She nodded, "I know. honey. I know." She quickly wiped off any semblance of sadness and smiled, practically jumping in her seat. "Oh. I'm so nervous I can't eat anything. I think I'll go up and soak in a hot bath and try desperately to relax. Come see me before you go to sleep. okay?"
"Okay," I said.
I watched her go inside, and then I sat and looked out at the ocean, watching the sun sink below the horizon and waiting for the first star. I waited so long that by the time I went up to see Mommy I found her asleep in her bed, a smile of pure happiness on her lips.
"Good night." I whispered, and went to my room where the silence and the solitude finally brought home to me what was going to happen tomorrow.
.
The wedding was everything Mommy had dreamed it would be and far more than I had imagined. I thought she looked beautiful in her wedding gown, and I could see from the faces of the guests that many of them did as well, especially the men who looked enviously at Winston. As he moved through the line of well-wishers his mare
contemporary friends either gave him lusty smiles or leaned in like roosters to peck at his ear with something similar to "You lucky dog," I'm sure.
For her part Mommy surprised me by not looking half as nervous as I had anticipated. In fact, she looked as if she had been brought up here among these very wealthy people. She knew so many by first name. It was apparent to me that she had taken detailed mental notes at every single social event to which Winston had taken her. Most of the guests she spoke with looked as if they had expected no less. How could you forget that this one was called Brownie or that one Muffy or Bunny, even though they were married to men with names like Chester Lloyd Marlborough and Stratton Newton Polk, Jr.?
When they were introduced to me I could see their thoughts in their eyes: Winston was old enough to be my grandfather, not my stepfather.
My legs trembled as I walked down the aisle of flowers to the altar with Mommy. The sheer opulence and grand scale of this wedding made it seem all the more unreal to me. Looking around at the army of servants, the decorated tables, the ice sculptures, the wonderful displays of every imaginable food, the dance floor, and the twenty-six-piece orchestra. I thought I was surely in some fantasy. I had wandered into another woman's dream, and soon I'd wake up in bed, blink, and realize none of this was happening.
When the ceremony began, the minister's voice assured me it was real. Mommy avoided looking at me through most of it I think she was afraid of what my face would say and how that would affect her. She focused entirely on Winston, and together they repeated the vows until the minister declared them husband and wife. Winston gave her a quick, almost fatherly kiss, and the guests cheered.
Everything went as it had been orchestrated, down to the very toasts of good wishes. Winston's friends rising to speak for exactly forty-five seconds, almost to the man jokingly warning him not to be "too vigorous a husband." Many of the couples I met resembled Mommy and Winston, however, the women looking years younger than their husbands. mostly. I thought, as a result of thousands and thousands of dollars' worth of cosmetic surgery,
Both Dallas and Warren were very happy for Mommy and me. At one point I overheard Mommy tell Dallas she owed it all to her. They swore they would never stop being friends, and they cried and hugged. I had to look away, and that's when I was forced to confront Phoebe, who was sitting and glaring at me. scowling. If ever a face was a glass window it was hers. She was probably not even aware of how it was betraying her jealous, hateful thoughts.
"Lucky you," she spat when I approached her. She was so angry and envious it brought tears to her eyes. She threw back her head and brushed her hair from her cheek, turning back into her old defiant self again quickly. "I'll marry someone this rich someday and have just as much."
"You probably will. Phoebe," I said.
"You think you're better than me now, don't you?"
"Not because of having money or living in this grand estate," I said.
"Right," she muttered. "I didn't want to come here, but my father said if I didn't I couldn't get my car replaced."
"Well. I'm glad you didn't come because you wanted to come. I would have worried more."
She squinted and pursed her lips when she looked back at me, "Don't think you can now invite all my friends over here or invite Roger and Wally and have them hate me," she warned.
"I won't. You're welcome to them."
"Oh, so you're going to make better friends and go to a ritzy private school now, huh?"
I stared out at the boisterous crowd of guests, some of the women dripping with diamonds, glittering like alabaster statues, their laughter tinkling with its thinness, its artificiality. All around me women were air-kissing one another, commenting on gowns, comparing designers, and then conspiring to say something unpleasant about someone they had just greeted with gushing joy. I felt I was at a costume party more than at my mother's wedding. Why couldn't she and Winston just have had a simple, authentic, and sincere ceremony with just a few really close and dear friends? Why was all this required? Would it make their marriage any more substantial or guarantee their happiness any more? At least they would have albums, wedding pictures, and other mementos to give the day a false sense of immortality, I thought.
"You know what. Phoebe." I said, continuing to look out at the wedding party. "If some angel appeared at this very moment and asked if I would trade all this, give it all up, and become poverty stricken to bring Randy back..." I looked at her. "I would do it in a heartbeat."
Her stern mask of defiance shattered like brittle china. Her lips trembled.
"Have a good life," I told her, and walked off. I spent as much time alone as I could, sitting off to the side of the dais, watching the festivities. Despite the variety of delicious foods. I had little appetite and ate almost nothing.
Winston finally realized I was off by myself and quickly came to ask me to dance. I started to shake my head.
"Oh, you have to." he said. "We've got to show these stuffy Palm Beach people how to have a good time. Grace. Please," he begged.
I couldn't help but smile and give him my hand. He led me out to the dance floor, and just as he had predicted, almost all eyes were on us. I saw Mommy sitting and looking proudly at us. Winston held me firmly. I thought to myself that he must have been a really good athlete in his youth. He had a wonderful sense of timing and rhythm.
"Think we made your mother happy?" he asked me, "Yes," I said.