Elin Hilderbrand - Beautiful Day

The church broke into a rash of coughs and whispers-however, on the altar, the action continued. Jenna’s brother did the next reading. It was the Beatles, and who didn’t love the Beatles-but Ann drifted away again.

She thought, Pauline. What was the problem? Was it anything worse than what Ann herself had endured? Was Doug Carmichael having an affair? Ann recalled Pauline’s words from the day before, Do you ever feel like maybe your marriage isn’t exactly what you thought it was? Ann hated Helen, Helen was here at the wedding, ostensibly to see Chance, but really Helen had come to torment Ann with her undeniably magnetic presence. Or she had come to sink her teeth into her old Roanoke friend Skip Lafferty. Or she had come to call Ann’s bluff, and she was winning, damnit. Her presence was like a hot pink poker up Ann’s ass.

The vows now. Ann tried to focus. Through good and bad, in sickness and in health, till death do us part.

Ha! Ann thought. She had said those exact vows, and while she was now sitting next to the man she had said the vows to, and while she did love him very much-more, possibly, than she had loved him then-she had not known what the vows meant, or the many creative and awful ways they could be broken.

Stuart and Jenna exchanged rings-platinum band for Stuart, and platinum with diamonds for Jenna, but they could have been aluminum or plastic. Expensive rings did not guarantee a happy life together.

Ann decided she would ignore Helen in the receiving line. Helen would approach, and Ann would look right through her; she would stand like a statue, gazing over Helen’s scandalously bare shoulder. She would not speak or take Helen’s hand. The moment would be awkward for a second, until Helen understood that although Ann had invited Helen to the wedding, Ann despised the ground that Helen walked on.

It would be a small passive-aggressive triumph. It would be a mean-girl silent treatment victory derived straight from the sixth-grade lunchroom. Ann couldn’t wait. She promised herself she would not break down, she would not buckle, she would not speak to Helen or touch Helen or offer any other indication that Helen was alive.

The minister said, “We will now observe a moment of silence to remember the bride’s mother, Elizabeth Bailey Carmichael.”

The church hushed. Ann bowed her head and sent a message out to Beth Carmichael, wherever she might be. You raised a wonderful family, and a beautiful daughter. They clearly loved you very much. Good job, Beth.

The minister raised his hands and said, “Thank you.” He beamed at Stuart and Jenna. “By the power vested in me by the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Stuart held the side of Jenna’s head, and Stuart and Jenna kissed. The kiss, Ann thought, was very tender. People clapped, the pipe organ celebrated, and Stuart and Jenna faced the minister for the final blessing.

“Almost out of here,” Jim whispered.

Ann felt a sense of elation, and she congratulated herself on an appropriate emotion. Her son was married, and she felt happy.

Jenna and Stuart-now Mr. and Mrs. Stuart Graham, another Mrs. Graham, that was odd-processed out of the church, followed by Margot and Ryan, Jenna’s brother Nick and the sunburned bridesmaid whose skin looked sticky with aloe, and H.W. and Autumn-who, Ann admitted to herself, didn’t look half bad together. Chance processed out at the end alone because his partner, Pauline’s daughter, hadn’t returned. Ann and Jim were meant to leave next. Ann stepped out into the aisle, and as she turned to face the back of the church, she saw Helen-with that bloodcurdling scream of a dress-step into the aisle, take Chance’s arm, and process out of the church before Ann and Jim. Ann gripped Jim’s arm, blinking furiously. How dare Helen presume to process out of the church with the wedding party! How dare Helen presume to process out of the church in front of Ann! Ann wanted to yank Helen’s blond hair. She wanted to stop dead in the middle of the church and scream. Chance seemed unbothered by his mother’s presence; maybe he was relieved not to have to walk out of the church alone. The quandary of being unexpectedly unpartnered had been solved by his mother. But Ann didn’t care how Chance felt about it. Helen had crossed a line. She had inserted herself into the wedding party without qualm or hesitation, exactly the way she had inserted herself into Ann’s marriage years ago.

“Can you believe her?” Ann whispered to Jim.

Jim didn’t respond, and when Ann checked on him, his head was held high and dignified, the way it always was when he knew people were looking at him, most often when he was attending some political event with Ann. Ann had always been proud to have Jim beside her, although she’d wondered over the years if the power differential between them was the reason he’d strayed. Jim made far more money than Ann, but Ann had influence and prestige. She was the one people sought out, she was the one who was photographed and named in the newspaper. State Senator Ann Graham. Jim must have wearied of it.

They stepped out of the church into the bright, warm afternoon, and behind them someone rang the church bells. Ann and Jim followed Jenna and Stuart and the wedding party and Helen out to the front lawn, where the receiving line was to be held. Ann narrowed her eyes at Helen. Helen would not stand in the receiving line, would she? For the fifteenth time that weekend, Ann wished for a Quaalude.

Helen kissed Chance on the cheek and appeared to bid him farewell. Ann stepped closer so that she could hear what Helen was saying.

“I’ll see y’all later, darling. I’m meeting Skip in town.”

“All right,” Chance said. “I’ll see you at the reception.”

“No, I don’t think so, darling,” Helen said. “Skip has invited me for dinner at the Club Car.”

“Oh,” Chance said. “Okay.” He didn’t sound like he cared one way or the other. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then, I guess.”

“Now, remember,” Helen said. “Don’t eat the crab cakes!” She laughed, kissed Chance again, and descended the concrete steps to the sidewalk without a further word to anyone. She sauntered off in a flash of shocking, hair-raising pink.

Ann stared after Helen with her mouth agape. Helen was leaving the wedding before the reception. She had RSVP’d yes; Ann knew there was a place card with Helen’s name on it, and a seat for her at a table in the Carmichaels’ backyard. Ann knew that $120 had been spent on behalf of Helen’s expected presence at the reception. She couldn’t just walk off to meet Skip Lafferty! She couldn’t just leave like that! When Jim found out that Helen had chosen not to attend the reception, he would be relieved. He would say, No one wanted her around, anyway. He would expect Ann to share his feelings. Now they could eat and drink and laugh and talk and dance without worrying about Helen. It would be just as Jim had wanted it; it would be as if Ann had never invited Helen to the wedding in the first place, or as if Ann had invited Helen and Helen had declined. But Ann found herself feeling vexed. Ann had wanted Helen to see her and Jim laughing and talking and dancing; Ann had wanted Helen to feel bereft and jealous.

But instead Helen had walked off.

Wait! Ann wanted to call out. You can’t leave! I haven’t had a chance to ignore you yet!

Bridesmaid Dresses

Oh, the bridesmaid dresses! When I was in my twenties, I had a whole closetful of atrocious taffeta dresses-mustard yellow, Pepto-Bismol pink, and one with navy and red diagonal stripes where we all had to stand a certain way or the stripes didn’t align, which made for visual confusion and caused dizziness and nausea in those who gazed upon us. There was one flowing dress in an unfortunate apricot hue that I wore when I was pregnant with Kevin that could have served as a pup tent for a family of four.

I am thinking silk shantung, sheath, nipped at the waist, maybe off-the-shoulder-simple, classic-either long with a slit to the knee or cut just above the knee. I am thinking the green of new leaves-a fresh, just-cut-grass green, a green that will echo with the delicate embroidered ivy on Grammie’s antique linens, a green that will make people think of life in full bloom.

His age was showing. It was only six o’clock, and already he was tired enough to go to sleep.

He had a decision to make. He could either go in search of Pauline, or he could fulfill his duties as the father of the bride and stand in his place in the receiving line and smile and shake hands with 150 guests. He really wasn’t sure which was the right course of action. Rhonda was standing on the lawn outside the church when they all emerged, and so wherever Pauline had run off to, she had gone alone.

What would Beth want him to do? She might insist he put Jenna first at any cost. But she might remind him that Pauline was still his wife, for better or for worse, and obviously something was wrong, something that Doug had set in motion, and now was the time to deal with it.

He couldn’t believe she had run from the church. If it had been Beth who had run from the church, Doug would have followed right after her.

Beth would never have run from the church.

Doug decided to ask for help. He approached Roger.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” Doug said. Roger was standing off to the side, holding his clipboard and his pencil. He was wearing a white shirt, striped tie, and navy blazer and looked just like every other male guest at the wedding. But Roger was a quiet warrior; he exuded competence and gravitas, and Doug was confident that not only could the man deal with errant tree branches, but he could deal with disintegrating relationships, as well.