Of Lorenz Theory & Love

HMV: Introspection, and a Lohengrin Processional

50: HMV: Introspection, and a Lohengrin Processional

5 pm, Vera Manor, Macy's Bedroom

Fifteen weeks pregnant, Macy had finally entered the blissful glow of second trimester pregnancy. She could finally stomach more than a slice of peanut butter-covered toast and tablespoonfuls of coconut, and for that, she was grateful. Luckily for her, it was just in time for the wedding, which was, as a matter of fact, occurring in exactly one hour. Today.

Macy looked outside her window; she saw Maggie ordering people about, telling them which way to turn, how to reach the garden through the front doors, and so on. She really would make an excellent professional wedding planner someday, Macy thought to herself, if ever Maggie took that route. Macy had already offered her payment for her services but Maggie turned it down, stating that the best reward would be an excellent time had, and a healthy niece or nephew, besides. It was still too early to determine the gender, but Macy had a feeling, based on her cravings (fresh fruit, sweets) and aversions (rotisserie chicken), that it was sure to be a girl. Whenever she broached the subject to Harry, he deflected, saying that as long as they had a healthy, live baby, any gender was perfectly fine by him.

5:30 pm, Vera Manor, Macy's Bedroom

Macy carefully donned her foundation makeup, blush, and lip moisturizer. She added a touch of gold-colored eyeshadow, creating the illusion of a curved shadow with accompanying deep-bronze shading, and surveyed the results (Maggie had found her a makeup tutorial online). Finding this to her satisfaction, she unzipped the nearby garment bag and carefully removed her empire-waisted, diaphanous wedding gown. She unbuttoned and unlaced and unzipped the fabric, and stepped in, buttoning and lacing and zipping herself in. Macy stared at herself in the upright ellipsis-shaped mirror for a few minutes, absorbing the enormity of her decision to make Harry the Whitelighter her husband.

She pondered this thought, which unavoidably led her to think of her mother, Marisol. Had she, too, looked at herself in this very mirror, wearing a pearl-colored floor-length gown on her wedding day? Had her mother been blissfully happy, or scared and anxious of the future? Did Marisol have any idea what would soon befall her, her husband, Macy, Mel, and Maggie? Macy took a deep breath. For most of her life, she had thought that Marisol had abandoned her and her father Dexter—walked out on them abruptly when she was a toddler. Even when she was in grade school, she thought of one day confronting her mother, asking how on earth she could leave Macy behind as a baby; but then, a simultaneous thought would always emerge—what if you weren't good enough for Marisol? What if, at age 2, she took one look at you, realized you disappointed her, and—she left?

Macy now knew this was not the case; Marisol had to leave, due to the necromancer agreement that kept her daughter above the ground, rather than six feet under. There were always lingering feelings of guilt though, that her very existence had forced two happy people, Marisol and Dexter, apart, creating additional lives under the secrecy of shadows. Survivor's guilt, Macy thought to herself. Turning to her side to view her shifted silhouette, she saw a small bump that she hadn't noticed just one week before. Baby M, she mused, touching the area protectively. She and Harry were nowhere near deciding on a name, but Macy was sure that she wanted the baby to share the first letter of its name with its mother and future aunts. Marisol had made the ultimate sacrifice to save her, she realized. Macy often heard news stories of how mothers had a sudden rush of adrenaline and would rescue their children from the most insurmountable of situations. A mother's love is instinctual, and truly knows no bounds.

5:40 pm, Vera Manor, Macy's Bedroom

After makeup, the next order of business was adhering to the adage "something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue." Her "something new" was her wedding gown; her "something old" was an heirloom locket photo of her father Dexter, worn across her wrist in bracelet form.