CHAPTER SIX
Weddings Suck
Elsea stood in the deacon’s office at the church and looked at herself in the mirror. The mirror had always been her enemy, but today it was kind to her. Her face was made up and her hair was pulled back away from her face in a perfect updo. Her grandmother’s veil cascaded along her shoulders, and the white crystals on the dress sparkled under the florescent lighting. She looked more beautiful and serene than she ever thought she could, but on the inside she was screaming.
After leaving Peter’s house the night before, she didn’t know what she was going to do. The last thing she remembered was getting up out of the mud and walking inside to get her shoes. Peter stood at the door and watched her leave. She managed to wipe some of the mud from her face, but she was still covered in it, and the only thing he said to her was, “See you tomorrow.”
Even as she stood there, she could still smell the muddied soil on her skin, and it made her sick to her stomach. How was she going to marry Peter after what had happened last night? Even with that, she still loved him and didn’t know what her life would be without him.
It won’t be that bad, she said to herself. She had been voiceless, passive her whole life. Never really in control of who she was in the moment, let alone who she wanted to be.
The door opened, and her mother walked in, distracting her from her thoughts.
“Are you ready, Elsea?” she asked. She came up behind Elsea and stared at herself in the mirror, primping her hair.
Her mother wasn’t like most mothers. At least not like the ones that she saw on TV. They doted over their daughters on their wedding days, gave useful life advice, and embraced them before they started their new life. But not her mother. Elsea felt that she was worthless in her mother’s eyes, and the harsh truth was that she would never get the embrace that she so desperately wanted because she was the wrong daughter.
“Did you hear me, Elsea? Are you ready?” her mother asked again, irritated.
“Yes … yes, I am,” Elsea said as she took one last glimpse in the mirror.
“All right. I will be outside greeting the guests. At least this is a small, quick service. I’m so glad you don’t have any bridesmaids or groomsmen because if there was a wedding party involved, this would have been miserable.” With that, she took her leave.
Elsea felt sadder than she did before. She’d wanted to have bridesmaids and all of that other stuff, but the truth was that she didn’t have any friends. Sure, there were people that she knew and interacted with on occasion, but most of them were Peter’s friends, not hers. Even the people at work thought she was strange; she knew because they would stop talking or move away every time she got close. Even her own sister wouldn’t stand up there with her, not that she wanted her to. Elsea had asked because her mother made her, but of course she was turned down. Her sister appeared to everyone else to be a perfect, beautiful, charismatic young woman that had a heart of gold. But Elsea knew better. She was a mean, hateful little bitch, and she knew it if no one else did.
“Elsea, they will be ready for you in about ten minutes,” a voice behind her said.
Elsea jumped, thinking she was by herself.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” Rhema said, approaching Elsea.
Elsea didn’t want Rhema to read the doubt on her face, but she did a poor job at hiding it. She seemed to be so perceptive about everything else, and she couldn’t bear the shame.
“What’s wrong?” Rhema asked.
Elsea’s body tensed. It was all too obvious, but Elsea tried her best to give the most convincing lie.
“I’m just a little nervous, that’s all.”
“You look a little more than nervous,” Rhema said, adjusting her train. “You look petrified. What is it?”
Elsea looked at Rhema, unsure of what to say to her. She could feel sweat gathering under her dress, and a wave of heat overcame her. She did not really know Rhema. They had moved in almost a year ago, but Elsea had never really spoken to her for an extended period of time until the party. That’s how it was on their block. Over the years, people would move in and move out and no one would really take notice. No one really knew the people that they lived next to. Even now, there were two vacant houses across the street from them. The neighborhood was a revolving door, and she didn’t expect Rhema and her husband to last long either.
However, in the brief moments of encountering each other, Elsea could tell that there was something about Rhema that was a little off, but she couldn’t quite place what it was. But she had no one else to confide in. She had no sister to talk to and no mother to talk to and certainly not an understanding father. She was tired of being brushed off, even by Peter, so she spoke.
“Peter has been cheating on me.”
“What?” Rhema asked. “How do you know?”
Elsea lowered her head. She already knew, she thought. She could tell.
“I caught him last night with another woman,” Elsea said, crouching to her knees, burying her hands in her face. “I don’t think I can do this.”
Rhema crouched down beside her, awkwardly embracing her.
Elsea didn’t understand why she was being so nice to her, but her touch was comforting no matter how distant it felt initially.
“You can’t marry him now,” Rhema said, staring at Elsea’s reflection in the mirror. “You can do so much better than that.”
“Really? Do you think so?” Elsea raised her head and looked at her reflection in the mirror. The tears were coming; she could feel it.
“I know so! You’re a decent-looking girl, and you have a job. See? You already have a lot going for you.” Rhema patted her on the back.
Elsea slowly stood up and reassessed her appearance. She still looked frail in her own eyes, so she tried to see herself through what Rhema was telling her. She wasn’t sure if she could believe it, but with each breath she took, she absorbed Rhema’s words, and her emotions overflowed. Could she go through with it? Could she make a decision that would change the rest of her life in a matter of seconds? Decision-making had never been a strength, but maybe today was the day to leave all of that in the past.
When she looked at herself in the mirror, somewhere deep inside, she knew that what Rhema was saying was true. The time of being weak was over. She was going to make a decision for herself—not one for her mother, not one for her father or Peter, but for herself. She was going to be a new woman, a new person, and she had Rhema to thank for that. She reached behind her, grabbed the pull, and unzipped the dress.
“Thank you, Rhema. Thank you for giving me the boost that I needed to do this.”
Rhema looked at her, smiling as she stepped out of the wedding dress. Elsea moved frantically throughout the room, looking for the clothes that she had worn to the church.
“No, no, don’t thank me. You deserve so much better, and you are going to have it. I am certain.”
Elsea finished tying her shoes, grabbed the keys to her beat-up car, and walked out of the back door of the deacon’s office. It was the beginning. The spark of what was to come for her.
You deserve much better, and you are going to have it. The words kept replaying over and over in her head. Life is going to get better, she thought. It is going to get better.
Rhema sat there for a moment to give Elsea time to get away before she went and told Mrs. Kelly that Elsea was gone. She couldn’t wait to see the look on her face.