The Big Day: Part 1 - Preparations (sequel to "Revelations")

JULIE: Today's the day I change, I thought as she lay in bed. The woman I am this morning won't be the same woman tonight. My years of being unmarried end today. The same will be true for Deborah.

I wonder if she's thinking the same things as I am. Maybe not. She's probably wishing that her eldest sister Mara were still alive. But Mara had died last Christmas Eve and it was now mid-June, almost six months later. How different their house and bakery must feel after Mara's death. That emptiness that will never be refilled completely, not even after the wedding today.

I still remember that first day at the Polychrome Pantry. Just Julie and me because Mom was with Deborah's sister Rachel at the Two Sisters Bakery. It seemed odd to be there at seven in the morning instead of at the Pantry. As if I'd gone to the wrong place. But then Julie saw me enter. She smiled, came over to me and gave me a big hug.

“I'm glad you're here,” Julie told me. “It's felt so strange without Mom here. Now it feels a little more normal.”

And with that, she quickly showed me where everything was. A quick squeeze of her hand in mine and the work day began. There was already a line of customers waiting for the front door to unlock and Julie to turn the “CLOSED” sign around to the “OPEN” side. As the morning passed, I was introduced to each customer, some of whom I'd met over the years at the Bakery, but the rest were complete strangers to me. A few hours later and I began to feel more comfortable and the surroundings felt more familiar. When I took a lunch break, it was just Julie at the front counter. Then she took a lunch break and it was just me at the front counter. At the end of the day, I felt worn out, as if I'd spent the day at the Bakery instead of the Pantry.

“There now,” Julie told me as we counted the money in the two cash registers and checked the receipts to make sure we hadn't missed any. “That much should be familiar from the Bakery.”

I nodded.

“Just think,” she went on. “In another month, you'll feel just as comfortable here as you did at the Bakery.”

“And several months after that, we're getting married,” I said.

“Those months will fly past quickly enough,” Julie said and briefly looked dazed. “I still can't believe it. Married.”

“To each other,” I said.

“It feels more like a dream than reality,” she said. “Any regrets?”

I shook my head, then paused. “Only that Mara can't be here to see us working together and then married next June. Sometimes I'd glance around, thinking I'd heard her voice, only to realize that she'd never been here and would never be here in the future.”

Julie put her arms around me and I put mine around her. She gave me a kiss on the lips and said, “I bet, wherever she is now, she's aware of what we're doing and couldn't be more proud of us. Keeping both bakeries going instead of consolidating them into just one bakery. Kind of like when Dad passed away. It was a little difficult adjusting at first, but then it began feeling normal with just Mom and me here. I thought everything was fine and I wasn't missing anything in my life except for Dad. Until Mama Lorenzo introduced us to each other at her Italian restaurant.”

“You did look momentarily surprised when we first met,” I said.

She nodded. “I remember that, too. As well as going to Joplin Park afterward. I'd never had much luck dating guys, but now I was with a girl. A girl I was beginning to fall for and who seemed to feel the same for me. It didn't even seem that rushed when we got engaged at the park.”

“I couldn't believe that anyone would want to spend the rest of their life with me,” I said. “But now you will. How lucky I am.”

“Likewise,” Julie said. She smiled, partly to herself it seemed. “Want to go back to Mama Lorenzo's restaurant for dinner? My treat.”

“As long as I can treat you the next time,” I said. The business bank account was joint, so it didn't really matter who treated who.

“Deal,” she said.

Time had definitely flown since that first day at the Pantry. How could it possibly be mid-June so soon? It was as if each day was only a few hours long, instead of twenty-four.

“Julie?” a voice broke into her thoughts. “Earth to Julie.”

I blinked a few times and then looked at Mom. “Sorry. Just remembering meeting Julie for the first time, our engagement, and my first day at the Pantry. And today we're going to be married to each other later this morning. It seems so surreal.”

“I can always pinch you and prove to you that it's all real,” Mom offered with a grin.

I shook my head. “No thanks.”

“And if you're nervous, rest assured that most brides have been nervous on their wedding day,” she went on. “I was.”

I tried not to stare at her. “You were?”

Mom nodded. “Your father wasn't the choice my parents would've chosen. But thankfully they let me choose the man who I wanted to marry instead of insisting on someone else.” She smiled to herself. “They eventually came to love him almost as much as I did.”

“I wonder what they would've thought if you'd chosen a woman instead of a man,” I said.

“Surprised, probably, since I've never been attracted to any woman,” she said. “But if I had been, it's possible that they would've fussed at first, tried to argue me out of it, and then finally accepting it. Like with me, they just wanted their daughter to be happy, no matter who I chose.”

I wasn't so sure about that. But maybe they had been that tolerant more than twenty years ago. After all, Dandridge wasn't exactly known for being antiquated when it came to marriage customs.

Still, this was the first known same-gender wedding as far as Dandridge's historical records were concerned. With any luck, though, maybe anyone opposed to it wouldn't be there. Except for those had been there when Deborah proposed to me last Christmas Eve, hopefully no one else -- especially anyone from any media company -- knew about it. And if they did? Could we relocate and/or reschedule the wedding, even at the last minute? Probably, but I really hoped we wouldn't have to.

“If only I could call Deborah and see how she's handling her end of things,” I said.

Mom shook her head. “Since there is no groom, both brides are forbidden from seeing each other until they meet at the wedding location. Be patient, Julie. Before you know it, it'll all be over. You'll be happily married to each other.”

I sighed. “I know, I know. I'll try. But don't expect any miracles.”

“I only expect you to do your best,” she said. “I would never ask for perfection or -- as you put it -- any miracles.”

“Thanks, Mom,” I said.

“You're welcome,” she said.

I looked at myself in the full-length mirror in Mom's bedroom. It was hard to believe that the bride with long blond hair in her long white wedding dress was actually me. She looked far more beautiful than I ever had in past mornings, when I'd looked in the bathroom mirror. Maybe there was some magic in effect today. The magic of marriage. Deborah probably looks amazing in her wedding dress.

“That can't possibly be me in the mirror,” I said.

“It is, and, so I've read, your grandmother looked just as beautiful in the same wedding dress on her wedding day,” Mom said. “I'll show you a photograph of her after her wedding later today. Maybe then you'll believe me.”

Grandma was married about twenty-five years before I was born. I tried not to imagine the hairstyle she chose to have on her wedding day.

“I believe you,” I said. “I guess I'm just nervous.”

“Which is every bride's right,” Mom said. “I was nervous, too. But everything turned out well. Even though it was overcast in the morning, a bit of blue sky could be seen when your father and I exchanged vows. Once the ceremony ended, rain clouds covered the sky and it rained and rained and rained. I don't think any of us were dry when we reached the reception location. If only I'd thought to bring an umbrella along.”

“Should I bring one?” I asked.

“Might not be a bad idea,” she said.

Along with the weather, I had one other minor worry: I could only hope that the wedding photographer wouldn't be late.

The clock on the bedroom wall said it was only a little after 9 a.m. Noon felt like forever.

Oh, how I wish I was with you right now, Deborah, I thought. Why do I have to wait so long before we're together again? Because it's traditional. Maybe we should've eloped instead.

“Stay still,” Mom told me. “I have to alter the dress a little so that it fits you better. You're taller and a little more chesty than my mother was. Unless you'd rather the dress was too tight on you?”

I shook my head and stayed as still as I could.

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DEBORAH: My older sister -- once my middle sister, but not since last Christmas Eve -- Rachel had chosen her own bedroom (apparently my bedroom wouldn't do). She had everything she needed here, in case the wedding dress didn't fit me just right. After that, the hairstyling, and then the makeup. Oh good grief, why did this day have to have all these extra headaches? What was wrong with shirt, jeans, and sandals? Because no bride in her right mind would wear such things on her wedding day, as Rachel would say. Besides, the wedding dress had been Mother's. And, as I discovered when I put it on with Rachel's help, it wasn't the right size. Close, but not close enough. Rachel made the alterations while I tried to stay still. The giggles from nervousness didn't help.

“Keep still, Deborah,” Rachel told me. “Unless you want me to prick you every time with my sewing needle?”

I shook my head. “At least this will probably be the only day in my life when I have to be dressed so formally. I can't wait to get back into something more casual and comfortable. I bet Julie feels the same.”

“Or she might not mind the extra layer of formality today,” she said. “A wedding only happens once in your life.”

“Unless you're a Hollywood celebrity who is getting married for the fifth or sixth time like Elizabeth Taylor did,” I said.

“We've never had a divorce in our family before today,” Rachel said, “and I don't intend that there will be one in the future. A wedding dress is a small price to pay for a lifetime of happiness with Julie.”

True. “All right,” I said. “But promise me that later today we can both change out of our wedding dresses and into something more casual.”

“Maybe after the reception,” she said.

“Promise?” I asked.

“No promises,” Rachel said. “The reception might last awhile before you can both escape and head off on your honeymoon. Maybe until midnight.”

“Until when?” I asked, hoping I didn't sound horrified.

“You never know,” she said. “Stop moving around. I'm not done yet. You can stare at yourself in the mirror all you want afterward.”

“After the wedding or after your alterations?” I asked.

“My alterations,” Rachel said.

As she continued, I did glance as best I could at the full-length mirror in her bedroom. A tall young woman with long dark-red hair stood there, glancing back at me. That can't be me, I thought. But maybe it was.

I'd never had much of a positive opinion of my appearance in the past. Maybe that's why the reflection in the mirror seemed like it belonged to someone else. If I looked this beautiful all the time, why didn't I notice before?

We both heard the ringtone of “Songbird” by Fleetwood Mac. It repeated the first dozen or so notes of the song a second time. Rachel softly swore and stopped her alterations just long enough to answer it.

“Hello?” she said into the phone. “I'm a little busy right now --. Yes, all right. You'll be a little early, but we might be a little early, too. No, I haven't heard from the other bride and her mother. Wedding day tradition.” She looked out the nearest bedroom window. “Sky looks all right for now. I hope it doesn't rain. Bring an umbrella, just in case. See you at Joplin Park. Bye.”

Rachel returned to me.

“Who was it?” I asked.

“The wedding photographer,” she said. “He's trying to avoid being late. He wants to take some pre-wedding photos as well as wedding photos and post-wedding photos.”

“Plenty of beautiful scenery for photo backgrounds,” I said.

“And two beautiful brides,” Rachel said. “Don't forget about them. After all, that's what this entire day is about.”

I nodded. “Are you done yet?”

“Almost,” she said, and grabbed me around the waist. “I'd be done sooner if you didn't move around so much. Stare at the mirror after I'm done. And then we'll have to leave for the park.”

“I wish Mara could be with us today,” I said.

“Maybe she is,” Rachel said. “Angels aren't always visible to mortals like us.”

I imagined Mara as an angel. “No, but I bet that she's the most beautiful angel in heaven.”

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PRIEST: I would've preferred having the wedding ceremony indoors. Just in case there would be any bad weather. But Joplin Park is certainly beautiful this time of year. After today's wedding, I should ask the Abbot if I could do some of my daily prayers here at the park. I do feel closer to God here than inside the church, but the Abbot would probably frown at me if I told him so. Why can't a church's interior be as beautiful as the outdoors? After all, it's all part of God's Creation. But, as I've learned in the past, one cannot argue with one's Abbot. One needs to learn to keep silent when there is any chance of disagreement. Brother Walter has always been receptive, even when he doesn't agree. Perhaps I can discuss park vs. church interior with him after the wedding.

I watched as one large, heavy, block-shaped vehicle arrived and parked nearby. A man exited it and when he removed some equipment from its rear area, I realized that this must be the wedding photographer. He glanced over at me and then headed for me.

“Father Solomon?” he asked.

He seemed to think of shaking hands, but his camera equipment made that impossible.

I nodded. “And you are?”

“Bernie Warchowski,” he said.

Ah. If I remembered the little Polish I'd learned while serving God in a monastery in southern Poland, his ancestors probably came from Warsaw, the Polish capital.

“Pleased to meet you,” I said.

“Likewise,” he said.

“Do you need any help?” I asked.

He shook his head. “I just need some time and space to set things up for the pre-wedding photos.”

“If you do need any help,” I said, “just ask and I will be glad to assist.”

“Understood,” he said and headed for the gazebo.

Not long after, the first bride's car arrived. She was already wearing her wedding dress. Her sister did her best to keep the dress' train from touching any wet and/or dirty ground as well as keeping it from catching on anything that might tear it. The dress looked like something my parents or grandparents would've worn. Like the photographer, they headed first to where I stood.

And then the second bride's car arrived. Her dress was almost as fancy as the first bride's dress was. An older woman accompanied her.

The five of us stood there, patiently waiting. Guests -- or so they seemed to be -- arrived soon afterward. Followed by, sadly to me, vehicles belonging to those who were decidedly not guests. They took handmade and handwritten signs from the trunks of their vehicles. I was rather hoping that they would wait until afterward to come here, but apparently not.

The messages on the signs ranged from polite if opposing all the way to rude. I will report the more polite ones here. You probably can guess what the rude ones said, anyway. “NO GAY MARRIAGES IN DANDRIDGE!” one sign said. Another said, “LESBIANS ARE EVIL! BAN GAY MARRIAGES!”

They kept their distance, thankfully, but that didn't lessen their effect on those of us who were here for the wedding ceremony. Hopefully they would stop shouting during it. As a servant of God, one must sometimes tolerate the intolerable (but not evil).

The wedding photographer joined us and said, “I'll try to keep them out of the photos, if I can.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“Could we include you in some of the photos?” he asked.

“You may,” I said. “But remember that this is their special day, not mine.”

“Got it,” he said. “Let's begin with a photo next to those flowering bushes.”