The Wedding Party. Robyn Carr
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litigator; no one knew by her expression what she was thinking…and at that moment she was thinking she had just met a side of Dennis she had never before known.
“What are we toasting? New car? Vacation? Raise? Bonus?” Stephanie asked, taking a preliminary sip.
“At long last, Dennis and I have decided to make it official. We’re getting married.”
Stephanie stopped in mid gulp. She and Lois exchanged shocked looks and then said in unison, “Why?”
As toasts go, it wasn’t all Charlene had dreamed of. She much preferred the reaction she had gotten from Pam. Happy tears seemed more apropos.
“We felt it was time,” she said somewhat wearily.
They relented. “Oh. Well then, congratulations!”
“Yes, of course. How wonderful.”
Dennis raised a glass. “To new family ties,” he proposed.
“Hear, hear,” they intoned.
“Now, what have you made for brunch?” Lois wanted to know.
“Well, don’t fall over in excitement,” Charlene said.
Stephanie whispered to her grandmother, “I think she’s in need of a little more bride-to-be attention, Peaches.”
“But they always serve such lovely meals,” Lois protested.
“Come ahead, then,” Dennis said. “Come and sit—you’ll love this.”
It was true—Dennis and Charlene had gotten quite good at this sort of thing. It was not entirely insensitive of Lois to concern herself first with brunch and second with the upcoming nuptials. In their five years together, Charlene and Dennis had established a reputation for giving the best parties, with the most exquisite ambience and the most delectable food. They had a keen eye for putting the right guest list together, and whether the affair was large or small, elegant or casual, it was always polished. Perfect.
They sat Lois and Stephanie down and served them a wonderful brunch. Once their appetites were sated, they turned their attention to the prospect of a wedding. Charlene gave them the standard line, that it would be small, simple and soon, possibly in a few weeks.
“What do you mean, small wedding? What do you mean by small?” Stephanie wanted to know.
“Well, we’ve talked about a quick trip to Lake Tahoe,” Charlene said.
“Or, we could throw caution to the wind and go all the way to Las Vegas,” Dennis threw out.
Charlene looked askance at him. She thought his tone was a little edgy and suspected he was still miffed about the house issue.
“Most likely, we’ll go down to the courthouse, get it done and spend our time and money on a vacation later,” Charlene clarified.
“And deprive yourselves of guests?” Lois asked. “How completely unlike either one of you.”
“I have to admit, I’m pretty surprised,” Stephanie agreed. “I would have expected a rather lavish affair.”
“As in big, white wedding?” Charlene asked, frankly shocked.
“Oh, not as in big, white, virginal wedding,” she clarified. “Something that would fit your personal style more—which is almost never simple, small and soon. I’ve seen you plan a Christmas party for months, a Fourth of July barbecue for weeks. It’s so unlike you to just throw something together.”
“Well, that’s just the point!” Charlene said in frustration. “We want to get married and don’t have time for a big deal. It’s a little more complicated than a dinner party, you know.”
“Hardly. You can take as much or as little control as you like,” Lois declared.
“Peaches is right, Mom. These days you get a wedding planner.”
Charlene was a little slow to respond because she was watching her mother. It didn’t escape her notice that Lois seemed positively sharp as a tack today…and this pleased Charlene greatly. This was the mother she knew and, as it happened, took for granted.
“I can’t believe a planner eliminates all the work. Surely there’s still copious shopping, ordering, listing, planning…”
“As much as you want.” Stephanie shrugged. “Remember Jennifer Johnson, my sorority sister? She’s in med school and said all the time she could spare was a two-hour meeting every couple of weeks. Her mom and dad live in another state, so they couldn’t help. The solution? She had a meeting with the planner to talk about what she liked, made final selections that were brought to her and showed up to say ‘I do.”’ Stephanie popped a melon ball into her mouth.
“That couldn’t be done in a month.”
“Maybe not, but if all you want is a nice party, something you wouldn’t have to have a hall reserved for months in advance, you could have a very nice wedding with good food, music, flowers and lots of fun planned in two or three months. You could be a June bride.” She leaned over the small round table. “You’re not, you know, in the family way?” she whispered. Then giggled.
“She’s afraid I won’t make it,” Lois said.
“Mother! What an awful thing to say!”
“Aren’t you?”
“Peaches, that’s a little melodramatic, isn’t it?” Stephanie wanted to know.
“It’s true. She’s completely freaked out because I got a little turned around at the grocery store.”
Annoying though the direction of conversation was to Charlene, it was also endearing. That was her mom; she rarely spoke as you’d expect an eighty-year-old woman would. Freaked out, indeed!
“I heard it was very turned around,” Stephanie said, giving her grandmother a sidelong glance.
“It could have been very. Whatever. She’s afraid if she doesn’t get married quickly, I won’t even know I went to the wedding.”
“You are so irritating,” Charlene said to them both, but she managed a smile. At least Peaches had a sense of humor.
“I wouldn’t mind having guests,” Dennis said.
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