“Noelle, I think you need to give your father some space,” she says, getting straight to the point as always. “I’m not sure all these calls are doing any good.”
“But what else am I supposed to do? I can’t just not do anything. I can’t just give up.”
I love both my parents, but I am a daddy’s girl through and through. I couldn’t imagine not being able to call my dad when I had a problem come up at school or at work. I trust his judgment, and his opinion matters so much to me. I just want a chance to be able to explain things properly. Then he’d understand, I’m sure of it. Plus with all this wedding planning, I’m thinking a lot about how my dad is supposed to give me away. I don’t want to walk down the aisle alone.
“Your dad is a stubborn man Noelle. That’s one thing you got from him too. When he decides on something, that’s that. Nobody, not even me, can change his mind until he is ready to. You’re always both so sure of yourselves. It made him a great soldier, and it’s made you into such a strong woman, but in times like these, it’s a big pain in the butt.”
I throw down the wedding magazine I bought when I went grocery shopping this afternoon.
“But if you can just convince him to listen I know-”
“See, that’s just what I’m talking about,” my mom said wryly. “But Noelle, you just need to give him time. Your father loves you so much. So, so much. He just needs his time to figure it out and come to terms with it in his head and he’ll come around. You’ll see.”
I sigh. She has a point. It was difficult, but if this was the best way, so be it. I just hope that my dad will come around in time to walk me down the aisle. In the meantime, I still have my mom in my corner at least. I know she’ll keep trying to work on him for me.
“So tell me Noelle: what sort of things have you got planned for your wedding so far?”
I tell her that so far we’d tentatively picked out a location (a ski lodge in Andrew’s favorite national park), a date (late March, when the weather won’t be too hot or too cold), and the music (Andrew’s army buddy has a band). It’s a start, but there’s a lot to go through, and I could really use her help. Luckily my mom is a natural at planning big events. She was head of the PTA when I was a kid.
“Let’s go look at dresses,” she says. “Not only is it fun, but it’s going to be the centerpiece of your theme. Once we’ve got that chosen, I’m sure the rest of it will fall into place. How many bridesmaids have you got?”
To be honest, I didn’t have many. There is Lana, but once I’d dropped the sorority I was in, I lost a lot of my so-called friends too. That was fine by me. Aside from drinking, we didn’t have much in common. I had a few high school friends, but I’d lost touch with most of them. There was Sarah I suppose.
“I haven’t asked anyone yet,” I opt to say. “But we could just go and look. See what’s out there first.”
“Sounds good,” my mom says. “I’ll make an appointment for us for Friday morning then. You don’t have class right?”
“Right. I’ll see you then.”
I hang up and sigh. A wedding is supposed to be a happy event, but this was turning out to be just the opposite. Hopefully I’d feel a bit more optimistic after I see my mom.
**********
The week gets worse. I come down sick with a stomach bug and I spend most of my day sleeping when I’m not at school or at work. I probably should go to the doctor, but it’s just such a hassle to call, and then I would have to spend hours waiting in the room with other sick people. Then he’d probably send me home with a bottle of Tylenol anyways. No thanks. And then Andrew has a work emergency that has him flying to California for a few days too. By the time Friday rolls around, I almost want to cancel on my mom and spend my whole day at home eating a carton of ice cream. But I don’t because I want to know if my dad has softened up yet. I get up early to take a long shower, then put on a strapless bra and some comfy clothes. I tuck a pair of heels into my purse just in case, and out I go.
We meet outside of the bridal shop. She has a venti Starbucks cup in her hand, but the idea of coffee makes my stomach churn. I shouldn’t have skipped breakfast this morning, but everything sounded completely unappealing. She comes in for a hug, but I stop her.
“I’m sick mom,” I say. “You better not get too close.”
She frowns.
“Is that why you’re looking so sallow?” she asks. “Maybe we should reschedule.”
“No,” I say shaking my head. “I’ve just finished my midterms. Now’s the best time to do it before I get swamped with schoolwork again. And it’ll be one less thing to worry about.”