“Mama!” Ian tried.
“I’m serious,” she went on. “You can’t have a married woman pretend to be a new bride. Down here that’s almost like cheating on your husband.”
“I ain’t heard that before,” Mr. Dupree said.
“Well, you ain’t been in no wedding but your own neither, so unless someone else in here knows about New Orleans wedding traditions, I suggest we find someone else, who isn’t married, to walk down the aisle for whatever her name is.”
“Mama, stop it! Her name is Scarlet,” Ian said.
“I’m sorry, son, but people keep calling her all types of things and stuff and I just met her, so I’m trying to keep up.”
“That’s fine, Mrs. Dupree,” Krista said. She turned to the bridesmaids standing up front to pick someone to stand in and walk down the aisle for Scarlet.
“No need to send someone from the front. Just let Rachel do it. Rachel can walk down the aisle!” Mrs. Dupree said with mock randomness in her tone.
“Me? No. I—I can’t.” I shook my head. (No way!)
“Yes, you can!” Mrs. Dupree pushed.
“But I’m—I—”
“Nonsense. Let’s do this. You girls already said we don’t have a lot of time in here.” Mrs. Dupree took over. She went and stood next to Krista in the aisle, grabbed the iPad, ordered Scarlet to come and sit with her mother, and rushed my escort, the matron of honor, and the best man down the aisle with no music.
“I really don’t think I’m the right person for this.” I tried to back out of the situation again just before Mr. Bloom took my arm.
“Oh, aren’t you the most beautiful bride,” Mrs. Dupree said. “Isn’t she beautiful, Ian? The perfect bride.” She looked at Mrs. Bloom and explained quickly and nonchalantly, “They’re best friends. I always expected them to get married. All of this other stuff is really a surprise to me.”
“Let’s hurry up and get this over with,” Krista said.
“No, wait. I need a picture!” Mrs. Dupree started snapping pictures.
There was a look of terror growing on Scarlet’s face.
Krista cued the music anyway. It was just instrumental, but Mrs. Dupree started singing the words, serenading me as if I was the bride.
“Here comes the bride, all dressed in white. . . .”
Mr. Bloom started walking.
I was holding back, though, nearly pulling him back to the start.
“Sweetly, serenely in the soft glowing light,” Mrs. Dupree sang on, clicking pictures with her phone simultaneously.
Ian was in his own world, smiling at me like Mrs. Dupree was. He couldn’t see Scarlet about to run down the aisle and snatch me off of her father’s arm.
“Lovely to see, marching to thee, sweet love united for eternity . . .”
“No!” Scarlet hollered after Mr. Bloom got me to take three steps down the aisle.
Everyone turned to her.
“No!” she repeated.
“No to what, baby?” Mrs. Dupree asked.
“I don’t want Rachel to walk down the aisle. I want to do it.” Scarlet got up and started walking to the back of the atrium with her arms folded over her chest. She was turning back into the girl who’d fallen apart at the dress studio.
“But it’s tradition—” Mrs. Dupree said.