***
BOTH IN THEIR pj’s, ready for the before-the-wedding slumber party of two, Jennifer tried to coax Marcie into sleep. “It’s no sleep that makes your eyes puffy, Marc. You need to sleep, and you’re wound up like the Energizer bunny.”
Marcie just pursed her lips, eyes wide open. Meanwhile, Jennifer sat down in the chair she and Bobby had shared the night of the party, trying to forget how good lying there in his arms had felt.
“I can’t believe it’s tomorrow,” Marcie said and reached for her cell phone.
“Please,” Jennifer said. “Do not check your messages again.”
“What if—”
“The wedding planner calls?” Jennifer finished. “The phone would ring. We’re right here.”
Marcie crossed then recrossed her legs and set her phone down. “I’m making you crazy.”
“No,” Jennifer replied. “You’re making you crazy. I’m fine. After all—I have a broken heart and a lime dress.” She rolled her eyes and said at the same time as Marcie, “Yellow-green.” Jennifer glowered. “Not a color. Looked it up in the dictionary.”
“Fine,” Marcie said. “It’s lime, but I enjoyed making you say yellow-green. That whole ‘bride has the power’ thing.”
“Only I never said yellow-green,” she reminded her.
“No,” Marcie said, and snickered. “But the other girls did. So did the wedding planner.”
Jennifer laughed. “Oh, you are bad, Marcie.”
“Yeah,” she said, scooting to the headboard to lean against it. “Mark was in on the joke. He thought it was pretty funny, but then, he gets my bizarre sense of humor.” She sat back up. “I’m so nervous.”
“Calm down,” Jennifer instructed, plumping pillows.
“Okay, so distract me from my wedding nerves and tell me about the hot, welcome-back sex that you and Bobby have had the last week,” she said.
“Welcome back? Right. He comes and goes without a word, and I’m supposed to keep welcoming him back with sex? I don’t think so.”
Marcie studied Jennifer a long while. “Did you ask where he was?”
“Do you know?”
“No,” she said. “But Bobby is Special Forces. If he could have told you where he went, I’m sure he would have.”
“He could have told me he had a work situation,” she said.
“Are you sure?” Marcie asked. “Maybe he was forbidden. Look, Jen, you and Bobby saved our party. Then, you turned around and saved our wedding. You gave us another chance. You’re good together.” But they weren’t together. They were always apart. And even when they were together, she would always wonder when he’d be gone. She eyed Marcie. “Go to sleep, hon. Tomorrow, you are going to marry the man of your dreams.” And Jennifer was going to say a final farewell to hers.
19
THE WEDDING DAY WAS HECTIC, but the weather was beautiful, the church perfect aside from the fact that her mother caught the flu and her father wouldn’t be present to make Bobby squirm. Of course, her father liked Bobby, so why give Bobby a chance to win him over again? Aside from the Bobby situation, Marcie was a wreck, and her mother wasn’t much better. And as they neared the fifteen-minute mark before the big event, Jennifer tried to be the calming force in the dressing room. She was failing miserably.
“My shoes,” Marcie said, a hint of hysteria in her voice. “I can’t find my shoes.”
“Hold on, dear,” her mother said, looking tall and elegant in a fitted, pale green suit dress, her voice pretending her normal coolness when she was anything but. Still she added confidently, “I’ll find them.”
The next thing Jennifer knew, the room was awash in lime-green, frantic females as the shoes were nowhere to be found.
“Oh, my God!” Marcie screamed. “I left them on my bed!”
Sharon and the bridal party all gasped in unison. Jennifer squeezed her eyes shut.
“My shoes!” Marcie screamed.
“Her shoes!” Sharon screamed, no longer maintaining her facade of cool.
The girls began a rumble of worried chatter.
“Everyone out!” Jennifer said, her lashes snapping open. “Go to the next room. Marcie needs calm.” Good grief, Jennifer needed calm. And the night of no sleep, as she replayed every last second with Bobby these past two weeks, did not help. Nor did knowing she was going to see him any minute.
Everyone stared at Jennifer, as if shocked that she’d dared demand they leave. Sharon piped in, “Go! Mother has spoken.”
The girls quickly turned obedient and rushed to the connecting dressing room, pulling the door shut.
Jennifer straightened, running her hand over the formfitting, lime-green silk of her knee-length dress and hoping it traveled well. “I’ll go get the shoes.”
“There’s no time,” Marcie said frantically, her veil whisking behind her as she began to pace.
“Stop pacing,” Sharon reprimanded. “You’ll mess up the hem of your dress.”
Marcie whirled on her mother, brushing a red ringlet gently back from her brow, her veil already in place. “I have no shoes, Mother. There’s no time to get the shoes.”
“I’ll make it in time,” Jennifer insisted. “And if we start five minutes late, who cares?”