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“Proud of you? For what?” Cassie asked, looking up, her eyes cold, steely gray, and sharp. “For getting married?”
“Probably for doing something normal,” I muttered. “After what has been done to me, that’s an accomplishment,” I added as sharply as I could.
She looked away and then disappeared as quickly as she had appeared.
I rose slowly to start my wedding day. A year ago, such a day had seemed more like an impossible dream. Certainly, my roommate, Ellie, would never have imagined it would come so quickly for me, and most certainly not before hers. I wondered what had become of her and how surprised she would be if she heard about me. All of those girls would be surprised. Look at what had become of the girl they had derided as Norma Bates.
All day long, I kept telling myself I should be happier and more excited. There was so much going on around me, and all of it was because of me. I was the center of attention, not Cassie, not Daddy, and not Lucille, but Lucille remained at the forefront of everything. She had written out the schedule determining when we would leave Heaven-stone for the hotel, when we were to take the family photos, and when each step in the ceremony would occur. Ethan went off early to spend his day with his family and friends. Lucille had booked a room for him to use. Was there anything she didn’t think of?
Late in the morning, Uncle Perry stopped by to see me.
“Knock knock,” he said, stepping into my open doorway. I was at my vanity table toying with some other way to wear my hair. “Hey, Sam.”
“Hi, Uncle Perry.”
“Preparations, preparations,” he said, looking at my dress spread out on my bed. “So? Excited?”
“Yes, now that it’s really happening.”
“Oh, it’s happening.” He winked. “I know you had a lot to do with my being Ethan’s best man,” he said. “I hope I live up to the privilege.”
“For us, there was no other choice, Uncle Perry. You’ll always be the closest friend we have.”
He, too, looked at my mother’s photo. “How happy she would be today,” he said. “I’m proud of you, too, Sam.” Then he laughed. “Your father’s about as nervous as I’ve seen him.”
He wished me luck and went off to see Daddy. Lucille was at the hotel overseeing last-minute tasks and corrections.
Just after lunch, I had a surprise phone call. Mrs. Dobson called me from London. She had read about my wedding and wanted to wish me good luck and happiness. Hearing her voice brought tears immediately. She told me she was doing just fine, having acquired another position in another posh house. “Not as posh as Heaven-stone, mind you, but pretty posh.”
“I’m glad, Mrs. Dobson. I do miss you. I hope someday we’ll meet again.”
“I had a strong feeling you and that young man would come to something. I’m sure sometime in the future, you’ll be traveling and set down in London. When you do, you can ring me up. I’ll send you my new number and address.”
“I surely will,” I said.
“You stay healthy and happy,” she said.
It broke my heart to hear the line go dead and realize she wouldn’t be there at my wedding. When I had suggested finding out where she was and inviting her, Daddy had looked upset and said, “She’s back in England, Semantha. It would be inordinately expensive for someone in her bracket to attend this affair. It would be unfair to invite her.”
“And a slap in the face for Lucille,” Cassie had muttered, but I didn’t say it.
Now I felt terrible that I hadn’t insisted we send her an invitation. She could have declined, but at least she would have known I hadn’t forgotten her and never would. It was the one sad note to an otherwise exciting day, but I didn’t let anyone know about it, especially Daddy, who I could see was beaming with pride and happiness.
Our wedding was truly a micro version of Daddy and Lucille’s. Give the devil her due, I kept thinking as it went along without the slightest problem. The ceremony was beautiful, and the reception was wonderful. Ethan’s friends and cousins really enjoyed themselves. We all danced until we could barely stand, and then Ethan and I, according to the way Lucille had planned it, made our departure in the Heaven-stone limousine, which took us to the airport hotel, where we spent the rest of the night before our flight to Nice, France. Both of us were exhausted and went right to sleep. We even slept through most of the flight.
Thanks again to Lucille, every little detail of our trip was addressed. A car waited for us in Nice, and we were driven to Monaco and the Hotel de Paris, where we were led to a large, plush suite. A basket of fruit and a bottle of champagne were waiting for us, sent by Claire Dubonnet, Lucille’s friend. In the card, she wished us a wonderful stay and said we should call in the impossible event of our being bored.
Ethan decided we should spend the day resting and adjusting to the jet lag. We’d order in and, despite the wonderful weather and the temptation of touring, stay in bed.
“After all,” he said, “I promised a romantic honeymoon, and this is where it all starts.”
Talk about things happening fast. How could I have felt more swept away? We made love, ate, slept, and made love. When I woke again, Ethan was up and showering. I called to him, and he poked his head out of the bathroom.
“You up to going out?” he asked.
I looked at the clock. “It’s nine. Where are we going?”
“To the world-famous Monte Carlo casino, of course. Lucille gave us a side gift.”
