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A society editor from the Globe stood outside the door
to Momma's suite trying to get an interview with
Momma.
Troy was very excited. Every chance he had, he
marched people in to see his toy collection. Relatives
stopped by, cousins and aunts and uncles. I never
would have believed that a house this big could be so
crowded. I didn't think the wedding would have any
sense of order, but when the time came, everyone and
everything fell into place.
I joined the other bridesmaids in the upstairs
corridor. We were each given a bouquet of sweetheart
roses to carry. Troy, as cute as ever in his tuxedo and
black tie, was hurried downstairs to take his place next to Tony by the altar. Finally, there was a deep hush. We heard the first piano notes. Excitement rippled through the faces of everyone in the wedding
party.
Looking angelic in her Victorian wedding gown
with a lace neck smothered in pearls, Momma
emerged from her suite. She smiled through her veil
and paused to squeeze my hand when she stepped
beside me. My heart began to pound so hard and my
face felt so hot, I thought I would faint. I felt terrible
knowing I should be saying something sweet, something loving, to her, but my throat ached from
swallowed tears.
"Wish me luck," she begged.
Luck? What does luck have to do with love and
marriage? I thought. Was it bad luck that Momma had
gotten pregnant with me or was it just stupidity? Was
it just bad luck for Daddy that had brought him to her
that fateful night in Texas, or was it Grandma Jana's
manipulations? Was it good luck or bad luck that
