August 15, 2013
"Where do you want this?" I asked, coming into the kitchen with a huge box balanced in my arms.
"Put it over there honey." Mom gestured at the table, not looking up from the photo album in her hands.
"Which one is that?" Mom was a big photo album person and there were five billion of them around the house. The box I'd just staggered in with was probably full of them too. I'd mentioned being bored this morning when I called her and then got roped into helping her clean out the garage. Mikey was smart and had gone to soccer practice early, leaving me alone to help her while Dad and Myles "bonded." Lazy fuckers, if you ask me.
"It's from my wedding." She turned it so I could see the picture she was looking at, one of her and me and Dad.
"Oh God, that dress was awful." I had been stuffed into some floral monstrosity with a lace bib.
"The 90s were a very dark time." She shook her head, pointing at her own wedding dress. "That thing is fucking hideous."
"Yeah but wasn't it the happiest day of your life?" I batted my eyelashes sarcastically.
"Was yours?"
"Nah, happiest day was the one where he didn't get arrested because of me." I flipped the page. "Oh my God, look at Duff." His blond hair was so teased it probably added another foot to his already impressive height. But his face looked swollen and pale.
"That was right after his pancreas blew, I think. You two were so cute at that wedding."
"I was in love with him for years. Even after he married Susan." I shook my head. "My very first rock star crush." On the next page there was a shot of me dancing with Duff at the reception. That was really where my crush had started, at that damn wedding reception...
"Minnie? Mina Jean, where are you?" My grandma's sensible blue pumps appeared on the other side of the table cloth. I must have made a noise, because she bent down to look under the table I was hiding under. "What are you doing under there sweetheart?"
"I'm hiding." I sounded bratty but I didn't care. I was pissed beyond all belief.
"Why are you hiding?" Carefully, she pulled me out from under the table. "We have to get started soon."
"I'm mad." I crossed my arms over my chest, my bottom lip sticking out.
"Is it because of the wedding? Oh honey, I thought you were okay with that."
"It's not Cissy. It's this!" I tugged on the long blonde braid my hair had been trapped in. "Mama makes me wear it like this and I hate it." Grandma looked at me, then wrapped her arm around my shoulders.
"Come on love, we'll get this straightened out." She led me to the room where my soon to be step-mother was anxiously checking her reflection.
"MJ, where have you been baby?" She said, seeing me come in.
"She was hiding because she doesn't like her braid." Grandma said, standing behind me with her hands on my shoulders. She must have mouthed something to her, because she stood up and pushed me into the seat gently.
"Then let's fix that." She undid the braid, letting my hair fall around my shoulders. I refused to cut it and it hung almost all the way down my back at that point. That's why my mother always made me wear that braid, to keep it neat. "That's much better, isn't it?" I just nodded, my pouting forgotten. Forgive me, I was nine.
After my hair issue was dealt with, the excitement of watching my dad and Cissy get married returned and I practically skipped down the aisle. I actually do remember Jacky scooping me up to get me to stop dancing while they were saying their vows. I was just too happy to contain it.
