It’s total madness at Lily’s condo. The photographer is here; my flower girl Rory is here with her mom, my parents are also here along with my grandmother.
I’m starting to freak out now!
“Lily!” I yell.
“What? What’s wrong?” She asks.
“I’m freaking out! Please come outside with me. I need a cigarette!”
My dad joins us, and my mom stays inside annoying the photographer about pictures. I knew she would do that. I already warned her she did not pay for the photographer, so she does not get to pull him everywhere she wants getting pictures. I also told her I warned him about her too, so he already knows to ignore her direction.
The photographer comes outside and tells me his ideas for pictures here. I quickly tell him I am not the typical bride. I do not like the stupid pictures of me looking in the mirror at myself with my mother in the background looking back at me. I don’t want the picture of me looking out the window pretending I’m looking at something either. He thinks I’m funny. He seems happy because I assume he knows I’m gonna be a piece of cake. Glad to know I can please someone today.
No one has questioned me yet if I still want to go through with this and have to live the rest of my life with an extremely vocal mother-in-law. I’ve guarded my heart my entire life like some deep dark secret. Jameson is the first one I ever really let in on that secret. I trust him with it.
The limo arrives and I want to get out of here ASAP. We scramble, making sure we have all of our flowers, our purses, cigarettes and lighters too, of course.
The limo driver is very nice, asks if we need to make any stops along the way to the church. Everyone waits for me to say something because they all know I’m sad my grandfather won’t be at the wedding. If we weren’t already running late I would have stopped to see him, but we just can’t. I know he’s with me in spirit and I will make sure he sees all the pictures. Grandma Nowal will show him hers until I get back from the honeymoon.
OH-MY-GOD. WE’RE HERE. We’re really here.
We decide to stay in the limo while we watch people arrive. I see our Bevan and groomsman Ronny walk out of the church and walk up to the limo. I roll down the window, and they say “hi” and smile. They both tell me how beautiful I look. That makes me happy. I ask them how Jameson is and they assure me he is fine. I give Bevan my engagement ring because I want to put both rings on at the same time when we say our vows.
Before I know it, the limo driver is opening the door and all the girls are hauling out leaving me for last. The photographer wants me to stay in so he can get a picture of me getting out. The driver gives me his hand and assists me and my huge dress. My dad is waiting right by for me. I love my dad. This is totally not his thing, and it’s not mine either, so at least we have each other for this part, being the center of attention.
Before I can even move or say anything the photographer puts his camera down and says, “Oh no!”
What? What’s wrong? I’m looking around but I don’t see anything out of the ordinary.
He comes running over to me and moves my dress. “You have car grease on your dress from the limo.” He tells me.
“Oh-my-god! No, no, no! Son-of-a-bitch! Why is this happening to me?”
“It’s okay. It’s okay. Don’t worry. We can hide this in the pictures.” The photographer tells me.
“I haven’t even walked in the church yet and my dress is already ruined!” I shout, on the verge of tears.
My bridesmaids just stare at me in shock not knowing what to say or do. My dad looks at me and says, “Hillary, don’t worry. It’s not a lot. No one will know it’s there.”
“Yeah, but I know it’s there.”
I turn around to look at the open door of the limo to see where the grease could have come from. I can see the driver appears nervous like he is to blame. We can’t do anything now. It’s time to head in to the church.
We walk into the church and get lined up. I am panicking. I hate being the center of attention. I know my dad is nervous too. I don’t want to walk down the aisle. I can feel my chest getting tight. Everyone is going to be staring at me and I hate that feeling.
My dad interrupts my thoughts. “Ready, Poopsie Bear?” Dad asks.
Aw, my dad used to call me that all the time. He really knows how to pull at my heartstrings. I take a deep breath, and say, “Yes. Let’s go, but not too fast, okay?” I’m so nervous.
The doors open. I can feel everyone’s eyes burning a hole in the back of my head as we walk down the aisle.
I can see Jameson smiling at me. I’m almost there I keep saying to myself.