Xena Warrior Princess only with less leather and more taffeta, comes to the door and peeks out. It’s like she has a spidey sense that can detect the location of the bride and groom at all times. It’s kind of creepy actually.
She sticks one perfectly manicured hand out the door and folds her fingers in toward the church twice. I can almost hear her saying in her schoolmarm voice, “Come come!” And then she disappears back inside, no doubt off to swat some poor noisy child’s knuckles with a ruler.
While she might seem like the devil, holy hot damn can she plan a wedding! I bet even the flowers don’t have the nerve to drop a single petal until the festivities are over and she’s gone.
Yeah, it’s like that.
We all shuffle out of the limo, up the steps and into the vestibule. When I take my place at the front of the line and the noise on the other side of the doors quiets, the energy and excitement and significance of the day finally seeps in to take over everything else. Just like it should.
This is my best friend’s wedding day. She’s marrying the man of her dreams and getting the life she’s always hoped for, the life every little girl prays she’ll one day be blessed with.
I should wanna slap the lucky bitch.
But I feel nothing but love and happiness and elation for her. And I know it shines from the smile I turn on her when I look back between all the other perfectly-coiffed bridesmaids’ heads and meet her eyes. She nods. I nod. And, between us, an entire conversation happens in the blink of an eye.
I could cry.
But I won’t.
I’m not sure the salon used waterproof mascara, although they’d be complete imbeciles if they didn’t.
A door to the left opens. Rusty walks through and pauses. My heart stops beating right inside my chest. If I thought I looked hot…holy effin’ cow!
His tux is black, his shirt is white, and his cummerbund is the same beautiful blue as my dress. His hair is dark and looks freshly washed. His shoulders are impossibly wide and strong as ever. His waist is narrow and flows smoothly into his long legs.
But it’s his eyes that capture me. Just like always. They are fastened on mine when I meet them, after I finish appraising him. They’re brilliant blue. And very intense. It makes me wonder what’s going on behind them. Because something definitely is.
Letting the door fall shut behind him, he moves slowly toward me, not stopping until he is standing so close that my boobs almost brush his lapels.
I get short of breath when I see his eyes travel down to my cleavage and back up again. They run all over my face, taking in every detail, even flickering up to my hair and back again.
Finally, they settle on mine, making my nerves flare up. “Hello, handsome,” I say playfully, hoping I seem natural rather than insecure.
“You look…amazing,” he says softly. Sincerely.
The blood that stains my cheeks is genuine. I don’t blush easily, but something about his comment seems so heartfelt that my body reacts in a very physical way.
Just as I begin to search for something else to say, it registers that there’s music playing on the other side of the door. I take a deep breath, thankful for the notes that saved me from further embarrassment, and I tip my head toward the interior of the church. “Shall we?” Rusty nods and I smile, turning toward the sanctuary just as the ushers open the door.
Everything flows perfectly, just like we’d practiced at rehearsal. I do my best to enjoy my best friend’s perfect day without letting doubts and insecurities about Rusty tarnish it. It’s hard, but I keep my focus on the bride and groom, and that makes it easier.
When it comes time for the vows, Trick clears his throat and asks if he can say a few words. The minister nods and smiles. He doesn’t look the least bit surprised, which leads me to believe that he knew Trick would
She sticks one perfectly manicured hand out the door and folds her fingers in toward the church twice. I can almost hear her saying in her schoolmarm voice, “Come come!” And then she disappears back inside, no doubt off to swat some poor noisy child’s knuckles with a ruler.
While she might seem like the devil, holy hot damn can she plan a wedding! I bet even the flowers don’t have the nerve to drop a single petal until the festivities are over and she’s gone.
Yeah, it’s like that.
We all shuffle out of the limo, up the steps and into the vestibule. When I take my place at the front of the line and the noise on the other side of the doors quiets, the energy and excitement and significance of the day finally seeps in to take over everything else. Just like it should.
This is my best friend’s wedding day. She’s marrying the man of her dreams and getting the life she’s always hoped for, the life every little girl prays she’ll one day be blessed with.
I should wanna slap the lucky bitch.
But I feel nothing but love and happiness and elation for her. And I know it shines from the smile I turn on her when I look back between all the other perfectly-coiffed bridesmaids’ heads and meet her eyes. She nods. I nod. And, between us, an entire conversation happens in the blink of an eye.
I could cry.
But I won’t.
I’m not sure the salon used waterproof mascara, although they’d be complete imbeciles if they didn’t.
A door to the left opens. Rusty walks through and pauses. My heart stops beating right inside my chest. If I thought I looked hot…holy effin’ cow!
His tux is black, his shirt is white, and his cummerbund is the same beautiful blue as my dress. His hair is dark and looks freshly washed. His shoulders are impossibly wide and strong as ever. His waist is narrow and flows smoothly into his long legs.
But it’s his eyes that capture me. Just like always. They are fastened on mine when I meet them, after I finish appraising him. They’re brilliant blue. And very intense. It makes me wonder what’s going on behind them. Because something definitely is.
Letting the door fall shut behind him, he moves slowly toward me, not stopping until he is standing so close that my boobs almost brush his lapels.
I get short of breath when I see his eyes travel down to my cleavage and back up again. They run all over my face, taking in every detail, even flickering up to my hair and back again.
Finally, they settle on mine, making my nerves flare up. “Hello, handsome,” I say playfully, hoping I seem natural rather than insecure.
“You look…amazing,” he says softly. Sincerely.
The blood that stains my cheeks is genuine. I don’t blush easily, but something about his comment seems so heartfelt that my body reacts in a very physical way.
Just as I begin to search for something else to say, it registers that there’s music playing on the other side of the door. I take a deep breath, thankful for the notes that saved me from further embarrassment, and I tip my head toward the interior of the church. “Shall we?” Rusty nods and I smile, turning toward the sanctuary just as the ushers open the door.
Everything flows perfectly, just like we’d practiced at rehearsal. I do my best to enjoy my best friend’s perfect day without letting doubts and insecurities about Rusty tarnish it. It’s hard, but I keep my focus on the bride and groom, and that makes it easier.
When it comes time for the vows, Trick clears his throat and asks if he can say a few words. The minister nods and smiles. He doesn’t look the least bit surprised, which leads me to believe that he knew Trick would
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