  I was beginning to have a sinking feeling about this “party.” “Sunny, what kind of plans have you made?”

  “Plans?” Sunny repeated.

  “Yeah. You know, food and drinks, decorations, activities, stuff like that.”

  “Oh.” Sunny turned kind of pale. “Well, um, I guess I haven’t gotten to that.”

  “This is for Sunday, the day after tomorrow?” I asked.

  Sunny nodded weakly. “What should I do?”

  Hoo, boy.

  Thump, thump, thump. We all fell silent at the sound of Dawn’s footsteps.

  I thought quickly. I knew Dawn, Mary Anne, and Claudia had to leave the meeting soon. Each of them had stuff to do for the wedding.

  But I didn’t. I could stay put. And Sunny sure could use my help. No way was she going to be able to pull this off on her own.

  Knock-knock-knock. “Room service!” Dawn called out.

  Sunny opened the door. Dawn entered with a huge tray, loaded with, well, very natural-looking food.

  Everyone ate but me. I was too busy thinking.

  When they were done, Dawn got up to go. “I think I’ll stay and hang out,” I said nonchalantly.

  Dawn gave me an odd look. “Okay, if you want.”

  “Watch out,” Claudia remarked. “In half an hour, you’ll have rules and officers.”

  “Maybe even a uniform,” Dawn added.

  I threw an empty trail mix bag at them.

  They both ran out with Mary Anne, shouting, “ ’Bye!”

  I waited a moment, then took a deep breath and grabbed a pen and pad from Sunny’s desk. “Okay. What’s the name of the nearest grocery store?”

  “Wally’s,” Sunny replied.

  At the top of the list I wrote BUY AT WALLY’S, then asked, “And what should we have to eat?”

  “Mini rice cakes, ranch-flavor!” Jill suggested.

  “String cheese with caraway seeds!” Maggie chimed in.

  “Tofu dogs in blankets,” was Sunny’s contribution. “And veggie chips.”

  Tofu dogs in blankets? Veggie chips?

  I was surprised no one suggested a bowl full of seaweed.

  Anyway, I asked Sunny to dictate names of guests she’d invited and guests she wanted to invite. I split the list between Maggie, Jill, and Sunny, and asked them to call the guests and give them specific information.

  Then, assuming everyone would come, I made a list of food, including appropriate amounts. Then a list of simple decorations — a poster, some streamers, and not much else.

  Sunny and Maggie volunteered to do the shopping, so I had them arrange a time to do it together. Next I made everyone decide on a time for the party (ten-thirty A.M.), and Sunny promised to clear it with her parents.

  We got so much done in such a short time that the We Kids Club was practically breathless.

  “Kristy, this is fantastic!” Sunny said.

  “What a great party!” Maggie added.

  Jill was already tapping out a number on the phone.

  Me? I was feeling pretty good.

  Just call me Kristy the Miracle Worker.

  Lyle, the florist, was thinking. He gazed at the cases of refrigerated flowers before him. The shop smelled so good I thought I would die of delight. Finally he smiled and turned to me. “Nasturtiums,” he said.

  “Gesundheit,” I replied.

  He looked blank for a minute.

  I blushed. “Sorry. I was joking. That word you said — it sort of sounds like a sneeze …”

  “Oh.” Lyle grinned. “Well, it’s the name of a flower. A little expensive, perhaps, but for a wedding these days? De rigueur.”

  “Okay, then I’ll take some of them, instead.”

  Now he looked confused. “Which?”

  “De rigueurs.”

  “Uh, that’s a French word for ‘customary.’”

  “I meant nasturtiums,” I quickly added.

  “Mm-hm. All right.” He began scribbling on a pad. “And for the best man’s lapel, may I suggest stephanotis?”

  “Sure.” I looked around. “Where is he?”

  Lyle glared at me over his glasses. His eyebrows were raised way up. That was when I realized Stephan Otis was —

  “Another flower, Ms. Kishi,” Lyle muttered.

  Ugh. I was really blowing it.

  You may be wondering what I was doing in a flower shop. Good question. I was working.

  Yes, I, Claudia Kishi, was employed in Palo City. I had gone straight to the florist after the We Kids Club meeting. My boss had ordered flowers in advance, and I was to make sure they looked nice and arrived on time. For my job, I wasn’t getting a paycheck.

  I was working off my plane ticket.

  Confused? Okay, I’ll start from the beginning.

  Back in Stoneybrook, when Dawn called and asked me to come out West for the wedding, I, of course, said yes.

  Unfortunately, I said that before talking to my mom and dad. Dad nodded solemnly and asked how much it cost to fly there. I had no idea. So I got a newspaper and we all looked for airline ads.

  Do you know the signs of severe shock? Popping eyes, a sudden gasp, and dead silence. I discovered this when Dad found a list of plane fares in the Stoneybrook News.

  Hasta la vista, L.A. Or so I thought.

  I didn’t give up easily. I pleaded. I cajoled (I’m not sure what that means, but I must have done it). But Dad was firm. Too many expenses — my sister’s college courses (she’s in high school but she’s a certified genius), my art lessons and supplies, et cetera, et cetera.

  Oooh, was I mad.

  I stormed up to my room, called Dawn, and broke the bad news. She was sad. She said that she understood, and that they’d all miss me.

  When I hung up, I crawled under my blankets and vowed never to get up. Never. Not if the earth opened up. Not if an atom bomb dropped on my front yard or a typhoon blew off my roof.

  Rrrrriinggg!

  The phone! I hopped out of bed and grabbed it.

  “ ’lo,” I grumbled.

  “Claudia, it’s Dawn. Guess what? Dad says he needs your artistic talents.”

  I exhaled loudly. “Dawn, you don’t know my parents. When they say no, they mean —”

  “No, no, you don’t understand!” Dawn interrupted. “He wants to hire you.”

  “Huh?”

  “To be, like, a wedding consultant. You’d be in charge of picking the flowers, decorating the house, maybe even styling hair.”

  “What? I’ve never done —”

  “Claud, you would be great at that, and you know it!”

  “I guess, but —”

  “Look, we’re all helping out, Claudia. That’s the kind of wedding Dad and Carol want — with friends and family involved, instead of hiring a lot of strangers.”

  “I don’t know…. I mean, what would I charge?”

  “Dad figured that out. He’s willing to pay exactly half the cost of a round-trip plane ticket. Plus you can stay at my house. You and Kristy can sleep in the living room.”

  What a deal! I was stunned. I mean, just to be asked was a real honor. At least I thought so.

  I said good-bye, ran downstairs, and asked my parents. Dad wasn’t so hot on the idea. He thought the whole thing would make him look bad, like he couldn’t afford the ticket. But I insisted Mr. Schafer was going to be getting a good bargain (which, I thought, was true).

  We settled on a compromise. Dad and Mom would charge the ticket on their credit card. I would earn the money, but only after I did the work. Then I would use that money to pay my parents back.

 
And that is how I became Claudia Kishi, Wedding Consultant!

  Ta-da!

  Back to Lyle.

  “So let’s see,” he said, shoving his glasses up the length of his nose, “I’ll have the bouquet for the bride, a smaller bouquet for the bridesmaid, a boutonniere for the best man, four centerpieces, garlands for the house and tent. Anything else?”

  “Oh!” I had almost forgotten what Mr. Schafer had asked me when he’d dropped me off. “Could you bring a Christmas tree?”

  Lyle scratched his head. “Well, we are affiliated with a local nursery. I suppose we could.”

  “Great. Thanks!”

  Lyle added up the bill. He showed it to me and I nodded. (Did I see the amount? Noooo.)

  As he walked me to the door, he had this big smile. I think he was happy to get rid of me.

  I took one last, deep sniff and said good-bye.

  Next stop, the Current Affair. That’s a catering company that has a small gourmet shop in the Vista Hills mall. Mr. Schafer and Carol had called them to arrange a buffet-style dinner at their house after the wedding. My job was to give them some of Carol’s last-minute requests.

  “Hi,” I said to a harried-looking man in the shop. “I’m here about the Schafer-Olson wedding.”

  “Hello! I’m Stuart.” He was all smiles now. “What can I do for you?”

  I read from the list Carol had given me:

  “Stuffed grape leaves, unsweetened yams for a man who’s a diabetic, roast duck instead of turkey, and carrot cake instead of a white cake.”

  When I looked up, Smiling Stuart had turned into The Monster from the Mall. He was glaring at me. “Uh, tell me who you are again?”

  “Claudia Kishi? Dawn — the groom’s daughter — is my friend. I’m visiting from Connecticut.”

  “A friend,” he repeated. “And you’re in the wedding?”

  “In it? No.”

  I could swear I saw steam coming out of his ears. He turned to a desk and flipped through a Rolodex. “Let me call Mr. Schafer.”

  He did. And boy, he was much more polite to him than he was to me. But even so, I could see his face grow grimmer.

  After he hung up, he took my list and said, “All right, Ms. Keithly, I’ll do what I can.”

  “Kishi,” I reminded him as I left.

  (No, he did not say, “Gesundheit.”)

  I had one more stop: Carswell-Hayes, to buy sunglasses (for Kristy, Mary Anne, and me), and suntan lotion (for everyone). Yes, we’d forgotten to pack that stuff. Who thinks about all that in the middle of a Connecticut winter? Anyway, the wedding was going to be held on a beach, so we all needed protection.

  A wedding on the beach! I could hardly think of anything more romantic. The sun beating down. The waves crashing in the background, the wind blowing our hair.

  Hmmmm …

  As I walked across the mall, I pulled a pen out of my shoulder bag. I scribbled EXTRA HAIRSPRAY on my list of wedding things to buy.

  “One more minute!” Dawn called from her bedroom.

  “Okay!” I replied.

  I closed my journal and waited.

  Did I sound too unexcited about the beach wedding? I hope not. I tried to be positive.

  But I have to admit, the idea sounded a little strange to me. I know, I know, it shouldn’t. Beaches are fun. Romantic.

  They’re also sandy and windy. And if I’m not totally covered from head to toe, and wearing a floppy hat, I end up looking like a carrot with hair.

  Besides, I guess I was expecting a normal wedding. At a church. With organ music and a white dress with a veil and a groom waiting by the altar, beaming at his true love’s approach as everyone sniffles happily.

  I adore church weddings. At my dad’s, I cried and cried. I will never forget it. I was kind of looking forward to one just like it.

  Where do you sit at a beach wedding? Are you supposed to stand the whole time? What if sand gets in your shoes? Or do you go barefoot under your nicest outfit, holding your shoes in one hand?

  More questions: How can you see the bride if you’re squinting in the sun and the wind is blowing your hair around? What do you do if surfers and tourists start gawking? And what about the music? Does someone bring an accordion? A harmonica?

  I wouldn’t dare say any of this to Dawn. She seemed thrilled about the idea. And after all, it’s her dad. I was determined to be a good guest.

  “Da dum de dum … da dum de dum….” Dawn da-dummed the wedding song as she descended.

  “Wowww …”

  Dawn looked gorgeous. She was wearing a satiny, bare-shoulder dress I’d never seen before.

  “Like it?” she said at the bottom of the stairs, turning around.

  “Stunning! Is that what you’re wearing at the wedding?”

  Dawn looked at me a little oddly. “Yeah, but —”

  “Can I show you the dress I brought?” I asked, getting up from the kitchen table.

  But as I tried to go upstairs, Dawn said, “Mary Anne, this is the bridesmaids’ dress.”

  “Yes, I know —”

  “I — I bought one for you, too.”

  I was at the top step. I turned around. “For me?”

  “Bridesmaids always wear matching dresses, Mary Anne.” Dawn lowered her head sheepishly. “You don’t like it, do you? Oh, I knew I should have asked you about it beforehand.”

  “Bridesmaid?” I managed to squeak. “I’m a bridesmaid?”

  “Well, yeah. Didn’t we talk about it?”

  “Dawn, you told me you were a bridesmaid. You didn’t tell me I had to be one.”

  “Oops.” Dawn’s face turned red as I walked back downstairs. “Sorry. I guess I just assumed you knew. Are you mad at me?”

  “Well, no, not mad …” Panicked was more like it. I plopped into a kitchen chair. “What will I have to do?”

  “Hardly anything,” Dawn replied. “You walk in before the bride and groom, smile, and look radiant and luminous.”

  “In front of all those people?”

  “Only about forty.”

  “Forty? And we have to stand there, facing them throughout the whole ceremony?”

  Dawn laughed. “Mary Anne, it’s not like you have to recite a poem or twirl a baton. Don’t worry.” She looked upstairs, all excited. “Hey, you want to try on your dress?”

  “I guess.”

  I tried to smile. I followed Dawn to her room. She took the dress out of the closet. I tried it on.

  All the time I was trying not to cry. Or scream.

  I am a very quiet person. I hate confrontation. But you know what I hate worse? Being the center of attention. Knowing that people are staring at me.

  “It fits!” Dawn exclaimed as she zipped me up the back. “You look sensational!”

  It was a nice dress. Nice, bright, and slinky. Perfect for Dawn.

  But not for me. I hated the way my shoulders looked. Like big, white, slabs of beef. How was I going to cover them against the sun? An umbrella? Shoulder pads? A beach blanket?

  “Well? What do you think?” Dawn asked.

  “Um, nice.” I couldn’t wait to take it off. I began pulling the shoulders down.

  “What’s wrong, Mary Anne?” Dawn asked.

  “Nothing,” I lied.

  “Hey, I’m your sister. Remember? Talk to me.”

  I stepped out of the dress and quickly put my clothes back on. “It’s just that … well, I had a whole different idea about this wedding.”

  Dawn looked exasperated. “Mary Anne, I don’t understand you. You love weddings.”

  “But no one told me I’d have to be in one.”

  “It’s an honor, Mary Anne!” Dawn’s voice was getting louder. “Any other girl would be thrilled!”

  “Well, I’m shy in front of people. You know that.”

  Dawn threw up her arms. “Everyone’ll be looking at the bride and groom! No one’s going to care about you. They won’t even know you’re there.”

  “Oh, thanks a lot.”


  “I didn’t mean it the way it sounded.”

  “Everyone will be looking at me, Dawn. Because I’ll be the only one wearing a big hat and a towel over my sunburned shoulders.”

  “Is that what you’re worried about?”

  “Well, that’s another thing no one told me. I didn’t know about this beach stuff. I thought the wedding was going to be, you know, normal.”

  Dawn’s eyes grew buggy. “Oh, so we’re abnormal now. The truth comes out. You’re embarrassed!”

  We fell silent. Dawn stared out the window. I fiddled with the laces on my sneakers. I was not going to start crying.

  When I looked at Dawn, I could see tears in her eyes. Suddenly the argument seemed pretty dumb.

  “I didn’t mean that, Dawn,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

  Dawn nodded. “Yeah. It’s okay. I’m the one who really blew it.”

  “No, I was too sensitive.”

  “I was too stupid.”

  We both stopped. I felt a tear trickling down my cheek. Dawn started crying and laughing at the same time. I opened my arms.

  We were about to hug when Dawn said, “Aaaugh! Get away! No tear stains on the new dress!”

  We burst out giggling. I heard a door opening down the hall, then footsteps. “Will you two knock it off?” Jeff’s voice roared.

  “Sorry!” I replied.

  Smiling, I picked up my dress and hung it back up. Dawn changed into her casual clothes.

  I felt like a fool. Dawn was right, it was an honor to be a bridesmaid. Besides, everyone makes mistakes. Dawn had been busy, and she forgot to tell me I was going to be in the wedding. That’s all. I shouldn’t have been so hard on her.

  I was going to get over my shyness. And be the best bridesmaid I could be.

  Beach or no beach.

  Dawn and I were friends again. (Yea!) When the front doorbell rang, we raced each other downstairs, giggling all the way.

  Both of us grabbed the doorknob and yanked it open.

  “When’s dinner? I’m starving!”

  Can you tell who it was? If you guessed Kristy, you were right.

  “Didn’t you eat at Sunny’s?” Dawn asked.

  “I tried a piece of that bread, but it was like eating wood. I can’t wait for some real food.”

  Dawn put her hands on her hips. But before she could answer, Carol’s car pulled up in front of the house.