Beautiful Day(100)

“I’ll see y’all later, darling. I’m meeting Skip in town.”

“All right,” Chance said. “I’ll see you at the reception.”

“No, I don’t think so, darling,” Helen said. “Skip has invited me for dinner at the Club Car.”

“Oh,” Chance said. “Okay.” He didn’t sound like he cared one way or the other. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then, I guess.”

“Now, remember,” Helen said. “Don’t eat the crab cakes!” She laughed, kissed Chance again, and descended the concrete steps to the sidewalk without a further word to anyone. She sauntered off in a flash of shocking, hair-raising pink.

Ann stared after Helen with her mouth agape. Helen was leaving the wedding before the reception. She had RSVP’d yes; Ann knew there was a place card with Helen’s name on it, and a seat for her at a table in the Carmichaels’ backyard. Ann knew that $120 had been spent on behalf of Helen’s expected presence at the reception. She couldn’t just walk off to meet Skip Lafferty! She couldn’t just leave like that! When Jim found out that Helen had chosen not to attend the reception, he would be relieved. He would say, No one wanted her around, anyway. He would expect Ann to share his feelings. Now they could eat and drink and laugh and talk and dance without worrying about Helen. It would be just as Jim had wanted it; it would be as if Ann had never invited Helen to the wedding in the first place, or as if Ann had invited Helen and Helen had declined. But Ann found herself feeling vexed. Ann had wanted Helen to see her and Jim laughing and talking and dancing; Ann had wanted Helen to feel bereft and jealous.

But instead Helen had walked off.

Wait! Ann wanted to call out. You can’t leave! I haven’t had a chance to ignore you yet!





THE NOTEBOOK, PAGE 7


Bridesmaid Dresses


Oh, the bridesmaid dresses! When I was in my twenties, I had a whole closetful of atrocious taffeta dresses—mustard yellow, Pepto-Bismol pink, and one with navy and red diagonal stripes where we all had to stand a certain way or the stripes didn’t align, which made for visual confusion and caused dizziness and nausea in those who gazed upon us. There was one flowing dress in an unfortunate apricot hue that I wore when I was pregnant with Kevin that could have served as a pup tent for a family of four.

I am thinking silk shantung, sheath, nipped at the waist, maybe off-the-shoulder—simple, classic—either long with a slit to the knee or cut just above the knee. I am thinking the green of new leaves—a fresh, just-cut-grass green, a green that will echo with the delicate embroidered ivy on Grammie’s antique linens, a green that will make people think of life in full bloom.





DOUG


His age was showing. It was only six o’clock, and already he was tired enough to go to sleep.

He had a decision to make. He could either go in search of Pauline, or he could fulfill his duties as the father of the bride and stand in his place in the receiving line and smile and shake hands with 150 guests. He really wasn’t sure which was the right course of action. Rhonda was standing on the lawn outside the church when they all emerged, and so wherever Pauline had run off to, she had gone alone.

What would Beth want him to do? She might insist he put Jenna first at any cost. But she might remind him that Pauline was still his wife, for better or for worse, and obviously something was wrong, something that Doug had set in motion, and now was the time to deal with it.

He couldn’t believe she had run from the church. If it had been Beth who had run from the church, Doug would have followed right after her.

Beth would never have run from the church.

Doug decided to ask for help. He approached Roger.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” Doug said. Roger was standing off to the side, holding his clipboard and his pencil. He was wearing a white shirt, striped tie, and navy blazer and looked just like every other male guest at the wedding. But Roger was a quiet warrior; he exuded competence and gravitas, and Doug was confident that not only could the man deal with errant tree branches, but he could deal with disintegrating relationships, as well.

“Sure, Doug,” Roger said. “What is it?”

“My wife ran out of the church,” Doug said.

“Yes,” Roger said. “I noticed that.”

“Should I take time now to go find her and see what the matter is?” Doug asked.

“You don’t have time right now,” Roger said. “You have the receiving line, then photographs.”

“Is Pauline supposed to be in the photographs?” Doug asked.

Roger consulted his clipboard. “Some of them,” he said. “So I suggest you send someone else to go find her and bring her back here.”