Mind of a Bridesmaid

CHAPTER 1

OK, the music is starting and it’s time to do this again. I’ve done this walk a few times before. It seems that I am quite the pro these days. Oh yeah, I know how to put on a dress and I know how to walk in a straight line. Not only can I do that very well, but I think I look pretty good doing it too!

So, it’s about my time to take the walk. At the age of twenty-eight, at least I get to walk down an aisle. Sure, there is no one crying at my vision of loveliness at the other end. When I think about it, maybe that is a good thing for this moment in my life. I am my own person. Yeah, that’s right, I am going solo. I am alone. I am independent. Oh, that’s better. I am an independent solo female with my own name. So, this walk will be just fine for at least now until someone really really lucky gets the pleasure of meeting me for a vow date. Well, there’s my signal. One of the girls wearing the same dress as me as just crossed the fifty yard line of the Church aisle, which means I get to slowly begin my march. The music is a familiar classical tune which should keep me at just the right pace. I’ve had good practice with the song, seeing that this is the twelfth wedding I have been in with that same music.

Here I am walking gracefully. Even though I am not in white, I know people are watching my every move. They should. I paid two hundred fifty dollars for this dress. That’s only for the dress and not even including all of the accessories involved. There are shoes, nylons, new bra to fit me just right, jewelry and make-up. I know I am probably forgetting something. There are just too many things involved in how I must look for today. It really is very eye pleasing as a whole though. The dress is floor length and made of some kind of light brown chiffon. I believe the color is called caramel mocha cafe. Basically, it is the color of a really milked coffee. It’s not too puffy either, and I am so very grateful for that. Why would I want to look huge? The flow is very nice too. It moves just enough to feel like a nightgown. The neckline is cut straight across up high and it is sleeveless. The back is pretty cool. It is always good to look appealing as walking away. I don’t want anyone to forget me, you know. There are five tiny dress roses at the top of my zipper, which is about halfway down my back. That seems pretty standard for this type of outfit. Draping from the roses is what appears to be two thin scarves that almost reach the ground. They flow not too badly behind me. To complete my backside is a small train just to add a rounded touch to the end of it. I don’t think I mentioned the hidden zipper, did I? It looks like buttons—lots of tiny buttons, but there really is a zipper underneath. That is simply pure genius.

The rest of this uniform for a day includes my elbow length white gloves. Now I guess I really must act like a lady. Aren’t I just classy today? Yes, these elegant gloves are meant for holding something pretty, right? Of course, I must also have flowers. This would be a bouquet of white and pink roses. I suppose I must smell quite nice as I breeze past everyone with flowers in hand. Finally, the real completion of this ensemble is the hair and make-up. That took up about an hour and a half of my day. My reddish-brown hair is picked up on top of my head in a mess of curls hanging everywhere. The makeup was applied in several layers on the eyes. I had to use foundation, liquid eye shadow, powder, and two different neutral colors of loose eye shadow. The purpose of all that work is to achieve no eyelid creasing lines. These are the complexities of being a girl. It’s so much fun. Yes, that would be me being sarcastic there. It takes much too long for us girls to get ready. It’s not necessarily that we want to take up so much time. I certainly have better things to do. We simply have standards to live up to, especially when there are pictures being taken of us constantly throughout an entire day. Boys are so lucky. They rent an outfit and there is not much else to it for them. I hate those boys for that.

That is about it for the uniform for one day. It’s an outfit I like, but I must face the truth. As much as I can say I will cut it down and wear it again, I know it will never happen. It hasn’t happened yet. Seeing that this one day appearance has cost me hundreds of dollars, oh yeah—you bet I am going to talk about it.

Here I am halfway down the aisle. There are four boys waiting at the end of the walkway wearing black monkey suits with cafe colored dressy shiny ties. Wow, they definitely do clean up pretty good, considering they don’t put much effort or time into it. They don’t look anything like they did yesterday at the rehearsal dinner. It is truly amazing what a tux can do for boys. It’s too bad most of them don’t always put so much effort into their appearance. I guess it doesn’t really matter though, because it’s not like any of them are available. After all, one of them is getting married in a few minutes. The other three are engaged. If I can’t have any of them, maybe I can at least make someone’s fiancée jealous. Oh yes, that would be fun. I think I have a mission for the evening.

Now I am taking my place where I was told to stand. There is already one girl there. She is one of three Amys in this wedding today. Hey, what can I say—Amy must have been a rather popular name in the early 1970s. Her birth name is Amy Elmwood. To avoid confusion when yelling the name Amy, we simply call her Woody. She was the first to take the walk today because she is the shortest. That looks best for presentation’s sake, so that’s the way it is. Then I am the next to follow before the Matron of Honor. She is yet another Amy. Her last name at the time of her birth was Depew. Thus comes the nickname we refer to her as, which is Pewey. As Pewey makes her way down the aisle, I can’t help but check out those cleaned up boys on the other side of the aisle from me. At the far end is Alden Amherst. Continuing with the boy section of the wedding party is Buff Alony and Wonderboy, or Wes Seneca as everyone else calls him. Finally there’s the groom (who seems to be sweating), Colden Gola. They all appear to be carbon copies of each other. That’s in a good way at least for today. They all have dirty blonde hair and hover around six feet tall. It’s almost like looking at quadruplets!

Holy crap! Did Wonderboy just wink at me? He should not know that I am checking out those boys—especially him! OK, that would be bad. I must not look at him again. If he wants to look my way, that’s fine. I will not flatter him in any way again today.

Wow, I made myself so distracted that I didn’t even see Pewey standing next to me. That means it is just about time for this event, after two years of planning, will finally take place. Oh wait, no, I stand corrected. First, the mini versions of us must make their way here. It is bad enough we have to spend so much money on our outfits. That little tiny dress cost more than mine! Isn’t it just ridiculous? She must be uncomfortable and cannot truly appreciate fashion. With that said, I do have to admit that she is a bit cute. Wow, it’s too bad she decided to just sit down in the middle of the aisle. Strangely enough, the ring bearer seems to be moving on just fine without her. In fact, he’s running towards us. It is always quite the show to put five year olds in formal wear and expect them to remember to do what we tell them to do. Also, a rehearsal in an empty Church when no one is staring at them seems like it is easy enough. Does anyone realize children are unpredictable? Suddenly we dress them up, have a Church full of people stare at them, and have cameras flash in their little faces. Either they enjoy all of this attention and really do try to create memorable scenes or they truly are scared. I’m not sure I understand those mischievous minds. Well, either she got nervous that everyone was watching her or she realized the boy was not coming back for her. She just got up and is running towards the end of the aisle, all while throwing large handfuls of rose petals all to the right of her. She just tackled the ring bearer, who was sitting on the steps leading to the altar. I can’t believe she is so weak!

Ah, there is the change in music. It is time for the attention to shift. There’s one of my friends taking her last single walk. She’s the third of the Amys to make an appearance today. Her name for the next few minutes of her life will be Amy Evan. Once again, to avoid any Amy confusion, we refer to her as Ev. She has decided she wants to keep some of what she has always been known as, so she will hyphenate. Her new driver’s license identity will be Amy Evan-Gola. Wow, all of my girlfriends will now have new last names. Am I missing something here? Maybe I should legally change my name just to fit in. Then again, I would miss out on having a big white dress, lots of presents and attention. I suppose that would be the most exciting part of a wedding event.

Ev is making her way through the stares as she approaches us. That dress really does look great on her. It’s too bad she will never wear it again. I mean, she paid $2,000 for it. Well, she didn’t actually pay for it. She’s an only child, and her parents have focused their attention on her throughout her life. She’s a bit spoiled, and she doesn’t want to work for a living. She wanted to have a big wedding. That was her goal in life. So she found someone who fell for her. He makes enough money, so she will not need to work. That works fine for them, because they are old fashioned in at least that way. He wants her to stay home, and she doesn’t want to actually work for a living. If that’s what they want—fine. I couldn’t live that way, but it seems to work for them.

That dress really does look good. It’s just so plainly white. There are no sparkles, no beads, and no lace. It has a tank top style upper part and a full skirt. That is what $2,000 will buy? At least mine wasn’t that bad. I do have to give her credit for making us look presentable in the outfits we have. I put my full trust in how she wanted us to look. That is risky in bridesmaid fashion. Because she is my friend, I do trust her and I would do anything for her. Sure, she can seem shallow and materialistic at times. The girl does have her finer points as a friend, and isn’t that the reason why we have any kind of relationship with anyone? Even if the finer points of someone’s persona are one percent of who they are, sometimes

that’s what we notice most about their friendship. At least that is what I think. I have been proven right at least a few times in my life.

Ev is about three quarters of the way down the aisle. She is carrying a large bouquet of pink roses. Her veil is shoulder length and it makes her look so delicate and graceful.

And there it is—The real Ev has just shown up. The girl actually just tripped right there in front of the cameras and the video and the people debating whether to be showing their poker face or humor at the situation. She seemed to just about stun her poor father. Luckily, he is quite a large boy. A frail girl such as herself couldn’t possibly bring him down with her. That display could have been so much worse. At least it wasn’t a complete fall. She only ended up on her knees. With her determination to stand up as quickly as possible and her dad still clinging to her, the moment didn’t seem to drag on for too long. It is all back into form and on with the business of the day.

Ev and Mr. Evan finally reached this altar. Me and the girls can’t help but shake our heads at her. Ev can take any moment and make us not forget it, whether she tries to or not. I know I will definitely not forget these past few moments and I will certainly make sure she never forgets. This could be fun for a while. I am so glad the cameras were rolling for that one.

Who gives this girl away? says the priest.

It’s about time this is finally starting.

Crap, Wonderboy just winked at me again. What’s up with that? Maybe he has a twitch or a bug flew in his eye or something. I just know he isn’t giving me any attention.

Anyway, there’s Mr. Evan giving Ev a kiss on the cheek and the wedding can begin now please. I don’t think Mr. Evan quite understands that, because he is still standing up by the altar. Ev just gave him an ‘I don’t want any more mistakes at my wedding, Daddy’ look to her father. He appears to have gotten the hint and is moving on to sit next to his sobbing wife.

There they are, my friend and my soon to be friend-in-law getting married. This will officially make me the last of my circle of girls who is single. Crap, I will be the only single girl left of everyone I know! C’mon now, I must stop these tears. I cannot let this get to me anymore. Now the tear is rolling down my cheek. Great. Hopefully no one will see me crying. I don’t think anyone is looking at me.

I know, it is so beautiful, isn’t it? Woody just whispered into my ear during the vows. She seems to be losing control of herself. She’s already married. Why does she need to get all sniffily at a wedding?

Now she just handed me a tissue. Just when I thought I could get through this without someone noticing my emotion, she hands me a tissue! If only she knew what was really going on inside this head. She is so clueless. Wait a minute, where did she get a tissue from? I can’t really use the tissue. That would look ridiculous. I don’t want it and I can’t give it back. Perhaps I can accidentally drop it on the ground. No, that would be disrespectful. This is a Church, after all. Maybe if I can stuff it into my flowers, that would work. I really do think this will work. OK, done. There is one more problem solved in my life.

I just realized as I stand here among the dressed up people, that the closest I ever got to wearing the white dress was in my dreams. I always had this reoccur- ring dream that I was getting married. I had a big beautiful dress. Everyone was watching me as I walked down the aisle. It was all of the typical stuff. My huge Church was packed with people. Obviously that means I have a lot of friends who love me. So, I would get to the altar and hold the hands of the love of my life. Unfortunately, I never did see his face, but I can remember that he had very nicely manicured hands. Of course it was in a boy type sort of way. That is very rare among boys and strangely, a very attractive quality in them. I know that through this dream, I felt very happy and beautiful. The priest would ask me if I would take this boy for my husband. Instead of answering, I turned around and ran past all of the people whose jaws dropped. What was wrong with me there? I ran out on the big party I always hoped for? That is insanity. What a waste of time planning that whole thing just to run out on it. Anyway, I left the Church and woke up. I had that dream for years and they finally stopped two years ago when I had my break up with my ex.

Since the groom in those dreams never had a face, I never knew who he was. I had a strange suspicion that it could have possibly maybe have been my ex. It must have been him. Why else would those dreams have stopped after I left him? Should I have left him? Was he really the boy in my dreams? Maybe those dreams really did mean that I was supposed to leave him. Maybe it’s something that could happen way off in my future. Maybe it wasn’t my ex at all and it is all meaningless. Now that I have no wedding dreams at all, does that mean I will be alone always? Does that mean I will never be married? This confusion is hurting my head.

I really have to stop my attempt to cry here. It is so unbecoming. If anyone sees me, at least they will think I am just showing happy tears for the magic that is known as marriage. I just need to subtlely catch these tears before they fall out of my eye. If I blink really fast, maybe the eyes will dry. OK, that seems to be working. Maybe I can people watch now. I am looking at the bride’s side and groom’s side. No one seems to be crying at all. What’s the deal? Isn’t that what is supposed to happen at weddings?

With this ring, I thee wed, says the bride.

Ev apparently just slipped the ball and chain onto Colden. I guess I just drifted off through the ceremony thus far. Oh well, no big deal. If I’ve seen one, I’ve seen all I need to see. They don’t change much from one procedure to another. If I really have a strong desire to witness it, I can always watch the video.

I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride, the priest says.

Ev and Colden share a small peck on the lips. They spent all that time planning for this life altering event that led up to this moment and all they could come up with was a peck. This is supposed to be one of the most memorable moments of their lives and that is the best they could do? Geez, Ev was a little friendlier than that to her boyfriends in high school! That public display of affection was just pathetic. Even though I’m not getting married, at least I know how to kiss a boy. Maybe my kiss is too powerful. Maybe that is why I am not married.

Oh, I think you can do better than that. Why don’t you give it another try, Mr. and Mrs. Gola, says the priest.

He obviously shares my opinion. Smart boy.

That didn’t take much convincing. Colden just leaned Ev backwards while embracing her back. He gave her a very mushy kiss. It almost looked like something off the cover of one of those romance novels I always remembered seeing at checkout counters at the grocery store when I was a kid. Of course there is much less cleavage here and the boy is wearing a shirt.

Now that I am officially the last single girl on the planet, there are other things to do. The newly joined couple is on their way to give roses to their parents. That is our signal as the wedding party to go away and sit in our reserved pews in the Church. Since this is a Catholic ceremony, a Mass is included. I must now get ready for my Church exercise. There really is an awful lot of standing up, sitting down, standing up again, kneeling, and then recycling that over again. When I was a child, I would sometimes forget which part was supposed to come next. At times, I would rocket myself out of my seat into standing position while everyone else went to kneel. I was so embarrassed always. Now that I think about it, when I was not so tall, I was the same height standing as other people kneeling. Maybe that wasn’t so bad. The only time I really had cause for embarrassment was when I had to go to one of my many Masses during school time. It was a Catholic school, so us plaid skirt wearing folks had to go to Church rituals quite often.

When I would rise at the improper time, I was among people all of the same approximate height. Yes, I would stand out there. All I needed was another weapon for anyone to use to pick on me. That was always fun.

Well, it seems to be I have a bit of a distraction here. I had no idea what the wedding programs would look like, so I don’t think I can avoid looking at it as I am sitting for the next few minutes. It’s so exciting. I know I will see my name in print among these four pages. I know it won’t be much of a thrill for anyone else, but it still remains that way for me.

There it is—the wedding party. It almost looks like a cast listing for a Broadway performance. It seems close enough, seeing we have roles to play today. Everyone’s name is written in a basic font, so at least the letters are very distinguishable. I just hate those typefaces that look like someone’s chicken scratch.

Let’s see, playing the roles of Bride and Groom today are Amy Evan and Colden Gola. Then there are the unmarried matches of Matron of Honor and Best Man, Amy Depew and Wes Seneca. Next are the lovely Darian Lancaster and Buff Alony. The final pairing of Bridesmaid and Groomsman are Amy Elmwood and Alden Amherst. There should be a flower girl and ring bearer listed, but they aren’t. I don’t believe the final decision on the coupling was made by press time. It seems there were too many children to choose from within the families. As a result, there were a lot of fights. I believe the choice that was made was based on whose parents would give a bigger wedding gift.

Whoa, let’s back up here! Darian Lancaster? They misspelled my name?! My name is Darien, not Darian. Why do these things always happen to me? Of course the spelling of my title is correct. They certainly did not misspell Bridesmaid. People in general are called Ms. or Mrs. or Mr. Those are the normal check off boxes on most forms. I on the other hand, appear to be stuck forever with being known as Bridesmaid Darien Lancaster. Being known forever as that is almost as bad as hearing ‘I like you as a friend’ or ‘It’s not you, it’s me.’ Oh, the life I must lead.

At least I was not paired up with Wonderboy. I know I would have been maid of honor if he wasn’t best man. I find it very strange that he has the title of’best man’. Just because he gets that title in a wedding, it does not really mean that he is any kind of best anything. I know he is not the best out there. At least if I was maid of honor, it would have been a nice change in title. Also, being a maid of honor really does mean that I would be honored. Plus, I must be next in line to be married. After all, I would be standing closer to the center of the wedding photo, which is where you want to be when you get married. Anyway, it is best

that we did not end up getting paired up today. That could have been destructive and devastating for him. Of course I would be just fine.

May I introduce to you for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Colden Gola, says the priest.

Ev and Colden are facing the crowd of onlookers, seeming like they belong on the top of a cake. They are ready to take their first walk together as one instead of two. That is, I thought they would be ready. Ev must be reflecting on what the priest said. She just turned around and seems to be whispering something to him.

The priest slightly clears his throat. May I now present to the world, Mr. Colden Gola and for the first time, Mrs. Amy Evan-Gola.

Ev nods her head and gives me a wink. Colden is rolling his eyes. Ah yes, there’s the signs of a happily married couple already.

The parade of dressed up people will follow behind after the newly legal couple get a good head start in another round of picture taking. I think I may almost feel like a celebrity arriving at an awards show. If I think about it, I am in an expensive dress, and I will have a boy as an accessory on my arm. I can always pretend he is my famous date and I am up for an award I am positive I will win. I soon walk down a carpeted path and have my picture taken by people I do not know. Maybe I should try out my beauty queen wave. I’m sure I can look pretty good in a picture or two.

I think we are quite possibly a little more structured than an awards program. Who am I kidding? I know we are more detailed than anything seen on TV. If things go wrong at a famous people convention, someone may get fired or advertisers may be none too pleased. Viewers of the televised functions may even be amused at the outbreak of famous chaos. But nothing is more devastating than a bride who is having problems at her wedding. That is why we must follow our choreography properly. Hopefully, we have memorized our instructions in accordance to what we were told. I would not want to experience the wrath of Bride Ev.

Pewey has just left the pew for her turn in the parade. Wow, I just got the cuteness of that. Pewey is in a pew. I guess she might just belong in a wedding in a Church, just for the fun factor of that statement. I just love my strange assortment of friends. Anyway, I was strictly told I must count to fifteen before I dare to step out of the safety of my pew. In order for things to work smoothly, there is a precise way to count today. I must recite in my head, ‘one wedding, two wedding,’ and continue until I reach ‘fifteen wedding.’ Then I may step onto the white carpet, make a ninety degree turn to the right and gently entwine my arm with that of Buff, whom I am paired up with on this day. Then, and only then, am I allowed to proceed with walking.

It appears to be that I forgot to count. Oh well, I guess now is good enough. I don’t think Ev will actually be watching my every move. If anyone considers turning me in if I am off by any millisecond, that person would be in need of some serious kind of brain help. OK, I am stepping and turning right at ninety two degrees, just to make it interesting. Now I am grabbing an arm.

Well hello there. Come here often?

I know that voice. That is not the right voice. He didn’t! I don’t even need to look at him. That is not on the agenda for today.

Hey, it would be polite to say hello back to me, sweetie, Wonderboy whispers into my ear.

I am trying to get further away from him by moving my steps a little more towards the right. That of course means I am not exactly walking in the center of the carpet pathway before me. In fact, my dress is almost brushing the flowers hanging off the sides of the pews. The further away from Wonderboy, the better off I will be. I am still trying not to even look at him or speak to him. I do not need that caught on video.

You wouldn’t be trying to get away from me, would you? Wonderboy says as we are halfway through this current walk.

The boy just can’t seem to take a hint. He of course feels the need to move ever so closer to me. Must he cling? There is no more room left for me to move away. We are seventy-five percent of the way down the aisle and I really cannot take anymore of him. There is only one thing left for me to do. I’m sure no one will mind, since we are almost out of picture range.

That was easy. It happened so fast. Wonderboy crushed some of the flowers dangling into the pathway. All that work I’ve been doing at the gym must be paying off finally. That was quite a shove I gave him. I am very proud. That worked out much better than I could have planned.

You really should have waited until the open bar to start your drinking, I say as I continue walking. Before I know it, the pest is back and attached to my arm again.

I look straight ahead and what do I see? Oh yeah, Ev saw everything. We are walking through the back doors of the Church, which leads into a large hallway area. That is normally used for the late comers to Mass. For events such as today’s, it is for receiving lines of people saying ‘You look beautiful,’ whether they mean it or not.

Ev seems to think there has been some serious injustice done to her wedding. She is marching over towards our way. If she wants to separate us, that’s just fine. I have no problem with that. I will be happy. I will be joyous. I will be grateful. I will be relieved.

Ev is now mildly screaming some babbling. "What are you two doing walking together? That is not what was supposed to happen. Hello?! Did we not get this right at rehearsal?"

I had already removed my arm from Wonderboy, as a means to remedy this situation as soon as possible. I am opening my mouth, but Wonderboy feels the need to speak first. Of course he does. He must try to win at everything. Of course he must speak first. I will simply let him win here, only for my own reasons and not for him.

It’s my fault completely, he says while focusing his attention on Ev instead of me. I’m sorry I was standing in the wrong place.

Wow, did I just hear correctly? Did Wonderboy just apologize? I do believe that is a first for him. I did not know he really could speak those words. I am almost impressed. At least he was right about taking the blame. So he said he was sorry. I never thought I would see the day. There really is a first