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what my mother had warned this could do. I would let
nothing diminish the glow of our candles.
Not tonight.
Not ever.
Not if I could help it.
Do you think you are being realistic, Willow?
Daddy would surely ask.
Must we always? You weren't realistic all the time, Daddy. Especiallywhen you fell in love with
my mother.
Was I right to be that way?
Yes. Yes! I screamed back at him.
He popped out of my mind like a soap bubble
and left me staring at myself in the mirror.
Wondering.
13
A Most Wonderful Wedding
.
How do you sleep the flight before your
wedding-? I wondered when it came time to do so. I had periodic feelings of numbness alternating with an electric sensitivity at my nerve endings that made me jump and flinch and have shortness of breath every time I brushed against something or stopped and let myself dwell on the ceremony and reception. I don't know how many times I looked at my wedding dress, my shots, my veil, questioning whether I had made the right decision or whether I should have listened to Bunny.
Stop this, Willow De Beers , I told myself. Stop this second guessing.
However, with Bunny Eaton still hovering about the property and the sounds of men and women below setting up the tables and the decorations, I couldn't imagine closing my eyes. I was certainly not going to take any sleeping pills. All I needed was to wake up groggy on my wedding day.
I had just changed into my nightgown and pulled back the blanket to crawl into bed when I heard a knock on my door. Thinking it was Mother. I went and opened it quickly and found Margaret Selby in her robe and slippers.
"What's wrong?" I asked. "Oh, nothing. I just remember what it was like for me the night before my wedding and thought I would stop by to see you. I'm sure your stomach is full of pins and needles. Mine was."
"Yes," I said. "but I'm going to try to get some sleep.
"Oh, you won't." she said with a wave of her hand, and marched into my room. "This is such a magnificent house and property. I can tell you. Mother was very impressed and is still babbling about it. She had no idea. What sort of a home could a mother who had been in Uncle Claude's mental clinic possibly have, she would ask all the time."
"Well, now she knows."
"Yes, and your mother is so lovely. I don't see how anyone could tell she was mentally ill."
"She was helped many, many years ago. Margaret. She hasn't had those sorts of problems for a long time. It's not something you see in someone's face forever."
"I know." she declared, and looked at my wedding dress. "Your dress is much prettier than mine was. Ashley's mother really was the one who picked out my dress. She and Mother, that is. They both thought the dress I wanted was inappropriate because it showed a little more bosom than they thought was proper. Imagine. Like it's against the law to look sexy at your own wedding or something. How about all those people who are seven or eight or even nine months pregnant at their weddings? No one seems to complain about that. And they wear white, too!
"At least I was really and truly a virgin when I got married in white. I bet you're not, are you?" she asked, after a moment of building some courage.
