I knew the wedding was not going to happen on the beach as planned. I saw your anxiety mix into the darkening sky overhead. "It will still be beautiful," I said. "Rain is romantic! You're getting married." You kind of frown and that worried look of uncertainty I've become familiar with can be seen on your face. Your lips kinda smush to the side and it looks you're tasting something bad. Plans had changed to move the ceremony from the beach to the event center where the dinner was to be held. It really is romantic though, the crisp sea air, the green that has come alive all around wooden docks stretching across the water. The light is not harsh, but like that of an illuminating candle. Your satin white is sharp against the gray surrounding you. We start to file into the cramped volvo. It begins to drizzle and we stuff you and your beautiful gown into the backseat of the car like a creampuff. I'm sitting beside you and Andrea. It seems like every time we try to get out of the car the rain starts again. Not just soft rain, but bursts of showers. "Okay, okay, lets just sit in the car for awhile." we all say and agree.
I swear as soon we try to open the car door again it becomes instantly wet outside again. So we sit there after each attempt and wait. The currents of nerves running through this volvo is as steadily present as the rain. We are a vehicle full of charged and nervous energy radiating out into the rain. We are trying to figure out a way to park and get out of the car as quickly as possible. This becomes frustrating and Andrea starts shouting. I don't even remember what she yells but it was something like "WELL WHERE THE FUCK ARE WE GONNA PARK?!" It's deserving of the caps lock because it's that dramatic. This negative tone is too much and I snap back with "WHOA. You don't need to shout like that. This is Amy's wedding." You thank me for laying down the law later. Andrea shuts her mouth and seems to realize you need peace. Silence and then eyes turned toward you. Your eyes are closed and you take a deep breath.
"I just need everybody to be quiet for me, " you say very softly. We respect this wish before we all spring out of the car into the wet Bodega Bay air like crazy bridesmaid jack-in-the-volvos. We huddle into a small room that seems like it's made for huddling or I guess storing your coat and purse in. Spattered on and chattering, we surround you and try to calmly breath together. A protective bridesmaid circle with misty curls and bare, goosebumped arms. Here we are. We tell you how beautiful you look. You do. You are ready. We are ready. You smooth your dress and hair and rattle out a big sigh. "I need something on my lips!" you say. Bridesmaids begin digging for color enhancement.
"Oh! I have a pretty lipgloss. Here!" I think you'll like this shade. You do. It's a soft and subtle pink with just enough shine and it reminds me of you. You spread its stickiness over your lips and add the final touch. In this moment I really feel like your'e my sister. Welcome to the family dear! Now let's get inside and do this. Let's get you married to my brother.
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