Moving On:
Chapter Nines
Coffee spilled on the floor. As I’m
mopping up the mess,
Michael pops in carrying another box to the guest room. Before he
leaves we grab
a quick cup of coffee.
I tell Michael, “There’s still a
couple of things left to
finish before the wedding. Angie’s on her way over.”
“By the way, the contractor called,
they’re beginning renovations
on the house Tuesday.”
“That’s exciting. I’m glad we’re
remodeling your home. It’s
going to be comfortable for us and Ma Barker.”
I remember you telling me once,
Pam, that Angie loves this
house. Do you think she’d like to live here? I know they sold their
home and
haven’t found another yet? There’s
plenty of room for the whole family, it’s a great school district and
there’s plenty
of yard space for the kids.”
“Yes, we can give her an especially
sweet deal on buying
this.”
“That
would be a
happy surprise for all of them. We better get going.”
Looking at the clock I panic.
We drive separately to the Club
since we have different things
to tend to there. I’ll have to leave soon to come home and dress.
Michael gets ready faster than I
do. Shower, shine, be on
time. It’s a man thing.
No worrying about hair out of
place, or using the right
color lipstick, one that lasts more than a second. Fighting hosiery and
zippers
that want to get stuck in the slip. Choosing the perfect perfume,
putting shoes
on that will shortly make me waddle like a duck in pain. Ah, what a
pity it’s
not equal.
Arriving at the Club, before I set
anything down, there’s a
sudden explosive BOOM, CRASH, tinkle-tinkle, followed by “NO, NO, OH
NO!” I jolt
out of my skin, turn around to find a pale young woman standing with
her hands
to her cheeks, obviously unable to grasp what happened, staring at
shards of
glass strewn across the floor.
I walk over, careful to miss the
broken glass. “Are you
alright?” Her eyes are enormous from shock, her name tag reads ‘Jane’.
I think
AHA, so this is the real Calamity Jane.
Tears are building in her eyes as
she turns to me. “There
went my job.”
“Hey, It’s just a punch bowl and
glasses. All are
replaceable. They must have insurance.”
“You don’t understand. When I was
driving here I swerved to
avoid a bicyclist that came out of nowhere and I hit a post. The whole
van is
scratched from front to back. I’m a wreck.”
“You’ve really had a bad day. I’ll
get someone to help.” I’ll
bet if someone saw her swerving it would scare them out of their skin.
I know I’d
need smelling salt and ‘Depends’.
I run into an employee, tell him
what happened and he agrees
to take care of it.
The last of the flowers are
delivered so late it almost gives
me hives. The catering crew decorate the tables with white carnations,
lilies
and baby’s breath as center pieces. I
envisioned them being out of time and having to throw them at random on
the
tables. I’m relieved it looks so pretty.
I’ve got to get home and dress. I
check the list and see
everything’s done. Michael is in the next room setting up extra chairs,
checking
that the decorating is complete, and the white wedding arch in front of
the
fireplace has flowers decorating it gracefully. Our list of guests has
increased,
from 75 to nearly 120. Friends, family, friends of friends, their
‘perfectly’
mannered kids, Super Store clerks, their neighbors, the mail man and
car
salesmen for all I know. So much for being conservative with our
invitations.
Through the south and west facing
windows I look out to
admire the view. Covered boat docks line up from South to Southwest,
white caps
gracefully dancing out beyond them. Shadows of clouds converge and
reflect off
the water, increasing in intensity against the darkening water,
indicating an
impending storm. To the North West the trees on shore start to dance
wildly. The
seagulls suddenly are going crazy, making their cawing racquet while
flying in
erratic circular formation, fighting the wind.
Normally a fishing boat coming into
dock would have the
gulls excited and noisy. But this behavior isn’t from any fishing boat.
Menacing
shadows of darkness converge into one huge black cloud, covering the
entire sky.
“NO, NOT TODAY”.
I run towards Michael, waving my
arms like a crazy woman pointing
towards the windows yelling, “Look! Look!” A
crack of thunder shakes the building. Waves
are dangerous in size. Sail boats openly moored beyond the covered
docks rock
madly as the unforgiving rain bursts forth. It’s like a wall of water
being
dumped. It pounds onto the ground. Lightening brightens the dark room
and the
electricity dies. Oh my God.
We look seriously at each other for
a second, then burst out
laughing. “We’ll get through this. If we had ordered the big outside
tent it could
have been blown to Edmonds.
“My hair will be ruined if I make a
run for the car now.
I’ve spent three hours getting all pretty at the beauty shop this
morning. And
Michael,” I look into his eyes with what I hope is a hot sexy look,
“that
weather man was dead wrong!”
Michael gently tilts my head up.
“We’ll weather the storm. A
ceremony by candlelight would add quite a romantic… element.” With that
he kisses
me. Another brilliant flash of lightening followed by the crack of
thunder
within three seconds, makes me aware that this one is too close for
comfort. The
hair is standing straight up on my arms. Electricity’s in the wrong
place,
shocking!
“We might be saying ‘I do’ in the
dark. Why, it could be so
dark we might marry strangers,” I kid. “I’m
not sure if they have a generator here. It’s not that big a place.
The worker who had cleaned up the
broken glass comes over to
me. “Did I hear you say you need to go to your car? Thought you could
use this
to keep dry,” apologizing for not having an umbrella as he hands me a
big
plastic garbage bag, not a Dior, but classy enough for this weather. I
thank
him and cover myself, carefully protecting my hair. With a quick
goodbye to
Michael, I run to the parking area, now awash with running water. My
shoes
splash with every step. I’m soaked from my knees down by the time I get
to my
car. I wish I had worn fishermen’s hip boots. Too late.
As I start the car, the rain begins
to ease off. There’s
still no electricity within view.
The car planes right through the
intersection; the signal
isn’t working. Thankfully nobody is close to me. No horn honks. That is
pure
luck. I drive home as slow as a little old lady high on marijuana,
taking no
chances.
Angie’s at the house, setting my
clothes out. There’s very
little time left before the ceremony. My son-in-law and all three
grandchildren
are in the living room, dressed and ready to go. They’re playing a
jumping game
on TV while waiting to leave. That will wear them out. Smart. “Hi,
Chris.”
“Hi, Mom. Angie’s in the bedroom.”
Now the kids yell, “Hi
grandma,”
“Hi, kids.” I turn back to Chris,
“They’ll be tired in no
time. Have you all eaten? There’s pizza in the fridge.”
“No, that sounds perfect.” He herds
the little trio onto the
kitchen bar stools where they chant “Pizza, pizza, pizza”.
“Hi, Angie. How is our time frame looking?”
“Pretty good. Just pray the rain
finally quits before we
leave.”
“It was really something down at
the Club.”
“You look good. So you didn’t get
caught in the stormmmmm…...”
She looks down at my soaked pantlegs and soggy shoes and laughs.
“Doesn’t the
rain come down from above, not up?” She stares again at my dripping
slacks and
squishy shoes. “How did you do that?”
“I plowed into pitiful puddles
while playing porpoise.
Naturally.” I give her a dead earnest look.
“I can’t see you purposely playing
in puddles today. You
didn’t duck the deluge? You’re a kick,
Mom.”
“Well, being such a Vogue
fashionista, the ‘stylish’ garbage
bag became shabby chic for my unique no leak geek streak. Ha ha. I’m a
true bag
lady.”
With a laugh, Angie says, “OK, Mom,
on that note, I’m going
into the other room to check on the kids and grab a bite.”
Shedding my clothes, I pull on my
white panty hose and look
in horror as I see a long run. I discard them and grab my only other
pair,
gently edging into them----and snag a leg. Drat. I snatch back the
first pair, cut
the legs with runs off, Now I feel like lighting a candle to the
hosiery gods,
while I carefully put on the good legs squiggling by butt into the
irregular
shaped panties. There, I now have two good run-free legs. They feel
funny.
Success, I give myself two legs up!
Now I will go into my
second wedding wearing double panty hose!