Marriage Matters

Marriage Matters - By Cynthia Ellingsen



One

Chloe McCallister was just not into getting all dressed up. Give her a nice pair of jeans, a comfy T-shirt and some tennis shoes and she was happy. Her mother and grandmother knew this, so now that she was stuck walking down a rocky beach in a pair of three-inch heels, they seemed to be getting way too much enjoyment out of her misery.

“Just pretend you’re on a sandy runway,” her grandmother called. “Work it.”

Chloe’s mother cheered. “You can do it. You’re almost there!”

On principle, Chloe came to a complete stop. Almost where? They were standing on the shores of Lake Michigan, with no wedding in sight. The Sleeping Bear Dunes loomed overhead like something from another planet, while herons dove in and out of the water, hunting for prey. She could only hope that fish would remain more appealing than the silver clip holding back her curly hair.

Tugging at her dress, Chloe wished she’d taken the time to pack properly instead of waiting until the last minute, grabbing the first party dress she saw and stuffing it into her suitcase. The dress was a size too small and it bit into the sensitive skin under her arms. Plus, she’d forgotten all about bringing a pair of shoes, which was why she was wearing her grandmother’s extra pair of stilettos. At 5'10", Chloe was much too tall to be wearing heels in the first place, not to mention ones made of animal skin that was most certainly illegal in civilized countries.

Chloe sighed. Weddings had really gotten out of control. Wasn’t it enough that they’d taken a flight and rental car to get to the destination? Did it have to be out in the middle of nowhere, too?

If anyone ever decided to marry her, Chloe planned to keep her wedding simple. It would be at a small church, with only her closest friends and family. She would wear ballet flats with her dress, marry the man of her dreams and have a wedding cake with frosting that sparkled. For the father-daughter dance, she might even just rock out to “Teach Me How to Dougie.”

A fun fantasy, but Chloe knew it wouldn’t happen anytime soon. Especially considering the last time she’d even caught a glimpse of the male anatomy was on a biology test for her grad finals.

“Chloe, come on,” her mother called, shielding her eyes against the sun. “This wedding’s going to happen with or without us. Pick up the pace.”

“Not until you tell me exactly where it is that we’re going!”

As her mother and grandmother exchanged glances, Chloe felt the first twinge of trepidation. It evolved into full-fledged panic when her grandmother, like an elderly game show hostess, pointed at a group of people in brightly colored dresses and khaki suits, mingling underneath a flowered arch. An arch that just happened to be at the very top of a sand dune. Suddenly, Chloe wished the hotel coffee had been spiked with something stronger than cream.

Ripping off the ridiculous stilettos, Chloe picked her way through the rocks until she caught up with her family. “Mom,” she gasped, grabbing Kristine’s arm. It was warm from the sunshine and spotted with freckles. “I thought we were going to a wedding, not an audition for Survivor.”

“What do you mean? This is a lovely hike.” Kristine swatted away a bug roughly the size of her fist. “They have Petoskey stones here. Look.” She pointed at a speckled gray rock lying in the water. “The pattern only shows up when it’s wet.”

“Fascinating.” Chloe took note of the camera around her mother’s neck and the copy of Great Hikes of Northern Michigan tucked under her arm. “In other words, we’re the only jackasses not driving to this wedding? Because we thought we’d tack on a nature hike?”

Chloe’s grandmother burst out laughing. Outrageous as always, June was wearing a long-sleeved dress made from reflective material, enormous black sunglasses and some sort of a weird, beekeeper-type hat. She took it off and shook it at them. “I say we skip this clambake altogether and go back to the hotel for a mimosa.”

“Finally.” Chloe lifted her hair away from her sweating neck. “Someone who’s not talking crazy.” Off her mother’s look, she said, “What? The groom’s, like, some third cousin I haven’t seen since I was ten. Why suffer through another wedding?”

“Chloe! Weddings are fun.” Kristine pushed her sunglasses up to reveal a pair of bright blue eyes. “They’re magical. They’re . . .”

“They’re second only to Valentine’s Day when it comes to the commercialization of the heart.” Chloe waved her naked ring finger. “And a blatant reminder that I’m going to die alone.”

June whacked her on the back. “You can’t die alone. You have us.”

“So, not only do I have to convince a man to fall madly in love with me, I have to convince him to fall in love with you and Mom, too?”

“Absolutely.” June nodded. “The three of us, we’re a package deal.”

“Besides, you’ll find someone.” Kristine smoothed a strand of hair out of Chloe’s eyes. “When you bother to make time for it.”

Thanks to her graduate program, internship hours and part-time job, Chloe barely had time to breathe, let alone date. Just getting away for this wedding had taken some serious juggling. “I’d rather make time for you guys,” she admitted. “You’re a lot more fun.”

“That’s a fact,” June agreed. As though eager to prove it, she pointed at the top of the sand dune. “Race you to the top of that hill,” she said, and started to run. In the thick white sand, she moved slowly, kicking up a spray of powder behind her after each step.

Kristine nudged Chloe. “Go! You can beat her.”

Chloe adjusted her sunglasses. “I am not about to get even sweatier. Maybe she’ll have a heart attack and that’ll be the end of it.”

June had gone a good distance when she finally turned. Seeing that Chloe hadn’t budged, she flapped her arms as though doing the chicken dance at the reception.

“Doubtful,” Kristine mused. With one hand, she wound her red hair up into a loose chignon. “And I think she’s calling you chicken.”

Chloe bit her lip. Even though her feet hurt, her scalp was burning and sand had found its way into places too embarrassing to mention, she was tempted. It had been a while since she’d beaten her grandmother at anything, although Chloe was 99.9 percent certain June had cheated at their last game of gin.

“Bawk, bawk.” June turned and waved her hat. “Come on, chicken.”

“That’s it.” Shoving the high heels at her mother, Chloe took off running, determined to beat her grandmother to the top of that damn hill.

* * *

By the time Kristine made her way up the sand dune, Chloe and June were hunched over in chairs meant for the reception, breathing heavily. A small jazz quartet played love songs and waiters circulated with trays of ice water.

Kristine surveyed the scene with admiration. “This is gorgeous.”

The white sand of the dunes and the view of Lake Michigan stretched into infinity, creating a lush, curving backdrop for the wedding. Along the edge of the bluff, chairs as white as a picket fence were neatly divided by a satin runner that led to a dramatic floral arch woven through with red, pink and purple wildflowers. The flowers danced in the breeze while the lake, in all of its deep blue vibrancy, sparkled against the horizon. Any bride would just love a view like this on her wedding day, assuming she wasn’t too nervous to see it. Kristine could remember exactly how it felt to stand at the altar, trembling in her white dress. Her legs were shaking like crazy until Kevin took her hands in his.

“You sure you want to do this?” he teased.

The comfort of his hands calmed her and she felt a rush of love more powerful than anything she’d ever experienced.

I’ve found my prince, she’d thought. I’m going to live a fairy tale.

Kristine flushed at the memory. The sentiment was so childish, so silly. Yes, she and Kevin had been fortunate enough to share many beautiful, passion-filled years, which was more than a lot of people could say. But eventually, like with all things, their marriage had lost its spark.

Nothing specific caused it, not really, just a slow series of life events that chipped away at their foundation. Chloe left for college, Kevin lost his job and Kristine started a business. Money was tight and Kevin finally found a new job, but it required him to travel all the time. Ultimately, it was just a lot of little things that added up to nothing, but something between the two of them had changed.

For example, this weekend marked their twenty-fifth anniversary and they weren’t even spending it together. This was nobody’s fault, really. Kristine had made plans to go to this wedding, while Kevin booked his typical flight out Sunday afternoon for work. Neither one of them even noticed the anniversary was coming up until last Wednesday. At that point, there was nothing left to do but laugh.

“It’s official,” Kevin had said. “We’re just two old and craggy married people.”

Gazing at the flowered arch, Kristine wrapped her arms tightly around herself. It was hard to believe that those sweet, early days when the only thing that mattered was watching the sunset together and cozying up in bed were long gone. It was scary to think that, if they weren’t careful, everything they’d built together might just drift away. At the thought, Kristine’s eyes pricked with tears.

“Uh-oh.” Chloe nudged June. “Mom’s getting emotional.”

For years, her family had teased Kristine about her tendency to tear up at everything from sentimental moments to sappy commercials. “When I got dropped off at kindergarten,” Chloe loved to say, “most parents had to comfort their children. I had to comfort my mother.”

“I’m not crying,” Kristine said quickly. “I just got a piece of sand in my eye.”

She hated to lie but she was not about to admit that something was wrong with her marriage, especially in front of her mother. June wouldn’t rest until she’d set up a battle plan for Kristine to resolve the issue. No, thank you. On a day like today, when the sun was shining so brightly and the lake sparkling in the distance, Kristine just wanted to enjoy herself. If that meant pretending everything was just fine when it wasn’t, then that’s what she’d have to do.

Flashing a bright smile, she said, “Should we find our seats?”

“Not quite yet.” June eased to her feet and gestured at a tiny trailer next to the parking lot. “I vote we powder our noses first. These bathrooms actually look just fine for an outdoor wedding.”

Kristine turned in the direction her mother was pointing. A squat, compact trailer was perched at the edge of the reception area. June was right; it was an awfully nice setup. Kristine narrowed her eyes, suddenly suspicious. A group of girls in blush-colored dresses were standing just off to the side, chatting with a group of young men in suits and cummerbunds.

“Mother, no. That’s the bride’s trailer and you know it,” Kristine said. “If you’d like to powder your nose, you’re going to have to do it over there.” She pointed at a row of the expected porta potties. They were set up over by the parking lot, steam practically rising from their surface.

“Unless my memory is failing me,” June said with a sniff, “I RSVPed for a wedding, not a camping trip. As a wedding guest, I expect a bathroom with air conditioning and running water.”

Chloe elbowed June. “Don’t forget you’re feeling faint,” she whispered.

June’s eyes brightened. “And I’m feeling faint.” Dramatically, she fanned herself with her hat. “I think I’m suffering from heatstroke.”

Kristine sighed. June loved to act like the rules didn’t apply to her. Somehow, she always managed to rope Chloe into her schemes.

“I’m sorry,” Kristine said. “But I am putting my foot down. You two cannot—”

Before the words were even out of her mouth, Chloe and June were making a beeline for the bride’s trailer. With Chloe’s long body and June’s short and wiry frame, they looked like two mismatched criminals ready to score.

“Unbelievable,” Kristine muttered. “We’ll be the first family to get kicked out of a wedding.”

Then, because she really wasn’t given a choice in the matter, Kristine raced to catch up.

* * *

As June pushed open the bathroom door, chilly air hit her cheeks and cooled the damp tendrils of her hair. It felt delightful. She’d been just about ready to expire out there in that heat. Peering over her shoulder, June beckoned to Kristine and Chloe. They were hanging back in the doorway, as though there was something to be afraid of. Ridiculous, considering this bathroom was perfectly lovely. It smelled like hairspray and perfume instead of . . . well, all sorts of other unappealing, outdoor-bathroom-type things.

“Come on,” June chirped. “This is much bet—” Suddenly, she stopped. Unless she was mistaken, someone in the bride’s trailer was sobbing. It was a dreadful sound, full of gasps and sniffles. Taking a few steps forward, June squinted as her eyes adjusted to the indoor light.

A bride stood in the midst of a mess of hairpins, makeup brushes and tissues, holding a bouquet and sobbing as though her heart would break. If you didn’t count the tears, the young girl was the picture of bridal perfection. She wore a tasteful A-line gown, with two sheer panels down the front that would most certainly wave in the breeze. A cascade of curly blonde hair was piled on top of her head and accessorized with antique pearl combs clipped into a flouncy veil. Even her eye makeup, which most certainly had to be waterproof, appeared to be flawless.

“Ooph,” Chloe grunted, knocking into June from behind. “Grandma! What are you . . . Oh no.”

“Mother.” June felt a sharp tug at the back of her dress. “We are leaving . . . now.”

Even though Kristine was obviously itching to remove her from the premises, June wasn’t certain that was the right choice. There had to be a reason that she had stepped into this trailer, at this very moment in time. Perhaps it was inappropriate to interfere with a girl on her wedding day, but clearly, this was one bride who needed an intervention.

June bustled forward. There was a box of tissues on the counter next to the mirror. With three quick tugs, she whipped out a handful. “Did the groom get cold feet?” June demanded. She had been to more than one wedding in her life where the mother of the bride clipped down the aisle with a fake smile, making an announcement that “the kids were having second thoughts,” the bride wailing in the nave as though her heart would break.

Clearly surprised to see anyone in her trailer, this bride jumped and then her face crumpled. “No, he didn’t get cold feet. I . . . I think I did.”

June was surprised. It seemed that, for a young lady who had invested so much time and energy into her look, she had failed to give much thought to what it meant to say forever. Without mincing words, June told her just that.

Kristine stepped forward, her freckled face flushed crimson. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “My mother is suffering from heatstroke but don’t worry, we’re leaving. Right now.”

Kristine gave her dress another firm yank. June gripped the plastic counter to hold her footing. “Stop,” June said as Kristine somehow managed to slide her back a full two feet. “I am simply—”

“She’s right,” the bride said. After touching a bouquet of pink roses on the counter, the girl sank down onto a white wicker stool. “She’s absolutely right.”

Slowly, Kristine released her grip. “She is?”

June sniffed, straightening her shoulders. Of course she was right. Whether her daughter wanted to give her credit or not, June often knew what was good for everyone else before they knew it themselves.

“I’ve dreamed about my wedding day ever since I was a little girl,” the bride sniffled. “Now that it’s here, it’s just . . . not what I thought it would be.”

“Weddings have gotten a little outrageous . . .” Chloe started to say.

Kristine silenced her with a look.

The bride gave a wistful smile. “I just always thought I was going to marry . . .” She hesitated. “Well . . .”

“A prince,” June suggested. “A movie star. Barack Obama.”

“A firefighter.” The bride’s eyes were pained. “I grew up next to a fire station and every night I’d hear the fire trucks head off to rescue someone. I thought I’d marry someone like that. Someone who . . .” Another tear trickled down her cheek. “Someone who could rescue me.” Off June’s silence, the bride shook her head. “It doesn’t even make sense.”

“It does,” June said. “You want to feel safe.” Back when Eugene was alive, June had always felt safe. The hardest part about losing him was the knowledge that the one person who could protect her was gone.

The bride shook her head. “I don’t know if I can do it.”

The fans of the air-conditioning whirred in the silence. In the mirror, June saw that Chloe was chewing on her lip, as though considering the girl’s words, and Kristine was staring down at her wedding ring.

“Every bride goes through this,” June said. “Whether it happens six months before the wedding, two days before or even on the day of, there will be tears, regrets and what-ifs. Trust me, I know. I almost backed out of my wedding.”

“You did?” Kristine asked.

June smiled. “I asked my mother to send me to a nunnery. But . . . She tapped me on the cheek and said, ‘That’s a terrible idea. You’ll just get kicked out.’”

Chloe laughed. “She was right about that.”

“So, I got married instead.” June indicated her family. “And it was the best decision I ever made.”

The bride studied her engagement ring again. Just beyond the door, the muffled voices of the bridal party talked and giggled. The faint strains of a harp began to play.

“If you’re really going to call off this wedding”—June did her best to keep her voice gentle—“you won’t want to do it alone. We need to go find your best friend.”

Chloe nodded, moving toward the door. “Is it your maid of honor? I’ll go get her.”

“No.” The bride shrugged. “That’s the worst part.”

June felt a flicker of hope. “Why?”

“Because Robbie’s my best friend. I can talk to him about anything, he always makes me laugh and he knows just what to say when I’m feeling . . .” The girl’s voice trailed off. “Oh.” The sound was barely a whisper.

“You love him, don’t you?” June asked.

The bride’s eyes widened. “I do.” Jumping to her feet, she stared at June as though she were a magician. “I do!”

“Well, save those I dos for the altar,” June laughed. “Because there’s a wedding out there waiting for you.”

“And it’s beautiful,” Kristine said.

“You should marry him.” Chloe nodded. “I mean, if he really is your best friend.”

June grabbed another tissue from the counter. Quickly, she dabbed at a tiny smear of mascara just below the girl’s eyes then gave her a little push. “Go.”

The bride rushed toward the door, her white dress swaying behind her. Suddenly, she stopped and grabbed her throwing bouquet out of the vase by the mirror. “I was going to do this at the reception, but . . .” Raising it up, the bride gave June a mischievous smile. “Catch.”

Before June could even register what was happening, the bouquet was flying through the air toward her face. June put up her hands, more as an instinctive block than anything. A hard stem hit her palm and she felt her fingers wrap around it. Kristine’s and Chloe’s hands folded over the top of hers. Stunned, June looked down at a bouquet of pink and white roses, surrounded by a cheerful spray of baby’s breath.

The bride squealed. “You’re next! All three of you.”

Chloe gave a nervous giggle. “Um, do I have a boyfriend I don’t know about?”

Kristine shook her head. “I’m . . . I’m married.”

June raised her eyebrows. “Wouldn’t that be a nice surprise?”

“Thank you.” The bride clasped her hands, her eyes bright. “This was . . .” She bowed her head, as though realizing the enormity of what she’d almost done. Looking up, she smiled at June. “Thank you.”

The young girl opened the door. Sunshine spilled into the room and Lake Michigan shimmered in the background. The bridesmaids saw her and waved, chattering in excitement.

June extended her arms like an usher. Her daughter and granddaughter grabbed hold, the bouquet in the center. “Come on,” June said. “Let’s go see what this marriage thing is all about.”