“I’m sorry,” April said with a yawn. Lola was nursing away and she seemed oblivious to the baby attached to her body. I wondered if I would ever be like that. I didn’t think so.
We arrived at the church and rushed right into hair and makeup.
I was in a daze for the next two hours as I was transformed into Rory Clarke, bride. Our photographer was sure to catch as many candid moments as she could and my bridesmaids kept me laughing and relatively calm. I hid my shaking hands from everyone.
April spent her time wrangling Gracie and Fiona so they wouldn’t touch anyone’s dress or mess up their own, or do anything else to “ruin” my day.
“Don’t worry. They’re little girls. I understand,” I told her as she held Fiona back from jumping off one of the couches they had set up in the room.
She just gave me a tired smile and sat back down so the hairdresser’s assistant could take the rest of the rollers out of her hair.
“Do you have any last-minute wisdom for me?” I asked Mom as I stood in front of the mirror and she pinned on my veil.
She thought for a moment and then put her hands on my shoulders.
“Love one another. Even when you don’t want to. Even when you can’t stand the sight of him because you’re so mad. Life isn’t meant to be perfect, but you can get pretty damn close.” She squeezed my shoulders and then gave me a light kiss on the cheek so she didn’t leave any lipstick marks. I heard the snap of the camera and stared at myself.
Sloane did some last-minute adjustments and there was a knock at the door. Marisol answered it and spoke to whoever it was through a slim crack, as if she didn’t want to let whoever it was into the room.
She turned and smiled at me.
“It’s him.” Despite everyone telling me that it was bad luck, I walked up to the door and put my hand out. He clasped it in his and then I felt his lips on my fingers.
“I just couldn’t deal without seeing you today,” he said and I thought about whipping open the door to see him, but there was something to having the first time I saw him today be at the altar.
“I know. But I’ll see you very soon.”
“The one in white?” he asked, squeezing my hand.
“The one in white.”
I had my borrowed, old, new and blue in the form of a pair of earrings from my mother, my ring, my dress and blue ribbons on my undergarments.
Mom stuck her head out the door and then said that it was time. Marisol, Chloe, Sloane, April and the girls all filed out and I was left with Mom.
I refused to cry. I wasn’t going to cry. Not yet.
We just held each other’s hands.
“This is it. This is your day,” she said. “Good luck to you both. I know you’ve chosen well and he’s going to be a good husband and a good father.” I swallowed a huge lump in my throat.
“How do you know?”
“I just do.” She smiled through a few tears.
We embraced and then there was a knock at the door.
“Are you ready, Rory Girl?” Dad looked so dapper in his tux. Sloane had outdone herself. Mom’s dark red dress looked like it was ripped from the 40s and suited her perfectly.
I took a breath and Mom left. Dad came in and held his arm out to me.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I said, picking up my bouquet of red roses wrapped in a light blue ribbon. At the last second, I remembered something.
“Can you do me a favor?” I asked him, pulling a safety pin out of my purse.
“Anything,” he said.
“Can you help me pin this on?” He looked at the crinkled sticky note with the word BRIDE scrawled on it and then up at me.