Who would have thought the day that is supposed to be one of the happiest of your entire lifetime, could be so stressful. Don’t get me wrong, I’m excited of course. Besides the intimidated looks of my mother in law, small children of distant cousins whose names I always mixed up, or the dozen strangers I’ve been introduced to at MY wedding, everything’s running smoothly.
As it’s about, oh I don’t know anymore, an hour before I’m supposed to walk down the aisle and promise my life to someone, I’m having my hair teased at and eyelids jabbed with brushes. In a small room in a building outside the venue, I’m getting heat flashes at thirty-one. The makeup artist, hair stylist, and my mom along with some unfamiliar faces are all taking laps around my chair staring intently at every detail.
“Caroline! Sit still! you don’t want this smearing!”
I don’t reply. I kind of let the stylists do what they want as I remain on autopilot, letting things happen as they are. My anxiety creeps through my skin under the unbreathable dress, I start itching at my palms.
I need a drink. I need something. I knew there had to be some bartender around. Anything to calm my nerves, despite the only thing I have to do in an hour is walk in a straight line, should be easy enough.
“Carol, I’m going to go say hello to uncle Daryl. Stay here, don’t stain the dress! And stay away from the cheese platter.”
“Okay ma, stay off the wine coolers I’m going to need them later.”
She shushed me and hurried away to where I know she wouldn’t notice if I called in a drink, or two. Mom was swimming in a swarm of people away from where I was sitting, talking to relatives who SHE invited. I didn’t budge, I wanted to make sure she was as happy as I am supposed to be.
For being fifty-eight, she didn’t look a day over forty. After the divorce with my dad three years ago, I would have suspected she would have found someone by now. Anytime I ask about it, she says, “Carol! Don’t ask about such things. I can figure it out on my own! No guys my age make me happy, anyways.” I have tried to sign her up for those cheesy dating apps filled with men she can categorize to her taste, but no luck. I’m lucky if I can even get her to open iMessage.
When my stylists are busy organizing brushes and fluffing my hair, I scan the room and pick up the cocktail menu on the coffee table to the side of me. I dialed the number and ordered one martini. I didn’t think much of it. Something to take off the edge. I could already feel my nerves relaxing. fifteen minutes later, a middle aged man with a smug look on his face came in with a tray, two waters, and my glorious martini. His name tag read “Devin” with a uniform of satin black and deep maroon read lacing and white bow tie. Not that I cared, but I remember my mother in law Sarah arguing,
“Everything must match Caroline! Everything! From the table cloths to the forks, to the seat cushions your guests will be sitting on!”
Guess it was kind of odd, my wedding color themes had been sky blue and a bit of green, for the “accents”. Doesn’t matter, the man had a martini sitting on his fancy tray that I was about to get.
“Mrs. Soon to be Caroline Christensen, here is the martini you ordered.”
I thanked Devin for my drink, sat back in my chair, and twisted the garnished lemon peel around the glass. After a loud sigh, I sipped at the martini and smiled at the ceiling and thought to myself, I can’t believe I'm doing this. I’m really doing it. Marrying someone. I was the last person who expected myself to actually “settle down”. Marriage? Kids? Crazy concepts that I definitely could not grasp until I met Stephen. Stephen is the love of my life, or whatever cliche you want to call it. He grounds me, he respects me, and the love between us is endless. I started to feel the tingling nerves and beads of sweat cool. I knew I could do this.
I decided to stand up and go take a look at the venue I was about to be married in. About twenty minutes out, I figured I had time. Only that when I stood up, my head went from feeling like a cinder block on my shoulders to an airy cloud. This martini had to be one of the best I’ve had in a long, long time.
Without tripping over my feet, I peek my head around the corner into the stuffed room, delighted I watched the people mesh into each other and colors swarm around everyone while music increasingly became louder. I didn’t make the mistake of stepping into the muddy mess, but something did not feel right. I passed a white mirror and peering into my soul. I was melting. My eyes were multiplying. I felt stuck, tearing myself away from the creature I just passed, people started turning into morphed humans, between the line of looking real and fantasy.
Strangers shaking hands and hugging, I look to my left and spot what seemed to be my fiancé. I squinted, gazed, and happened to make out the slim figure of my mother. I stuck one leg in front of the other to get a closer look, but the floor was sinking beneath me, before I could get a better look, my fiancé, Stephen Christensen, had his left hand on the right blushed cheek of my mother's face with his right on her waist, full blown making out. I blinked as hard as I could, trying to make sense of what I just witnessed. My mother and future husband, locking lips like lovers out of a cheesy Rom-Com at my wedding??
I stabilized my noodle ridden legs and used the mushy walls with swirling colors to get as far away as possible from that venue. I didn’t make it far before my maid of honor, Laura, grabbed me by both arms and dragged me to a chair. I knew it was her because I almost gagged from the perfume I told her not to buy but she insisted on wearing it every day because it was “designer.”
“Lauraaaaa.. What are you doing? What room is this? Am I married yet? Why are you so swirly?”
“Did you happen to see a bartender with a funny looking uniform earlier? Maybe by the name Devin?”
My ears perked up and I remembered the odd stranger bringing me my martini not long before the world flipped upside down.
“Yeah?? Why?”
“Guests have been sending back drinks he gives them. We have one of our girls, Evelyn, in the bathroom throwing up whatever he served. We think he has put something in the drinks, laced it or somethin'. God knows. Lets get you cleaned up. You gotta look presentable in about ten minutes.”
Her voice echoed the room and I agreed. I could barely move right so I let her do the maneuvering. My mind was stuck on what I witnessed.
“Lauraa.. Did you see my mom and Stephen making out in the venue? Like what the fuck what even was that?”
Laura giggled and then snorted her loud laugh. I punched her arm and squinted my brows. I didn't think this was funny. At all.
“Caroline, you're tripping right now, your mom was looking for White Claw while Stephen was talking to his best man on how to read his vows. Don’t worry hun, nothing of the sort happened. Here, drink some water.”
With only a bit of relief I felt my anxiety soaring higher and higher. Cringing at the looks of my mom and Stephen going at it, shit felt like I was in some adult film gone wrong, and I was the conflict between a love of a mother and daughters husband relationship. My wedding feels like a joke.
Laura wiped my smudged mascara and untangled my hair then propped me up. Mother came around the corner, “Carol!! It’s time! Lets go sweetie, you don’t want to be late to your own wedding, or someone might come by and swipe your handsome husband right under your feet!” She was all giddy in her mini dress and grabbed my arm, As we neared the large doors of the venue, the faint wedding music was playing and twisted in my mind.
“Caroline you won’t believe it either, I’ve met someone. I don't know how serious it is, but what a coincidence! On your wedding day, I’ve fallen in love with someone of my own. It's a surprise, you know him so well I know you two are going to be so happy.”
I didn’t have the chance to question her further, I caught my tongue and put a fake smile on my face trying to make sense of everything that happened while the chauffeur opened the fancy wedding venue doors. What alternate universe am I in anyways?
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