Letters to Adonis

Chapter:: Twenty-Two

Dear Adonis,

The day of our wedding, August 7th, is a whirlwind of loud noises and complaints. It was like everybody wanted me stressed out on our day, the one day we gathered everyone to make it about us. And yet I had to deal with everybody’s problems. The first was about the flowers for the maid of honor, which was Elody. She forgot to tell them what time they had to be delivered, so she ran off to go handle that.

I quietly reminded myself to treat Elody to a spa day or something once you and I get back from our honeymoon. These thoughts were the ones that kept me calm while I was getting my hair and makeup done. The stylist was twisting my hair into a neat bun on the top of my head and giving me a natural look with the makeup.

The rest of my family stayed hidden in their respective corners of the house. I think my dad told them to chill out until we were ready to ride to the church. We don’t talk as she washes my hair and curls it and does whatever else she does. I’m staring at the ground, thinking over and over of my new name. Ariel Rose Johnson. I couldn’t help the smile that found its way on my face. I kept writing the name over and over, with loopy letters and a heart over the ‘I’ in my name.

It was a nice peaceful hour or two just sitting there in my robe getting pampered before the big day. We decided it was going to be an afternoon wedding and it would be held inside but the reception will be outside.

When my hair is done and my makeup has been laid on, my family and I pile up in our cars to drive over to the local church. You were probably already there. And usually brides get ready there but I wanted the memory to stay in my room, as weird as that sounds. It was the same room that I spent hours laughing with friends as well as crying over boys or stupid situations. It was the room I grew up in, and I thought I’d have one last great memory in there before moving in with you.

It’s just my dad and I in the car going to the church. Sure, it would have saved gas if we all piled up uncomfortably so we would only have to take two cars instead of three, but I didn’t want to hear my family try to make this day about them. The short car ride wasn’t awkward; it was just a comfortable silence. My dad looked really nice in his tux, and he didn’t have bags under his eyes anymore. It was nice to see him looking relaxed and at peace with himself.

“So, big day.” My dad starts off. And like I said the silence wasn’t awkward or weird or anything but I just start laughing like this big weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Apparently once I start laughing I can’t stop, and after he gives me a weird look my dad starts laughing too. By the time we come up to the church we both have tears in our eyes and I think it’s because mom isn’t here today. She should be up here in the front seat, giving me advice and telling me small snippets of what her wedding day was like. But instead we had to miss her like she was dead because she might as well be, since we can’t take care of her.

“I wish mom was here.” I state the thought out loud even though every fiber in my body tells me that he must be thinking the same exact thing.

“I know, kiddo. But we’ll have a great day and take lots of pictures to send to her and she can look at them when she’s lucid.” My dad is looking out the window at the people walking into the church as he wipes his eyes.

“I’m sorry I’m leaving you alone in that big house.” I guess this is honesty hour, right before our wedding. The thought gave me butterflies.

He shrugs like it’s no big deal. “I’m selling the house and I’m getting a single bedroom apartment.” I wanted to plead with him and ask him why he would do that when we had so many memories in that house. But that was the thing, the house was filled with memories of people who moved on. I could see the desire of wanting a smaller place to make new memories.