Going to the Chapel (22 page)

There’s no accounting for plants. I’d rather have a leaf cut off, nice and surgically clean, rather than have someone squeeze the life out of me.

There’s a ring on the phone and I swear Jerry and I both sigh in relief. We weren’t looking forward to everyone coming earlier, but now we’re caught up in the agony of waiting and thinking anything would be better than just sitting here, even having the aunts actually arrive.

“Hello,” Jerry says into the phone. He picked it up, because he is sitting closest to it.

Jerry gives me a nod so I know it is the aunts.

“Yeah, they gave us a key,” Jerry says as he puts his hand over the mouthpiece of the phone. “They want to meet us at the Big M and see the chapel first thing.”

“Oh, well,” I say. “I guess that’s fine.”

There’s a weekend guard at the Big M and Mr. Z had told him all about the wedding plans so I’m sure there’s no problem if we go look in the chapel area. It’s just that I wasn’t prepared for everyone to see the Big M yet.

I should have spent some time this morning bracing myself for the viewing. I doubt it will go smoothly. Elaine will want to do something foolish like put orange glitter on the brass candle sconces in the entry hall and I will spout off something about how she has no appreciation for tradition. Then she will say it’s her wedding day and she wants everything perfect and I will say if she wanted perfection she should have taken the cruise. And then—I stop myself. I don’t need to have arguments in my head with Elaine. This is an aunt day. I need to think of ways to avoid arguments.

I smile.

“What’s that for?” Jerry looks at me suspiciously. “You planning something?”

“No,” I say. “I’m planning to be nice.”

Jerry grunts as if he doesn’t believe me.

The first thing anyone will want to see when they step out of the cars at the Big M is probably the restrooms. I relax a little. If Elaine wants to do something strange like put orange soap in there, it would be okay.

Jerry, Cassie, and I meet everyone at the Big M.

Aunt Inga drove her car down and my mother apparently went to Blythe yesterday so she could drive over with Aunt Inga. Aunt Ruth, Elaine and Uncle Howard arrive first and, even with only the three of them, I can tell it was a crowded ride. Elaine was in the backseat and she brought her dress. The garment bag was on the seat next to her and I saw the box for the train in the trunk when Elaine opened it to get her purse.

“You put your purse in the trunk?” I say and then I remember to be nice. “That’s a good idea actually.”

Everyone else is standing around stretching from the long drive so they aren’t paying any attention to me and Elaine.

“It’s supposed to control impulse spending,” Elaine says with a little pride in her voice. “I’m practicing to be a responsible wife. Gary insists we have a budget. The purse in the trunk was his idea.”

“Ooo-kay, then,” I say. “You must have covered finances in premarital counseling.”

“We don’t need premarital counseling,” Elaine says smugly. “Gary has good instincts about what to do in most situations.”

I nod as though I understand her. “So, I guess he’s figured out how to handle his parents when they want to do things like stop your mother from being at your wedding?”

“We’re still working on his parents,” she says, only now she seems more human because there’s a hint of worry in her eyes. “Gary says we should be patient. They’re not used to being in-laws and having to share us with another set of parents.”

Elaine glances over at her mother and father who
are standing beside Aunt Inga’s car and looking at the sidewalk leading up to the Big M.

“I never realized how important my parents are to me until Gary’s parents started wanting to be my parents, too,” Elaine says. “I already have parents.”

You know, I think this is the first time Elaine has confided a problem to me. It obviously makes her as uncomfortable as it does me.

“I hope your aisle is long enough for my dress,” Elaine says before we can actually talk about her problem. “The place doesn’t look that big.”

“It’s big enough,” I say as I start to lead the way down the sidewalk toward the Big M. It’s fine by me if she doesn’t want to talk about the problems with her soon-to-be in-laws. I don’t know what I would say about everything right now anyway except
Run, Elaine, Run.

I ring the buzzer when I get to the front door of the Big M. I have a key, but I don’t want the guard inside to wonder what is happening so I wait for him to come to the door. There are often funerals on Saturdays, but there aren’t any today so Mr. Z rearranged the staff schedule to be sure no one, except the guard, had to work this weekend.

We stop at the restrooms and I wait for everyone to assemble before I lead the way again. I am glad I put on a dress today. Aunt Inga is wearing an old cotton dress that she’s worn many times before, but Aunt Ruth has on a tailored suit with lapels and everything. She’s even got a fuchsia scarf pinned around her neck that matches the lipstick on her face. My mother is wearing a white blouse and designer jeans, but she’s got high heels on her feet so she looks like a model.

Aunt Ruth is the first one to walk into the chapel at the Big M. She looks down the long center aisle with its deep burgundy carpet, but she doesn’t walk down it. Instead, she walks along the back of the pews and goes down the left side aisle. Her shoe heels make a clicking sound on the wood, because there is no carpet on the outside aisles.

I am watching Aunt Ruth so I don’t see someone come up next to me.

“She’s calculating how many people can sit on each side,” my mother says. “The bride’s side. The groom’s side. She wants to be sure her side wins.”

I turn to look at my mother. I should have gone over to her and given her a hug while we were outside standing beside the cars, but I didn’t do it the second I saw her and then Elaine started talking about her in-law troubles and it seemed it would look like an afterthought to go hug my mother when she’d already been standing outside Aunt Inga’s car for five minutes. I can’t remember the last time I gave my mother a hug anyway. Sometimes we hug before I leave Las Vegas, but usually we’re too self-conscious to hug at first sight. It’s something we have to kind of work up to.

“There’s no way Gary’s side will have more people than Elaine’s,” I say to her so she knows I’m at least following her conversation. “I think Aunt Ruth invited everyone who knows Elaine.”

“She’s proud of her daughter,” my mother says and she puts her hand on my shoulder.

I kind of expect my mother to say she is proud of me, too, so I don’t say anything to ruin the moment in case the moment is coming. But nothing happens, except
that my mother takes her hand off my shoulder and points to the stained glass window. “That’s beautiful.”

I forgot that the stained glass window glows like this when the late-afternoon sun hits it on a slant. It’s almost impossible to ignore the window when that happens and I had hoped Aunt Ruth and Elaine would have enough time to notice things like the soft sheen of the carved wood on the inside columns at the front of the church before they saw the sheep.

“The stained glass window won’t be so obvious in the wedding,” I say before Aunt Ruth can demand it be covered. “It’s just late afternoon that it looks like this with the sun pouring through.”

Aunt Ruth nods from where she’s standing at the front of the church.

“It’s nice,” Aunt Ruth finally says.

I can see we are all going to try really hard to be positive. That will either save us or doom us. I’m not sure which.

“Lambs are clean animals, aren’t they?” Elaine says as she walks down the center aisle to where her mother is standing. “And, at least, they don’t bark or anything so no one will make a rude sound during the ceremony like they might if it was a cow or something.”

“Oh, no, lambs are definitely better than cows,” Aunt Ruth agrees.

“And the lamb is with Jesus,” Elaine says. “Gary’s parents can’t object to Jesus.”

Actually, from what I saw of them at Elaine’s engagement party, I wouldn’t be too sure about that. They looked as if they could object to anyone.

“The organ has built-in pipes,” I add as I point to
where the pipes are located on each side of the altar. They are tucked behind the wood columns. “The sound they make is great.”

“Organ music is good,” Uncle Howard says as he walks up the aisle to join his wife and daughter.

I was surprised to see Uncle Howard step out of the car here earlier even though I had heard he’d stopped hiding in the bedroom. When he reaches Aunt Ruth and Elaine, he puts an arm around each of them. That’s sweet and not usual for him. Maybe these troubles have been good for all of them if they appreciate each other more.

I look over at Jerry. He is standing in a little half booth to the side in the back of the chapel.

“Do you want to test the sound out?” Jerry asks as he speaks into a microphone. It’s obviously a rhetorical question because he continues without looking up. “Testing One. Two. Three.”

“The singer we hire can stand there,” Elaine says as she turns around to look at Jerry.

“Usually the soloist is in the front of the church,” I say and then remember my vow to be pleasant. “But a break from tradition can be good.”

I notice all of the aunts and Elaine looking at me.

“We were hoping you might know someone who sings,” Elaine finally says. “I haven’t lined anyone up yet and you mentioned you did have people who sang solos here.”

“They’re funeral songs,” I say. “You know, the old hymns. You’ll want something light and romantic for your wedding. I thought you had someone for music.”

Elaine shrugs. “I did, but they were going to do
some of the Beatles’ songs. Gary’s parents thought that wouldn’t be dignified for a wedding.”

“I’m not sure we have anything more dignified,” I say. I can’t suggest Mr. Strett. He’s pretty dour even for funerals. He’d look very out of place at a wedding. “Besides, the person you had coming can sing the songs softly. Gary’s parents probably wouldn’t even recognize the songs then.”

I wonder, and not for the first time, what Elaine is doing, thinking she even wants to marry into this family.

“Gary’s mother thought maybe I should have someone sing some classical music,” Elaine says and it’s plain to see she’s miserable. “Maybe something in French or Italian.”

“Well, where would we get someone like that?” Jerry asks from over by the sound system. “Maybe I could find an old CD or something.”

“I can get you an opera singer,” my mother says. She’s walked halfway down the center aisle and is sitting in one of the pews. “We have one where I work.”

“I don’t think someone who sings in a casino is suitable for Elaine’s wedding,” Aunt Ruth says sharply.

My mother shrugs. “The woman is classically trained. She’s had solos at Carnegie Hall.”

With those credentials, I expect Aunt Ruth to gladly accept the offer, but she doesn’t. There’s silence until Aunt Inga clears her throat.

“It’s such a generous offer.” Aunt Inga is walking down the aisle to where Aunt Ruth stands with Elaine and Uncle Howard. “Don’t you think we should accept?”

“Gary’s parents couldn’t object to an opera singer,” Elaine says. “It would be one less thing for us to worry about.”

Aunt Ruth nods and looks over at my mother. “I guess we have to accept. We’ll pay the woman, of course.”

My mother lifts one of her eyebrows. “Of course.”

I would have thought the offer of the opera singer would soften the feelings Aunt Ruth and my mother have toward each other, but it doesn’t. They both spend the next hour or so measuring and remeasuring various parts of the chapel.

“Jerry already measured those,” I finally say quietly to Aunt Inga.

Aunt Inga is sitting down on one of the back pews. “I know.”

I sit down beside her. “Then why are they still measuring?”

I know I have vowed to be nice about all of this, but it’s driving me crazy to see my mother measure something and then Aunt Ruth go and measure the exact same thing. Jerry made the mistake of giving them each a tape measure when they questioned his measurement on the far right aisle.

“They’re still working things out with each other,” Aunt Inga says. “Neither one of them wants to trust the other.”

“You’re kidding, right?” I say to Aunt Inga as I sit down beside her. “At this rate, we’ll all be dead before they figure out their problem.”

Aunt Inga smiles.

I think to myself how silly Aunt Ruth and my
mother are and then I happen to glance over at Elaine who is sitting in the back pew on the other side of the church. I guess I can’t criticize Aunt Ruth and my mother for having a problem with each other when I have this thing between Elaine and me.

“It’s all because Aunt Ruth never liked my grandmother,” I say to Aunt Inga so I won’t have to think about Elaine and me. Our problem is different anyway.

Aunt Inga looked at me. “I wouldn’t say Ruth never liked your grandmother. She would handle it better if she hadn’t.”

“Well, she never liked the way my grandmother lived her life, I know that for a fact. She complained that my grandmother didn’t work hard enough and liked pretty things and wanted to have some fun.”

“It’s true she complained,” Aunt Inga says. “But that’s why she’s so hard on your grandmother’s memory. She feels disloyal to our mother.”

“Why would she feel that?”

Aunt Inga nods. “Watch your mother and Aunt Ruth for a while. You’ll see for yourself what their problem is.”

By now the afternoon light has turned to dusk. I watch my mother and Aunt Ruth for a few minutes and then Uncle Howard announces he’ll take us all out to eat somewhere.

We go to a Mediterranean restaurant that is close by and, all the time, I am watching my mother and Aunt Ruth to see what the secret to their animosity is. I wonder if Aunt Inga is making me figure this one out for myself because she wants me to really think about it. I’m not sure I want a relationship like Aunt Ruth
and my mother have, but whether I want it or not, I have one like it with Elaine. I wonder if the coldness between Aunt Ruth and my mother has anything to do with Aunt Ruth calling my mother her half sister instead of just her sister, but I figure it has to be deeper than that.