I had been preparing for this day since February. Actually, since long before that. I mean, years ago, I planned and designed the graceful arch of the lattice underneath the deck at the back of the house just for this wedding. No, Ariel hadn't been engaged at the time. No, she hadn't even met Eric. But I knew the day would come when she would have a wedding, and I might as well start making the back yard lovely for that eventual event.
Fred, however, is not a planner, and waited until five hours before the wedding to decide that today we needed to upgrade the wiring in the basement. I shrank back from him and said incredulously, "You're kidding!" when he told me, on the way home, that he wanted to stop by Van's and get some parts to change out an electrical outlet. "You know how easily our electricity goes out in the basement," he began explaining. Oh yeah, I knew. Why, just two weeks earlier, I had gone down to get a Lean Cuisine spinach and mushroom pizza from the big freezer in the basement and found a trail of water across the floor and everything completely thawed in the freezer. Probably about $200 worth of food lost. But that didn't explain why NOW was the time to switch out an electrical plug. "You want the electricity to go out while the Pianist is playing, and Ariel is coming down the aisle?"
We stopped at Van's. "What color are the switch plates in the basement?" Fred asked me. "I have no idea," I replied shortly, deep in thought with my timeline and still quite miffed that he had waited until five hours before the ceremony to do this. "Are they white?" he asked. "I have no idea," I said again. His voice rose a bit. "Well, are they off-white? Or bone?" I looked at him and said seriously, "Fred. I. Don't. Know. It's the basement. Get whatever you want." He turned to go into the store, then said, "You think they might be white?" "I don't care! Get white!" "Geez!" I said to Jane, and she simply nodded in agreement.
He bought stainless steel.
I didn't care.
After we'd wolfed down sub sandwiches, Miss Jane went upstairs to make more tea, clean the hardwood floors, and do last minute spot cleaning.
Ariel and Belle began making their bouquets with the smaller zinnias that Godsend Flower Lady had designated for that purpose, and corsages with the most diminutive of the colorful flowers. I directed Eric and the Beast in the back yard. "Move that grill off the deck." "Don't forget Spooky's little cat house." "Those chairs hafta come down here in the front row." "Do we need to move any of these tiki torches?" "Where do y'all want the arch?" Fred, finished with the installation of the new outlet, came out to supervise the placement of the aisle runner. "Why'd y'all put the arch over there?" he asked. "I thought you wanted it in front of the greenery." "The whole yard's green," I told him. "It looks great right there." He didn't think so. He fussed about the arch; he fussed about the aisle runner. He declared we didn't know what we were doing with it. "Gimme that thing," he said shortly, grabbing the hammer and long pins he'd gotten from Van's to hold the runner in place. We all backed away and let him do things his way. We all show stress in different ways; mine shows in my waist and hips, my fingernails, and my harried expression; Fred's stress shows in...let's just call it...irritability.
Now for the flowers. I wheeled the hand truck around from its' little spot under Fred's workbench and told Eric and the Beast those largest pots were heavy. But these were manly men I was dealing with; they had no need of any sissified hand truck. They masterfully shouldered pot after pot and placed them per my directives. "Ummm..I think we want that one right here," I said. "That's not quite right...maybe turn it halfway around...there! Maybe...about four more inches...no, back just an inch...too much...there! Now you've got it!" "No, no, no...the other side has to show, the side that trails." "That's not quite centered...move it just a tad that way..." "That one's leaning; can we get something for a prop?" "No, you've got two yellows here; we need one yellow and two purples." I stood back and peered critically at the arrangements. "No, this one doesn't work. We'll have to move this one...over here...and this one...over here...and these two...can go here." "Oh! We forgot the rocks! For the rock garden," I sheepishly explained. I looked at their sweaty faces and relented. "We probably don't need the rock garden, do we?"
They made a quick getaway to the hotel in Clarksville.
I never knew I had drill sergeant blood flowing in my veins.
I set the deck table with a white tablecloth, tall floral arrangement, and the baskets of bird seed and fans. Perfect. The dining room table was set with my best white eyelet tablecloth, another tall vase of flowers, and laid with lilac cocktail napkins and the basket for the rolls. The Beast would whisk the silver wrapped giftcard box off the table and to the reception immediately following the ceremony.
I went out onto the front porch and took the last two flower arrangements: one small mason jar with leftover pale yellow sunflowers, which I put beside my new watering can fountain, and a vase of leftover mixed blossoms on the small table between the two white rocking chairs.
Everything looked lovely. The girls had retreated into Ariel's bedroom to get ready. Miss Jane was ready. The Pianist arrived and Fred, still wearing his faded, torn, paint-splattered work clothes, whisked him away upstairs to the music room, "to lay down a piano track on this new song I wrote," he explained. "Fred, it's already after 4:00!" I panicked. "This won't take ten minutes," he assured me.
He finally emerged, ready to shower and change, with less than twenty minutes til the ceremony.
I rushed around, brushng my hair, applying minimal makeup, and getting into my new dress. Ariel and Fred had agreed that the black and white polka dotted was their favorite, and, at the time, so did I. Now, looking at the photos and the video, I wish I'd gone with the black dressier outfit. It had long sleeves, which would have hidden my huge cellulite-y upper arms and elbows. Too late now.
Things started hopping. I set out the whipped butter and strawberry butter I'd made the day before. Pans of rolls went into the ovens and I filled the huge white cloth-draped basket with the big soft yeasty creations. The phone rang, and I, busy with the rolls, let the answering machine get it. "Uh, Fred and Ethel, this is Cousin Pearl. Uh, gimme a call." A moment later, my cell phone rang. Cousin Pearl. "Hi Pearl," I said quickly. "I'm sorry I didn't answer the house phone, but I was just too busy to talk." Now, any normal person would have taken this very broad hint and said, "Oh, of course, I'm so sorry. I'll see you shortly." But not Pearl. "Oh, reallllly?" she said, in a tone that clearly said she'd had no idea I wasn't just sitting in the recliner with my feet up. "I bet Ariel looks beauuuutiful, don't she? Don't she? Awwww, I bet everything's beauuuutiful, ain't it? Ain't it? Hey, you know what..." At this point, the doorbell rang, and I had to cut her off. "Pearl, I'm sorry, but people are arriving, and I'm gonna hafta go." "Oh, okay," she said. "Well, I just wanted to tell y'all that I made some ribbons at work for Ariel to give out as favors. They're purrrrty. Ya know? I put their names and the date on 'em, ya know, and there's a real purty poem on 'em. You'll see 'em." "Okay, thanks," I said, and hung up. Favors? You're calling me NOW to tell me you made some favors?
She and Fred certainly share the same last-minute gene.
I peeked in on Ariel and Belle as often as possible, and took a few pictures. The doorbell rang continuously. The photographers arrived and disappeared into Ariel's bedroom. Eric and the Beast returned and retreated into the basement with the officiant. The best man showed up. The Pianist consulted with me about the playlist. Bubba and Mrs. Bubba were the first guests. "Is there anything we can do?" Mrs. Bubba asked me. "Yes," I said, suddenly remembering that we hadn't tied the white tulle bows and the little stick figure bride and groom onto the arch. Thank goodness they took care of those details.
Fred and I had put together a slideshow presentation of Ariel and Eric, from birth to present, complete with music, and had it playing continuously on the living room tv. Fred was the technical brain behind the project and I had creative control. The video was twelve minutes long, beginning with newborn photos, and had both touching and amusing moments. We started with the song, Baby Mine, from Dumbo, and ended with an old Beatles song, I Will, both sung by Alison Krause. Beautiful versions. In between, we segued into When You Wish Upon a Star and What a Wonderful World. I had set a box of Kleenex on the coffee table, as I had boohooed many times myself while creating it. It was a big hit with our guests.
Prince Charming and Cinderella arrived just in the nick of time and disappeared into his old bedroom to change from their work clothes. Charming had been teaching at band camp all day and Cindy had taken off early from her brand new job as a chemist. Eric's family came in and I was introduced to his younger (OHMYGODCUTE) brothers. Wendy had color coordinated her entire family's wardrobe, and they looked terrific. More guests arrived. Pearl, Granny, and Big Jethro came in, and Pearl immediately cornered me. "Here's them ribbons," she said, handing me a bundle of golden edged satin bookmarks. They were really very pretty, but I had no idea what to do with them at this late date. I told her I would give them to Ariel as soon as possible. "Hey, I brung some pitchers of my grandkids," she started, reaching into her purse and withdrawing a bulging album. It was at this point that Fred stepped out of our bedroom, and I called to him. "Fred, come here and look at these pictures Pearl's got!"
Whew. Close call.
The time was 4:53. I shooed everybody out into the back yard, where the Pianist was playing underneath the towering sycamores. We were ready.
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