You are in fine form,” I say to Angelica, who is tap-dancing in the church foyer while we wait for the processional music to begin.
“Peyton will be here. I’m nervous, okay?” She bites her lip.
“Have you seen him?”
“No.” She looks out over the crowd from the safety of a palm plant. “Yes. There he is. He’s just sitting down next to Beau. He’s standing next to some woman and…I don’t believe it.” Her face emerges from the plant pale and sweaty.
“What?” I hand her a tissue from a nearby box and motion for her to pat her face. I peer through the palm but can barely make out Peyton’s head next to Beau. They are talking and laughing. “He looks good.”
“So does the woman next to him.” She starts gulping her breaths and bends over slightly to catch more oxygen. “I waited too long. What was I thinking, Mari? Why didn’t you and everyone else slap me and ask what the heck I was doing? Why!” Angelica now grabs me by the sleeve.
I try to get a better view, but the woman is wearing a hat. “I don’t think she is with him, Angelica. You are overreacting.” But just as the assurance leaves my lips, I see the hat turn, the pretty profile smile at Peyton, and Peyton lean in to nudge the pretty smiling profile.
Caitlin approaches us from the direction of the bathroom. Her hair clip had slipped and the wall of hair had returned. Now she has all of her hair secured in an elegant chignon.
“Can you see Carson?” Caitlin asks, peeking through the crack between the door and the wall.
Angelica does not address the question but continues her panicked ranting, “She grabbed his arm when she turned the corner to sit down. That’s an affectionate gesture. I’m an idiot. I’m an idiot.”
The music begins and I turn on my wailing friend. “You are not an idiot. You made a healthy choice for yourself instead of doing what everyone else thought was the thing to do. We should all be so smart.”
I release my hold on her wrist and realize I am lecturing both of us.
“What?” Caitlin is scanning the room for an obvious disaster and sees nothing.
“Are you ready, girls?” Sadie comes up behind us in the hallway. The addition of beautiful diamond earrings has done the impossible—made her look more breathtaking. She notices my look. “These are the ones from Carson. Aren’t they perfect? Isn’t this all amazing?”
There is no need to answer her; the evening is undoubtedly perfect. I feel a bit sad for Sadie that we are her opening act down the aisle with Angelica one shallow breath away from a panic attack, but it is time.
Harry and some little girl, who is a distant cousin, start off with the help of the wedding coordinator. She claps her hands lightly to set their pace.
“Caitin, that’s your cue.” I usher her to stand between the opened sanctuary doors and she has a false start—her Japanese purse tassels get caught on the door handle. I unhook it and push her forward. She regains her balance quickly, but the wedding hostess gives me a dirty look.
Angelica freezes. Her eyes are as big as Ding Dongs, which remind me of my extreme hunger. “I cannot do this,” she says with a tremble in her lower lip.
Sadie steps in between us and takes Angelica’s hand. “Are you nervous, honey?”
I recognize the voice. It is the one Sadie used with Harry before she figured out he was reading Thoreau and Keats.
“I blew it. Peyton is out there with another woman. She is attractive and confident enough to wear a big hat in public. He deserves someone like that.”
Sadie takes the tissue from her hand and uses it to wipe Angelica’s nose. “Then let him see what he is missing.” Sadie steps back and Melanie rushes up behind her to straighten the train.
I lean in to Angelica’s ear as the music begins again for her entrance. “She might have the confidence to wear a big hat, but you have the style and panache to wear a psychedelic dress!”
Angelica nods, satisfied with this thought. The wedding hostess positions her toward the altar and gives her elbow a solid tap.
“You see,” I say, “sometimes a little force is necessary.” I wink. She does not smile but waves like a traffic controller. This is my cue to make up time in the procession by quickly following Melanie. I can hear her giggling nervously behind her bouquet of lilies.
I take my place on the top step and watch as Sadie makes her entrance. Everyone gasps with admiration while the bride elegantly saunters down the aisle on her uncle’s arm. I look over at Carson, who is completely enraptured. He wipes his eyes quickly and scratches his cheek to cover his sentimentality.
Our friends are standing as a couple before us, reverently watching the minister and nodding to his words of commitment, covenant, and unconditional love. A soloist rings out a rendition of a song that makes me want to go pick out china patterns. I glance toward Beau, who is checking his BlackBerry, which I didn’t even know he owned. But Peyton is looking straight at me. He shrugs toward Beau like “what can you do?” and then he raises his wrist, points just below it, and mouths something at me. I squint to show my confusion. He must think I am giving him a dirty look because he points to his girlfriend with the hat and shakes his head. I squint again—this time intending a dirty look and route my gaze to the nearly weds.
And then I get it.
The purses. Peyton was motioning to remind me about the message in Angelica’s purse. I glance at Angelica, but there is no way to communicate with her now.
Sadie and Carson walk toward the unity candle. Like sunflowers trailing the sun, we bridesmaids delicately turn our faces and shift our bodies to follow our radiant friends.
The soloist returns for a song that involves wings and soaring. Whatever it is, I cannot follow because I’m staring at the intricate hem of Sadie’s dress. Pearls are sewn into the swirls of silk trim. Sadie told me she envisioned this dress all of her life. I asked when she had this dream of yards of silk. It came to her mind shortly after she dreamed about the man she was to marry. So when she saw the dress in the magazine, and later the man across the room, she just knew.
I look across the room. Beau is keying in a message with his thumbs.
“And do you, Carson, take Sadie to be your lawfully wedded…”
I’ve never envisioned a dress.
“I do,” he says sweetly.
I’ve never dreamed of a groom.
“And do you, Sadie, take Carson to be your lawfully wedded…”
Will I even know?
“I do,” Sadie says with confidence and eloquence.
I’ll hope so.
After we had regally made our way back down the aisle I whisper to Angelica, “Open your purse.”
She slowly follows my strange instruction and her red eyes brighten and her posture completely changes. Angelica passes the note to me.
On the back of the receipt slip, clever, visionary Peyton had months before written “She’s my sister. Now will you go out with me?”