The Future Mrs. Edwards

The room was peacefully quiet. She stood in front of a mirror, admiring herself. She was full of so much love. She never believed for a second she would be standing here, just moments away from marrying the man of her dreams. They were both in their early 40s and both had resolved that their chance for happiness had passed, but here they were, just moments from vows. Erica and Charles met less than a year ago, but they were more connected in ways that could not be described and their love was intense. They were so connected, they could feel each other’s emotions from miles away and they even shared an occasional dream at night. She didn’t know how she’d ever live without him. This was indeed the happiest moment of her life and she looked forward to becoming Mrs. Edwards.

           Erica’s best friend, Marci stood nearby. Marci was adjusting the ruffles in Erica’s train, making sure her hair was laying just right, and checking other details of her appearance.

           “How do I look?” Erica asked.

           “Like an angel fell out of heaven,” she responded.

           “Oh stop!”

           “It’s true!” Marci exclaimed and gave Erica one last hug.

           “I want to go talk to him one last time before the ceremony,” Erica told Marci.

           “I would. Just to double check that he’s still on board,” Marci said with a snicker.

           Erica felt that. Charles had never been in a serious relationship before and it was obvious marriage was a very big step for him. There had been moments during their engagement when Erica wondered if he meant to ask for her hand. Not that he wasn’t the marrying type, but he had been single for so long that it was all he was accustomed to. Erica wanted nothing more than for him to be happy. Even if that meant without her. He had told her he wanted a wife and kids, but had also expressed concern for losing all the independence and freedom associated with being a bachelor.

           “Pfft… you don’t think he’ll ‘run-a-way-groom’ on me, do you?” A small look of panic crossed Marci’s face as Erica spoke both ladies’ fears.

           Erica bolted to the door, “I’ll be right back. I know he loves me, but I had better go make sure he’s handling all this alright.”

           Marci followed Erica’s quick steps down the hall to Charles’ dressing room. Erica leaned in with both hands on the closed door and placed her ear against the door. She could hear little murmurs of 2 people talking. It wasn’t hard to recognize that one of the voices was female. The voice sounded familiar, but she couldn’t tell for sure. Figuring it was Charles’ mom, Erica put her left hand onto the door knob, turned it and pushed the door open with her right hand.

           “Charles?” Erica called out.

           No answer. Erica stepped into the room. Her long black strapless ball gown swishing against her legs. The room fell dead silent as she crossed the small sitting room toward the bedroom where Charles should have been dressing.

           Charles was standing next to the bed in a full embrace with a woman that looked a lot like her mother. They were kissing passionately. Full mouth and hands exploring each other’s bodies.

A million thoughts began to run through Erica’s mind. Her heart was pounding and she began to sweat. She could feel her legs giving out as her heart sank into the pit of her stomach.

“MOM?!” Erica screamed with utter shock as her world faded to black and she fell backward into Marci’s arms.

“Erica? Erica? Hey, Erica, can you hear me?” Erica could hear Marci summoning her back to reality.

“Wha…wha.. what happened?” Erica asked Marci.

“You passed out.”

“Wha… why…” Then Erica bolted up when the memory of what she had seen came screeching back at her. Searching the room, Erica saw Charles sitting next to the woman on the edge of the bed. They were holding hands. Erica’s blood began to boil, but as she approached, a thought came to her. Mom’s been dead for years… that can’t be my mom… if not mom, who is she? Erica wondered. Erica’s memories quickly recounted the terrible details of the day she lost her mother to cancer. There was no way this woman was her mom. Erica pondered that she may have been hallucinating.

Erica’s pace slowed as she cautiously crept toward them. Then the woman spoke, “Erica?” That voice. Erica knew that voice. As Erica came within mere feet of them, the woman stood and turned to face her.

Erica’s left hand went to her mouth in a gasp. It was like she was looking in a mirror again. A 20 year old older version of her eyes stared back at her.

“What… the…” Erica questioned. “You’re… ummm…”

“Yes, I am YOU,” the woman replied. Erica felt the world begin to spin again. No wonder she thought it was her mother. Erica was, after all, a spitting image of her. “Why don’t you sit down?” she said as she grabbed Erica’s arm and helped her to sit on the bed next to Charles.

“What is going on?” Erica asked Charles.

Older Erica responded, “He didn’t go through with it.”

Erica gave Charles a sympathetic look and said, “I won’t force you into anything you are not ready for. I love you. I just want you to be happy.”

Before either could speak, older Erica continued, “We didn’t get married. I was never the same. Neither of us ever got married. I ran into Charles just now, in my time of course, and we talked for a while and reminisced. Turns out, we were still in love with each other. There was so much time lost that we could have been together. That’s when he showed me that he was still carrying my ring around with him everywhere he went. I slipped the ring on to my finger and, poof, I was transported here.”

As Erica sat, older Erica’s left hand came into view and a ring began to materialize out of thin air. Erica could see that it was the same ring about to be on her left hand. This was an unmistakable ring. Charles had custom designed it just for her. There was no other like it in the world. Erica looked at Charles.

“I’m good, let’s spend the rest of our lives together.” Charles said. They looked up at older Erica.

Mrs. Edwards smiled and disappeared.