Mother of the Bride part five

A Chapter by SM Davis

My eyes crissed and my mouth crossed and once again the words "for the greater good" came to mind.

"Yes, of course we will be there. I can't eat the dinner, but we will be there before seven. Promise. See you then!"

I looked up, sweat breaking above my brow, and once again I said, we have to go to the rehearsal dinner. The look on his face shone everything that had crossed my mind and then some. I looked his way and said, "One more time for our daughter."

Yes, the woman at whom he stared said those words. The same woman who had not two days ago said "Screw it. She's getting married, and I'm ok with that..." now ran frantically from the closet to the bed and back again looking for the appropriate thing to wear. Is it formal...casual...somewhere caught inbetween? I had no clue and knew better than I knew my name that to wear the wrong thing would be quite embarrassing both for me and for the bride to be. I think my husband knew better than to walk into the bedroom just then. His wife, yes, the one who has shirts on one end of the closet, pants on the other, and each coordinated by color now had everything in the closet piled high on the bed. Were he to enter he would not have been able to see me for all those clothes piled on the nicely made bed.

Finally, I decided to wear a pair of jeans and a nice sweater with heels. Sure to fit in anywhere...so I thought. We got in the car and through the laughter at how ridiculous I was acting, and the tears of anxiety that had washed every bit of make-up off of my face, somehow the outfit just didn't seem to matter anymore. Thankfully we had a bit of a drive across town, and I had an opportunity to gather myself before arriving to meet my nemesis. Having taken a deep breath, I stepped out of the car once we arrived and had decided to be calm, cool, and to roll with the punches regardless of what they were. My husband was there and gave his word that he would cushion any blows that may come my way. With a smile on my face, and all the mascara wiped clean from my cheeks, I, for the first time since the whole ordeal began, appeared calm and collected. Appearances can, however, be very deceiving. As I walked up the way to the front door, raised my hand to knock on the door, something calling itself reason took hold of me and I turned on a dime and told my husband I couldn't do it and wanted to go home. Just as I said the words, the front door swung open and there in front of me stood my soon to be in-laws, staring at my back.

There was no time to think or even retract the statement that surely they had heard. I felt a hand on my back much too small to be my husbands and as I turned I was greeted with a shoulder, a mouth full of hair and a shreak "I'M SO GLAD YOU'RE HERE! PLEASE COME IN!"

I felt completely embarrassed that I had acted in such a way, and as I stepped into their home, my daughter rushed to me and we hugged for a period no less than twelve hours. Well, yes, reasonably speaking it was probably for twelve seconds, but in that moment time stopped. The feeling that I had longed for filled every fiber of my being. My baby was in my arms, her cheek was against my lips, and the smell of her sweet shampoo was the best fragrance in the world to me. As she let go of me, my soon-to-be son-in-law stood and hugged me out of my shoes. He told me how good it was to see me and that he was very happy that we were there. In the brief amount of time that I had to quickly surveille the house, I did not see her father there. I asked if he was there and she said no. He had to babysit the little ones that night and was unable to make it to his daughter's wedding rehearsal.

No surprise there. Really.

Next thing I knew I was being whisked away by a woman whom I'd never met before that moment, and as we were making our way to the back yard I heard the words "Mother of the Bride coming through. Make way for the Mother of the Bride!" It almost sounded like "wide load - make way - WIDE LOAD!" Once we reached the destination of the beginning spot for the wedding march, I started laughing so hard I cried. The whole evening had been one big irony. All of that time I had spent wanting to look my best and there I stood in a mound of wet grass sinking to my ankles in mud. I thought to tell the whole story so that others may see the humor in the situation, but soundly decided against it. It may have served to only make them think that I really WAS crazy in the head. I stopped laughing and told the wedding planner that I was ready whenever she was.

The rest of the evening went off without a hitch. There were so many hugs, and tears, and wonderfully ridiculous moments that none of the anxiety lingered another second. We were making our way through the second run-through for the wedding march when I heard the words "NO ONE BUT NO ONE IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN THE MOTHER OF THE BRIDE! Well, except for the Bride herself..." The rest of the statement was lost inside a flurry of racing thoughts and pinches to make sure that I was really there.

It was really happening...my baby was getting married, and me? I was the MOTHER OF THE BRIDE!

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