The Wedding Morning

The Wedding Morning

As a little girl, Peg remembered standing beside her father at the bathroom sink, his lone face reflected in the square mirror. She watched as he  added a bit of water to his shaving mug and used the brush to whip up a soapy lather that he spread over  his ruddy checks, his neck and chin. The long fingers of his right hand wrapped around the handle of the straight edge razor; his left hand pulled the skin taunt, smoothing out the deep lines of his face. And then, with small quick strokes, the blade swiped through the soap and stubble, exposing a patch of smooth, clean-shaven skin. He rinsed and wiped the blade with a cloth and then repeated the strokes. One side of his face. Then the other. And finally, the long strokes up  his neck to his chin. 

I can do this, Peg thought, as she rubbed the bar of French-milled soap into a lather. How hard can this be? She spread the the foam onto one leg, then the other. Her hand began to shake as she lowered the blade to her shin. I have to do this, she told herself.  I have to do what Ellie told me about last night. About what all the girls do to get ready for their wedding night.

…Well,  for starters, you have to shave your legs. And you know about the honeymoon, right? Asked Ellie.

…Peg nodded slowly but then felt her head move from side to side.  No, she answered. Who’s supposed to tell me?

…Aw, Christ, Peg. You don’t know anything about the honeymoon and sex and what’s going to happen in that bedroom?

 …Another shake of the head.

Peg tightened the grip on the razor and made a small, slow swipe up the front of her shin. The dull edge nicked her skin and drew blood. 

. …Well, it’s gonna hurt but it doesn’t last long. Just close your eyes and start counting.

Peg quickened the swipes of the blade. More blood seeped through the soap. She turned on the faucet, wet a cloth and dabbed at the blood. 

…There might be some blood but that’s okay. And it’s messy. Is Mickey gonna use rubbers?

 The pipes rattled and groaned as water filled the porcelain basin. Peg rinsed the razor and started on the other leg. Small quick swipes, she thought. Small, quick.  The blade dragged and tore a piece of skin.

“Oh, shit,” Peg cried softly as she looked at the blood running down her shin. 

Her Aunt Kit called up from the bottom of the stairs. “Peg, you all right up there? Peggy! You hear me? What are you doing up there? You know what time it is? What day it is? You’re getting married in two hours.”

“I hear you, Kit. I hear you!”

“What’s wrong, Peg? You okay?”

“Well…no. I have a problem somehow. I’m bleeding.”

Peg listened as Kit began the slow climb up the narrow wooden steps. She heard her heavy sigh as she stopped halfway  to catch her breath. Please let her know what to do, she thought. How to help me. Please, God, don’t let her yell or worse…just stand there with her hands on her hips, her face a cold stare,  her thin lips yet another frown. 

Kit opened the door at the top of the landing and found Peg sitting on the toilet seat, bloodied towels wrapped around both legs. “Good God, Peg. What’s wrong? What have you done?” 

Peg looked at Kit and took a deep breath. One tear, then another rolled down her pale cheeks. “I shaved my legs.”

“You what?”

“I shaved my legs.”

“Whatever did you do that for?” Kit demanded. She slowly unwrapped the towels and looked at the multiple cuts on each leg. “Jesus, Mary and Saint Joseph, Peg. Why’d you go and do this? And why now? You’re getting ready to put on those silk stockings and that beautiful white satin wedding dress.”

Peg looked down at  her legs. Some cuts had stopped bleeding. A few deep, longer ones still bled rivulets down to her ankles. “Ellie told me to.”

“What? Your sister told you to do this? Whatever for? Why would she tell you to do a silly thing like this?”

“It’s not silly, Kit. She said I have to shave my legs. She said it’s what all the girls do for…” A sob escaped. And then another. 

“Do for what, Peg? What did Ellie tell you? For what?”

“For their …wedding night.” Her face felt hot like it used to feel in school when a nun would call on her for an answer she seldom knew. In the small bathroom where the radiator clanked and blasted non-stop, she shivered and wiped drops of sweat from her forehead.

Kit looked at the bloodied wash cloths and the razor in the basin. Her brother Daniel’s razor, dull and unused all these years since he moved out. How long ago now? “So your sister told you to use your Pa’s old straight edge?”

 Peg looked up and met Kit’s gaze. “No, not exactly. But I didn’t know what else to use. I don’t know about these things.  You’ve never told me anything. But Ellie told me a lot of things last night. About shaving my legs. And the honeymoon. And now look at me. At all these bloodied towels and that damn razor.  I’m a mess. I’m not ready to get married.”

“Okay, Peg, okay. Let’s just calm you down. Stop that crying or you’ll get red, puffy eyes.”

Kit studied the contents of the medicine cabinet, clinked through the bottles and tubes of unlabeled ointments  until she found a small white pencil-like stick. “You’re talking nonsense, Peg. You love Mickey and he loves you. You’ve been planning this wedding for months. The two of you want a life together. A family. Now let’s see what we can do about these cuts.”

“But Ellie said…”

“Never mind Ellie. I don’t know what that sister of yours told you but girls like you have been getting married since the beginning of time and this is the first I’ve heard about any problems on the wedding night.”

“But you’ve never been married. You don’t know,” Peg blurted.

“What I know is that this is a styptic  stick and I’m going to run it across those cuts and it’s going to sting. But the bleeding will stop and we can get some band-aids on them.”

Peg winced as the stick touched each cut. The bleeding stopped just like Kit said it would. “You’re right. You’re always right. I love Mickey and he loves me. And he would never do anything to hurt me. And Ellie wasn’t trying to scare me. She was just trying to help.”

Kit emptied the basin, smoothed down her apron  and threw the straight edge into the trash. “Now you just forget all this talk and concentrate on getting to that church on time. All those guests are waiting to see a radiant bride walk down the aisle.” She ran the cold water on a clean wash cloth and handed it to Peg. “Now let’s see what we can do about those pretty brown eyes.”