Hurricane Wedding #2

Forty-five minutes late, we arrived at the church, but the limo got there before the

neighbor’s car with my mother. When people saw me in the back of the church, someone alerted the organist “She’s here.”

  “Here Comes the Bride” swelled from the organ, the priest stood at attention on the altar; my groom, Richard, and his best man Bob stood beside the priest. The few people who had braved the storm to come to the church stood and expectantly looked toward me, but my mother hadn’t arrived yet. So I waited.

            Again the organist played “Here Comes the Bride.” Again I waited. The priest motioned to me to start down the aisle. I shook my head “no.” I would not get married without my mother in attendance. When “Here comes the bride” played for the third time, the best man leaned over to my groom and said, “If they play that one more time and she doesn’t come down, we’re getting out of here.”

            My mother finally arrived with the neighbors. Her corsage fell from her dress as she exited the car. It landed in the gutter and sailed away on the river of water rushing to the storm drain. Neighbor Jim ran after it and caught the flowers before they disappeared into the sewer. He hurriedly plopped them onto Mom’s shoulder and half-carried, half-dragged her up the steps to the church vestibule. A waiting usher took her arm and ran her down the aisle to her seat, she holding her corsage in place, water dripping from it down the front of her dress. On the forth rendition of “Here Comes the Bride.” I finally walked down the aisle on the arm of my brother.          

....to be continued