I Do (16 page)

“What if we get into some big knock-down, drag-out fight in the middle of a marriage class?” I asked, even though I knew this was highly unlikely.

“Then I'll just take you aside and invite you in for private counseling the next day.”

“So we're in good hands?” I smiled at Tony, knowing that we were.

“I'm just hoping you'll come back next week.”

And so we promised him that we would. And who knows, maybe he's onto something. One thing is for sure, I don't want to have the kind of squabbles these guys are having one year from now. Maybe seeing it up close and personal is as good a lesson as anything. In the meantime, I'm going to be praying for these marriages. Especially the ones who lost it tonight.

I can't imagine how miserable it would feel to be that hurt by the man you've promised to stay with the rest of your life. It was bad enough to face the Josh and Jenny thing. But at least I'm moving forward. Even so, it's a little scary to think of how things could get out of hand in such a short period of married life.

I guess I shouldn't have
been too surprised when, out of the blue, Josh showed up at my dorm yesterday (Valentine's Day). In fact, it's not even the first time he's done something like this. About three years ago, things didn't turn out so well for him. Fortunately, that was then and this is now. But I'm beginning to think that Josh is even more romantic than I am.

Even though he caught me off guard, I was totally jazzed to see him! So were several other girls who were coming home from class. He actually got some whistles and hoots as he stood there waiting in the lobby. of course, he looked more handsome than ever in his dark sweater and khaki pants. But with that gorgeous bouquet of red roses and killer smile, well, just let me say that I was so glad that he was here to see
me!
I wasted no time snatching him up and then took him to
my room, where we scrounged around to find a vase, which actually was a water pitcher. Then realizing I was dressed in college grunge, I sent him downstairs to wait as I hurried to spruce up a bit.

“You're not wearing
that
are you?” Jenny said when she saw me about to leave. I still had on my jeans, but at least I had a fresh top, a dash of perfume, and some lip gloss.

I held up my hands. “What's wrong–?”

“Everything!”

And within mere minutes, Jenny put me through a makeover that could one day land her a cable TV show called “Five-Minute Makeovers for Frazzled College Students.”

“Man, Jen,” I said as I stared into the mirror. “I think you just found your calling.”

“Well, it's Valentine's Day, you ninny. I couldn't let you go out with Josh looking like that.”

Just as I was admiring my transformation, Liz walked in (she never knocks) and gave me an appreciative nod.

“You clean up pretty good, Caitlin.”

Jenny had made me change into my pale blue cash-mere sweater that my parents gave me for Christmas, along with a little black skirt and boots. Jenny even put my hair up in this sweet little twist, then loaned me a pair of her cubic zirconia earrings that look like the real thing. I already had on my Christmas locket and, if I do say so myself, I looked ready for an evening of romance!

“What are you guys up to tonight?” I asked, feeling a
little guilty for being the only one with a guy on Valentine's Day (what a switch!), since I knew that Liz had recently broken up with Leon.

“We're two beautiful babes doing the town without men,” said Liz.

Jenny nodded. “Yeah, who needs 'em anyway.” Then she handed me a large manila envelope. At first I thought it was a Valentine, and I felt bad because I hadn't gotten her one. But it turned out to be our wedding invitation, done in beautiful calligraphy, complete with a small RSVP card. Jenny assured me that both were an actual envelope size.

“He said it's all ready to photocopy. Just don't get the originals wet or the ink will run.”

“That's nice,” said Liz, looking over my shoulder.

“It's fantastic,” I said as I admired the perfect letters. “How much do I owe this guy?”

Jenny waved her hand. “It was hardly anything. I already took care–”

“I can't let you pay–”

“That's enough from you,” she said, “Don't you realize your prince is downstairs waiting?” She slipped the pages back in the envelope and handed it to me. “You better let him have a look at this.”

So I thanked her and hugged them both, then dashed down to meet my prince. And we had the sweetest time. Josh thought ahead to make reservations at this Italian restaurant in the city, and it couldn't have been more perfect. By the time he brought me back to
the dorm, I felt like a real princess.

Today it was back to the daily college grind. Naturally it's midterms and the weather is gloomy and gray. Still, it was nice to come back to my room and see those cheerful red roses as a reminder of last night's wonderful evening.

And this may sound lame, but I feel I'm entitled to a few fun dates. I mean, most girls go out all the time, but it's like I've been waiting forever for this part of my life to come. Still, I am so glad I gave up dating back in high school. It makes everything with Josh seem wonderful and new and exciting. I think that's how it should be. At least for me. Now I need to study for tomorrow's test.

Last week had seemed longer than usual, and I was so ready to go home for the weekend. Although I wasn't ready to be confronted by both mothers (not at the same time, fortunately) over the fact that I have yet to find the perfect wedding gown. It's not as though I haven't been looking, but it's just that the ones I like are so expensive and yet even the pricey ones don't seem completely right either. I tried to explain to the “mothers” that I'm trying not to obsess about this. I'm trying to trust God to provide the right dress at the right time. But they were not getting it.

“You can't keep putting this off,” my mom told me yesterday. “Your dress is important, and you need to figure
it out.” And then she insisted we go to a couple of the small local shops. “I already called them, and both assured me that they have some new gowns.”

I tried to be hopeful and keep a positive attitude, but the “new” gowns didn't seem much different than any of the other ones I've seen.

“Maybe we should concentrate on veils,” Mom suggested after I gave up on dresses. So we spent about an hour trying on veils, which I think was actually helpful. At least I know the styles I like now. But how can you pick out a veil when you don't even have a dress?

“Maybe the right veil would lead you to the right dress,” my mom said as she held up her favorite choice, which was definitely not mine. Too princessy. Of course, I didn't tell her that.

“I think that's backward,” I said. “Kind of like getting a set of tires before you get a car. What if they don't fit?”

She seemed to accept this, and we called it a day.

But on the previous evening, Josh and I had eaten dinner with his parents. Naturally the topic of my dress had come up right away, and I could tell that Joy was disappointed in me, although I assured her that Mom and I could get lucky.

“How about the bridesmaids' dresses?” she asked in a dismal tone.

“It's under control,” I said. “Jenny met with a seam-stress last week, and they even went fabric shopping and got what I think will be perfect. She'll start working
on the dresses as soon as she gets everyone's measurements.”

“That's a relief.” Joy smiled. “How about shoes?”

“Jenny found the perfect shoes for the bridesmaids,” I said. “And she faxed a picture to Beanie, and Beanie approved.”

“And we won't need to worry about Chloe, since her opinions on bridesmaid shoes will be inconsequential.” She laughed. “I'm just glad she gave up wearing her Doc Martens with every single outfit.”

“It's part of her rock-star persona,” offered Josh.

“That's right,” said Stan. “And if anyone can pull off that look, it's Chloe.”

“And at least she's trying new styles,” I said. “She's really come a long ways since her Goth era.”

And while I was glad we'd moved the conversation from wedding dresses, I felt a little guilty that it was at Chloe's expense. Fortunately, Josh and I had to “eat and run” since it was marriage class night.

I'm actually glad that we're doing this class. It's made me aware of a number of things I hadn't even considered. Like when we took the compatibility quiz, I was surprised at how different our tastes were about certain things. Fortunately, we agreed on the things that matter most–things like not getting into debt, when to have children, religion, and politics.

But as Pastor Tony says, “It's the little things that can get you. Things like one person who leaves their dirty socks on the floor or the cap off the toothpaste.”
Fortunately, both Josh and I are fairly neat. But Tony did mention that the division of household chores can really put stress on a marriage. “Times have changed,” he said. “In most marriages, both partners work. It's not fair to expect the woman to put in forty hours a week and still carry the bulk of the household duties. Men today need to know how to do laundry or grocery shopping.”

But here's what stuck with me the most: Tony said that the best marriages are not the ones where partners have a fifty-fifty agreement. As in, “You do your share and I'll do mine.” He said that the Christian example of serving each other suggests that both partners should do 100 percent of the giving and helping. “The reason this works so well,” he explained, “is that we usually can't do all that we think, and to constantly give 100 percent would be tough. But if you make that your goal and then hit only 75 or even 60 percent, you've still gone more than halfway, which doesn't leave a gap in the middle.” I get that, and I'll try to keep it in mind when we're married.

It's been nice being home for spring break. Nice but busy. Naturally both my mom and Josh's had lots for me to do regarding wedding preparations. My mom had even made a list. I wouldn't be surprised if Josh's mother had made one too, but she never mentioned it.

She did, however, inquire on the status of the invitations. Now I was thinking, since they don't need to be sent out more than a month in advance, what's the big hurry? My guess is that she was more concerned about how they would look. Josh had assured her several times that we were both perfectly happy with the less-expensive direction we've taken. But he already warned me that his mom keeps referring to our invitations as “wedding flyers,” like maybe we plan to go tacking them onto all the power poles in town.

On Monday I asked my mom, “Do you think we should
look into getting the invitations printed this week?” She'd already spoken to my dad's secretary Mrs. Greenly, who said it would be no problem to have them printed there.

“That's probably not a bad idea,” said Mom. “How about if I give Mrs. Greenly a call this morning and ask when would be a good day?”

As it turned out, Mrs. Greenly felt that today was a good day, and that if I was willing to supervise the copying, since I used to work there, I could have the copy room–which includes copier, paper cutters, folders, and anything else I might need–all to myself from noon until three this afternoon. I'd already decided to use the white card stock that the ad company orders by the truckload. Not only is it the perfect weight, it couldn't be cheaper.

Mom came along to help, and between the two of us, it only took two hours to print, cut, and fold four hundred invitations. It was Mom's idea to do the extra ones, just in case. And since Josh's parents haven't given me their complete guest list, it's probably not a bad idea. Besides, they're so cheap that we can afford to throw them away.

“They look nice,” said my mom, after the first ones were all ready for their envelopes. But I could tell by the way she said it that she wasn't totally convinced.

“They look nice, but they're kind of boring?” I finished her sentence for her.

“I don't know…” She held up an invitation and studied it. “The calligraphy is beautiful, and I really like
that border of vines with the rose along the sides…but they're not very colorful.”

I laughed. “They're black and white, Mom.”

“Yes…”

“What's your point?” I asked, feeling slightly insulted by her criticism. “Do you think we should get out some felt pens and color–”

“That's it!”

I rolled my eyes. “Mom!”

“No, not felt pens. But what if I did just a bit of watercolor on it? Just to brighten it up.”

I considered this. It's not as if I want these invitations to be boring, but I don't want them to look like second grade either. “I guess you could do a sample and show me,” I finally said. “It's not like we have to use it.”

“That's right.”

So after we got everything printed and boxed and ready to go, I took my list of how much materials we'd used to the reception area (where I used to work), so I could write the ad company a check.

“Hi, Caitlin,” said my old boss. “Congratulations on your engagement.”

I smiled at her. “Thanks. I just printed the invitations.” I showed her a sample and she nodded. “My mom has some ideas for sprucing them up.”

“They're nice.”

“Here's how much stuff we used.” I handed her my list. “I didn't total it, but I figured you'd have a calculator.”