I Do (5 page)

“But nothing's decided yet. I still need to talk to Josh. In fact, maybe I should let him handle it since he lives here and sees Tony every day.”

“Good thinking.” She smiles. “I'm sure you're busy with school. Maybe you should just delegate everything you can for this wedding.”

“But I want to be involved.”

“Of course. But you've got lots of people who love you, Caitlin. You might as well let us help.”

“But what if Josh's mom takes over?”

Aunt Steph laughs. “Between your mom and me, and hey, we can even pull your grandmother into the fray, I think Mrs. Miller will have her work cut out for her.”

We talk some more and finally Aunt Steph encourages me to start making lists. “And talk to your parents about the finances. You'll have no idea what you can or cannot do until you know what kind of budget is involved.”

“Good point.”

And so this evening I sit down with my parents and asked them about money. “I hate to even bring this up,” I begin somewhat apologetically. “But Aunt Steph says we need to discuss it.”

“She's right,” says my dad. Then he gets this sad expression. “And I wish I could say that I've got it all covered, honey. But I've been doing a little research on the cost of weddings…” He shakes his head.

“It's unbelievable what a wedding costs these days,” says my mom. “I had no idea.”

“What does a wedding cost?” I ask, realizing that perhaps I should've checked this out already.

“According to several web sites, the average wedding is about twenty-five grand.” My dad seems to be studying my face now.

“Twenty-five grand?” I'm sure my eyes are popping out of my head just now. “Twenty-five thousand dollars?” I repeat the freaking figure one more time just to make sure I'm getting this right. “For one single day? Not even a whole day, just a few hours? Man, that sounds more like the down payment on a house or a couple of years' worth of tuition. Are you sure, Dad?”

“And that's just the average cost. I guess a lot of weddings are even more.”

“Maybe Josh is onto something,” I say suddenly. “Maybe we should elope.”

“No, honey.” My mom frowns. “We'll figure this out somehow.”

“But no way are we spending that much money,” I say. “I think that's crazy.”

“If you look at how it all breaks down,” says Dad, “you'll see that it all manages to add up.”

“But I don't need to have everything. We can keep
things simple. I mean, like the dress. I've heard they go for thousands, but I'd never want a dress like that.”

My mom sighs. “That's a relief.”

“And we can cut corners,” I continue. “Elise Curtis got her wedding cake from a grocery store.”

“Oh, we don't need to be that cheap,” says my dad. “Besides, I plan to invite associates from the office, Caitlin. Everyone there still remembers you.”

“Dad, twenty-five grand is outrageous.”

My mom nods. “We don't have that kind of money just sitting around.”

“We've been talking about refinancing our house.”

“Not for a wedding, Dad!”

“No, not just for a wedding,” Mom explains. “It would be for paying of some bills and consolidating our finances, and there'd probably be enough left over for an inexpensive wedding.” She looks slightly deflated. “Oh, we'd love to give you the best wedding ever, honey. You know we would.”

“That's true,” agrees Dad. “If anyone deserves a big, fancy wedding, it's you, sweetheart.”

“I don't want a big fancy wedding. I just want it to be nice and something we'll always remember.”

“We thought you'd understand,” says Dad. “You've always been a sensible girl.”

“I hope that Josh's mother understands,” says Mom.

“If she doesn't, maybe she'd like to chip in about ten grand or so,” Dad suggests with a twinkle in his eye.

My mom socks him in the arm. “You're terrible, Mike!”

“Well, Joy needs to understand what we can and cannot do.”

“Don't worry about it,” I tell them. “I'll warn Josh that this wedding has to stay within a very strict budget. You tell me what can be spent, and we'll stick to it.”

“Okay,” says my dad. “We'll work some numbers out on paper and let you know.”

“And really,” I assure them. “I know it's all going to be just fine. God knows what we need for a wedding, and I believe He'll provide for it. And if we end up repeating our vows in the backyard with hot dogs for a reception, it's fine with me.”

“Good grief, I hope not,” says Mom. “I'd have to hire a landscaper and-”

“Stop, stop!” I hold up my hands. “I was just kidding.”

I explain the financial situation to Josh as he drives me back to school.

“You're kidding!” he says after I tell him the cost of the average wedding. “Twenty-five thousand bucks? That's insane.”

“I know. That's what I thought too. But after my parents told me, I did a little research of my own, and it's true. You look at an itemized list, and it all adds up pretty fast. Of course, I think there are lots of ways to save money and cut corners.”

“I hope so.”

“And if you ask me, weddings have gotten pretty commercialized, and everyone's trying to get rich off of the poor unsuspecting couple.” I shake my head. “It's really awful if you think about it.”

“What?”

“Well, about half of the marriages will end in divorce. Some only a couple of years after the wedding. Can you imagine shelling out that kind of money for a wedding that ends up in divorce court? What a waste.”

Josh reaches over and puts his hand on my arm. “It'll never happen to us, Caitlin.”

I nod. “But just the same, it makes you feel kind of sick to think of all the couples who invest that kind of money in a wedding and then don't even make it in a marriage.”

“That's one of the reasons that Tony is starting to teach marriage classes. He invited us to participate in the first one.”

“When does it start?”

“In January.”

“Does he know what days it will be?”

“No, but I have a feeling he could work it into something that fits your schedule.”

“Like maybe during the weekend?”

“Yeah, and that'll give me an even better excuse for coming to pick you up all the time.” He frowns now. “And that reminds me, I won't be able to make it next weekend. Friday is a no-school day, and the youth group is doing a two-day workathon for FAD.” (Of course, I know
what he means since this is the acronym I made up several years ago. FAD stands for Food At the Dump, and it's our church's organization for sending money to the mission in Mexico to be used specifically for the kids who live at the dump.)

“Hey, that's cool, Josh.”

“You don't mind?”

“Of course not. I think it's awesome that you're raising money for the kids. Besides, a weekend on campus will give me time to catch up on my schoolwork.”

“You mean you're behind?”

“Not exactly. But I don't mind getting a little ahead either.”

“Well then, I wanted to ask if you could make it for the ski retreat. It's the first weekend after New Year's. I thought may be you could play the role of the girls' counselor.”

I start to giggle as I recall a certain ski retreat that happened about five years ago.

“What's so funny about that?” he asks.

“Do you remember that ski retreat when we first hooked up in high school?”

“Do I remember?” He laughs. “I still have good dreams about it.”

“Yeah, but as I recall you really set me back on my search for God. I was trying to figure out my life, and you totally derailed me with your passionate make-out sessions.”

He sighs. “Hey, I could get into that again.”

And the next thing I know, he pulls off the road, and we are making out like a couple of sixteen-year-olds. Finally, we're both breathing so hard that the windows are fogged up, and I realize that this has to stop.

“Josh,” I say in a quiet but firm voice.

“I know.” He pulls himself away and starts the engine again. “But oh, was it worth it.”

“If we keep that up, we'll have to elope,” I tell him in what I hope he knows is a nonserious voice.

“Works for me.”

“I guess it could save money.”

“Would you even consider it?” He looks slightly alarmed now.

“No, silly. We have too many family and friends who are looking forward to this. And I am too, Josh. Really, I've always dreamed of this day.”

“Yeah. Me too. Okay, let's agree-no eloping.”

“Okay, but back to the wedding budget, Josh. I don't want to be a wet blanket, but we need to get this fact through to your mom. Our wedding has to stay within the budget my parents are comfortable with. Unfortunately, I think this means no reception at the country club.”

“Unfortunately?” He laughs. “That sounds like great news to me.”

“Well, your parents may be disappointed.”

“Too bad. This is our wedding, Caitlin. We get to have some say on the decisions.”

Finally, we're back in front of my dorm, and it's time to say good-bye again. And once again it's hard to let go.

It's like the closer we get, the more we spend time together, the harder it becomes to be apart.

“Someday we won't be saying good-bye like this all the time,” I tell him as I finally pull away from his warm hug.

“It won't be too soon for me, Caitlin.”

One more kiss and we go our separate ways.

Jenny's been sick
the last two days, and I can't help but think it has to do with her eating habits. I decided to confront her on this tonight.

“I'm worried about you,” I tell her after I bring her a hot bowl of tomato soup that I made for her myself down in the kitchen. Okay, it was from a can, but it took me some time. But now she refuses to touch it.

“It's just the flu,” she says.

I sit on her bed and put my hand on her shoulder. “Jenny, I think it's more than the flu.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I think you're not eating.”

I can tell by the way she looks away, avoiding my eyes, that I must be right. “It's true, isn't it, Jenny?”

She just shrugs.

“Come on, Jenny, I know you. I went through this whole
thing with you in highs school. Be honest with me. Okay?”

Then she looks at me, but there are tears in her eyes. “I thought I could handle it. I thought that rooming with you would help me.”

“You mean you've been doing this for a while?”

“No, not really. It started in the summer.”

“But why?”

“Why?” She swipes at the tears on her face. “If I knew why, I probably wouldn't be doing it, would I?”

“Just tell me what's going on. How did it begin?”

“It began the same way it always begins,” she says in a flat voice. “With me.”

“I know. But what triggered it?”

She tries to laugh, but it's not convincing. “My body triggered it. It started in August when I went with my parents to stay in their time-share in San Diego. I'd had a pretty stressful summer…you know, working and deciding whether I wanted to transfer here. So I was ready for a little downtime. About the first day there, I was at the pool with my mom, just lying around and trying to get a little tan going since I'd barely been outside all summer and was as white as a ghost. Then my mom makes this comment about how I'd put on a few pounds.”

Suddenly I want to scream. How could her mother possibly say something like that after all Jenny's gone through? But I manage to keep my mouth shut and just wait for her to continue.

“Well, I looked down at my big white thighs and realized that she was right, and I decided-”

“Jenny,” I interrupt her. “You have
never
had big thighs.”

“No, really, you should've seen them, Cate. I was like this big, white beached whale.”

I stand up now, really angry. Indignantly angry. “Jenny! You are so wrong. Your body image is totally twisted.” And then I start taking off my outer clothes. Okay, I guess I am flipping out a little. But it's like I can't help it. Her words just got to me. Finally, I am down to my underwear.

“Okay, Jenny,” I say as I stand there looking ridiculous. “Look at me. All right, can you see me clearly? I have put on like
fifteen pounds
since high school. Fifteen pounds. Okay? And even though I'd really like to take them off, and by the way, I can't believe I'm standing here exposing my flabby body to someone as skinny as you are, but it's to make a point. And that's to let you know that if I never take off this weight, if I go to my wedding still weighing what I weigh now, well, I'm going to be just fine.”

“You look great.”

“How can you say that?” I demand as I go and stand in front of the full-length mirror on our door. “I mean, look at me, Jenny. This is the most I've ever weighed, and you probably don't even weight a hundred pounds right now.”

“It's different.”

I turn around, and despite the fact that she doesn't fell well, I pull her out of bed and make her stand in front of the mirror. “Yeah, you bet it's different.”

She has on a T-shirt and boxers that hang loosely
over skinny little legs. I reach over and pull up her T-shirt to reveal a caved-in stomach and ribs that are already showing. “Can't you see the difference here?” Then I actually turn sideways to reveal my less-than-flat tummy. I even make it stick out a little, just for effect. Okay, it's humiliating. But desperate times call for desperate measures. I look at her face and see that there seems to be a trace of recognition.

“Okay, Jenny, tell me the truth. Do you think I'm fat?”

“No, you're not fat, Caitlin.”

“Plump?”

She shakes her head. “You look good. Really, you do. Oh, I can see you've put on a little weight. But it actually looks kind of good on you.”

“Okay, whatever. But tell me this: which one of us is fatter?”

She doesn't answer.

“Jenny, I want to know. I'm not humiliating myself like this just for the fun of it. Which one of us is heavier? Which one of us could actually use a little workout plan?” And really, as I stand there looking at my midsection, I want to cry too. How have I gotten so out of shape? But that's beside the point. “Come on, Jenny. Can't you see the difference here?”