Wedding Roadtrip

Wedding Roadtrip

James Muir

Walking out to my mailbox on a Monday morning, I opened it and noticed the usual items—bills, magazine subscription offers, and free prepaid credit cards. One particular piece of mail that caught my attention. It was a cream colored envelope with a gold seal on the front. I went back inside my house, put the rest of the papers on the counter and sat down at the kitchen table to open the invitation. As I looked at the picture of the happy couple, I realized it was my high school friend, Max. The wedding was going to take place in Portland, Oregon. 

Turning the photo over, I read the address of where the wedding was going to be. The couple had chosen to tie the knot at the White Gables Estate, an event space that could host up to 250 people. Looking in the envelope to make sure I didn’t miss anything, I find a small piece of paper with a handwritten note on it. 

Can you please pick up Sara? She’s one of the bridesmaids that lives near you in Salt Lake City. Her phone number is 801-363-8574. Thanks, Max. 

That’s a random favor to ask. I’ve never met Sara in my entire life. On the other hand, I have been friends with Max since second grade, so what are friends for? I once covered for him in high school when he drove his dad’s car in the lake. His dad told him that we couldn’t hang out for a week. That punishment was a slap on the wrist compared to the sentence my parents gave me when they found out. I had to be their errand boy for an entire month. Whether it was changing my baby brother’s dirty diaper because my dad didn’t want to, or being a perfume sampler for my mom at the local department store. 

The wedding date was set for July 27^th which was two weeks from today. That didn’t leave me much time to buy a plane ticket. I hopped online to research roundtrip tickets from Salt Lake City to Portland. The cheapest was for $700. Looks like Sara I are going on a roadtrip to Portland. I pull my cellphone out of my pocket and dial her number. She answered after the third ring. 

“Hello,” she says.

“Hello, Sara, my name is Jack Simons. I’m a friend of Max Fellows. He asked me to pick you up and bring you to his and Elizabeth’s wedding on July 27^th. I know we haven't met but what do you say?”

“Well you are a good friend of Max. If he asked you to drive me to the wedding, I trust his judgement. When do you think we should leave?,” she asks. 

“I looked up how long it takes to drive to Portland. We’re staring down the barrel at 11 hours in a car. How about heading out there three days before the wedding?,” I ask. 

“That sounds like a plan,” she says. “I’ll see you Saturday morning.”

I spent the next week, shopping for supplies that we would need for the trip, finishing up some projects for work. My boss told me that everything would be fine and he hoped that I would enjoy my vacation. 

When I got home from work I grab luggage from the upstairs closet. I pack several pairs of shorts, t-shirts, and another clothes. Next, I head to the bathroom to collect my toothbrush, travel toothpaste, and mouthwash. Last but not least, I inspect my suit and decide to have it dry cleaned for the wedding. My mom taught me to dress to impress so it's very important to me that everything be as perfect as possible.

The following morning I drop my suit off at the dry cleaners and then do some last minute errands—shopping for medical supplies like bandages, disinfectant, and of course, gas for the car. After finishing the preparations, I go for a quick bite to eat and then head home. Before going to bed I set my alarm for seven o’clock.

Saturday morning, my alarm sounded right on time. Reaching over, I turn it off and get ready to pick up Sara. When I pull up to her house, she is waiting for me by the curb, all packed and ready to go. She was wearing jeans, a light pink t-shirt, a white hat, and shoes. I open the door and step out. 

“Nice to meet you, Sara,” I say. “Can I help you load your luggage in the car?”

“What a gentleman. Thank you. I promise they’re not too heavy.”

We put her things in the trunk. Then I held the door open for her as she got in. Portland, here we come. For the first hour we pass the time by playing the Slug Bug game. Sara won with a score of five. We spent the rest of the drive telling each other funny or important things that happened in our lives. 

“When Max and I were in high school, I took the blame for him driving his dad’s car in the lake. His parents said we couldn’t hang out for a month. I became an errand boy for mine. The task I did for my mom still haunts me to this day,” I say. 

“What did she have you do?,” she asks. 

“I was her perfume tester.”

“That must have been very humiliating for you. My parents scarred me too. When I was 16 and got my first car, they brought me a vanity plate with my childhood nickname on it.”

“What did it say?”

“Diva #1. I was a little bit of a prima donna growing up. I eventually grew out of it, but you know how nicknames can sometimes stick with you for life,” she says.

“I know exactly what you mean,” I say. “My middle name is Robert. So my nickname growing up was Rob Lob. Every summer my family went to Bear Lake with a group of friends from the neighborhood. One year I didn’t pack enough sunscreen and as a result, I turned as red as a lobster.”

“That’s endearing,” she says. “I like it.”

“Nobody has called me that in years, but all my friends know about it.”

Other topics we discussed were music, where we saw ourselves in five years, favorite books and movies, hobbies, and politics. We both felt that we were becoming good friends. 

After another half hour, we arrive in Portland and check in to a hotel near the wedding venue and go to our rooms to unpack. To kill time, we decided to take a self guided tour of the building. The interior was very elegant. Impressive paintings lined the walls. Several statues were placed in corners and large open areas. A large fountain sat near the entrance. 

The wedding took place the next day. At nine in the morning, I got ready and metSara in the hotel lobby and we drove over to the White Gables Estate. We walked in and were greeted by friends and family. The wedding planner was busy putting final touches on a flower covered arch the couple was going to stand under while delivering their vows. 

By 9:45 the wedding party is seated and classical music starts playing over the sound system. Sara and I put our cellphones on silent and prepare to join the rest of the bridesmaids and groomsmen at the front. The officiator walks to the front of the room and shakes all of our hands one by one. 

The flower girl and ring barer start making their way down the isle. When they finish, the wedding march starts playing and Elizabeth starts walking toward us. She and Max exchanged heartfelt vows and the officiator pronounced them husband and wife. 

Sara and I sit at the same table during the reception. We talk about how happy Max and Elizabeth looked and were excited to begin their lives together. We decide to exchange phone numbers and plan to go on a date.