“Well, that’s your problem right there, Liz” she started. “I don’t think I’ve met a man that really cared about me as much as he cared about himself.”
“What about Dad?” I asked.
She laughed and started pulling up her stockings.
“Your father was something else all right.”
I still missed him. I’m sure he would have laughed at my mom for marrying other men, if he were here that is. I still visit his grave on his birthday and do my best to avoid crying. I usually fail.
“You loved him, right?” I asked.
“Of course I did,” she replied, “but his head was so far in the clouds, I doubt he felt the same about me.”
I sighed. she still wouldn’t admit how much she missed him. I could see the look on her face change slightly whenever I talked about him. Sometimes I wondered if she ran into the arms of other men to forget my dad.
The door creaked open.
“Five more minutes,” came the voice of the wedding planner before she slipped back outside.
“That’s my cue,” Mom said. “Soon I’ll be Mrs. Holly Jane Roberts.”
I quickly made my way around her dress to straighten what I could.
“How do I look?” she asked.
I could see her face ready to well up with tears, but she was a professional at keeping herself in check. I wondered if she was happy or sad.
“Gorgeous as always, Mom,” I replied.
The girls waiting in the hallway came in and helped us down the stairs toward the ceremony. I assisted in whatever way I could, but it was hardly necessary. I looked at my slim physique in the mirror, covered in the ugly maid of honor dress she’d picked out for me. She knew yellow wasn’t my color.
Showtime.
2.
I stood at the altar with a few girls I recognized and a couple I didn’t know in the slightest. Even though this was my third time being the maid of honor for my mother, I was still nervous.
Across from the girls stood a row of men all wearing the same suit, and some better than others. Two of them caught my eye, twins to be exact. Both of them were tall and filled out their suits well. Their square jaws and hazel eyes were like magnets drawing me closer.
As the music piped up, I realized where I was and pushed my dirty thoughts to the back of my mind. I was at my mother’s wedding; this wasn’t the time to be eyeing boys. That was what the reception was for.
The ceremony was lovely and grand in design. The church held more than 200 guests, most of who were guests of the groom. I knew the few people Mom always invited to her weddings, and they sat together near the front of the church. The church itself was full of history, with stain glass windows and wood from another century. Things creaked and groaned under step, but it only added to the character.
My mother looked like a gem as she wafted down the aisle. Her new husband, Thomas, stood with a broad smile across his face. I even saw a small tear form in the corner of his eye, only to be pushed away by his pride. When I saw the two of them standing next to each other, I knew this wouldn’t be like the previous marriages.
I tried my best to avoid making eye contact with the twins across from me. It was a difficult task at best. I thought I was doing a good job until one of them locked eyes with me for a moment. He smiled at me. I smiled back and then returned my attention to the wedding, only to have it ripped away again when I caught him still looking over at me. This time he winked, and I blushed for a second before wiping a fake tear from my eye.
Thankfully the ceremony finished soon after, and the married couple strode back down the red carpet that led the way from the altar.
Most of the guests began filing out as soon as the ceremony was over. The reception was being held in the penthouse of a nearby high-rise building. I wasn’t surprised in the least by the choice of location; the groom owned the building after all.
Standing outside it and looking up at the monolith of glass, I wondered if it continued on into the sky forever. I wasn’t much for heights, and I would need a lot of patience to get through this.
I brought along a change of clothes for the reception, as I didn’t want to be stuck wearing this horrid dress for the entire affair. And just as I was about to change, I was reminded that they would be taking wedding photos.
I was greeted by a familiar face in the elevator; it was one of the twins. I could hardly tell them apart, and I wasn’t entirely sure how to approach the awkward subject of staring at each other.
“Top floor please,” he said.
I cocked my eye and looked at him, wondering if he realized I was in the wedding party. Still, I clicked the button for the penthouse and the elevator shot upward.
The ride was a silent affair in the beginning, neither of us having the interest or the courage to say hello. I finally worked up the nerve to start some small talk.
“Beautiful wedding,” I said.
“Ah, yes, it was. Who are you?” he asked.
I realized this must have been the other brother, and I was a little embarrassed.