Primrose Somette looked deep into her mirror. The reflection staring back turned her nervous expression into one of contentment. Her heart flustered inside her. Today was the day.
Her day.
"Something old," her best friend and maid-of-honour, Gladys, mused as she fixed Mrs. Somette's dangling crystal earrings. Prim's mother had wanted her daughter to wear them on her wedding day.
"Something new..." Prim trailed her hands down her white dress. Her fingers stopped to feel the rhinestones embedded in the midriff of the princess-style wedding gown. After eons of searching, she has finally found the perfect dress. She couldn't wait for Gus to see her in it.
"Something borrowed," Gladys chimed, tapping the ornate silver bracelet on the bride's hand. "Gonna need that back, by the way." She said so in a tone that made both women laugh.
"And something blue." Gladys pushed back Primrose's soft black curls and secured a simple silver necklace with a single blue gem. Tanzanite, if memory served her right.
"How do I look?" asked Primrose.
"Simply divine, baby. Or as you French would say: magnifique." Gladys beamed like a proud mother.
"Je vous vais cherche finìr à garçon, mon amíe," Prim said with a smirk.
"Honey, I'm from Frenchtown, New Jersey. Not Frenchtown, France."
Prim giggled. She was unusually giddy. Maybe the nervousness was getting to her. Well, that and the few sips of wine she and Gladys had sneaked. "Just know I'll miss the men."
"Wait until Gus gets a load of that." Gladys raised an eyebrow.
"Oh, Glad-"
"Are you two ready?" Mrs. Somette's head peeked through Prim's open bedroom door. The bride shot a brief glare at Gladys who had forgotten to bolt the door.
"Oui, mama," replied Prim in her native tongue.
"Hurry along then. You cannot be late to your own wedding. Aunt Irene and I are leaving now. Your car is waiting downstairs. Be down in five minutes or he'll leave." Prim nodded, and the missus motioned downstairs then left.
"Why thank you, mother. How considerate of you to point out how lovely I look on my wedding day." Prim rolled her eyes.
"Quit complaining, bridezilla. Let's go." Gladys pushed Prim towards the exit and lightly smacked her rear end. The bride turned and pulled her exaggerated surprise face. Gladys held her hands up in the air, winked and said, "Just prepping you for tonight, madame."
Butterflies in Prim's stomach turned into storms on the way to the cathedral. What if she wasn't ready? What if Gus was the wrong man for her? What if her parents were right not to like him in the first place? She believed they did not like him because of their racial differences; they wanted an African descendant. She glanced over to her friend who gave her a thumbs-up and goofy smile.
Both women groaned as the car swerved out of control for a moment, their heads hitting the roof. A curse managed to slip out of Gladys.
"Watch your driving, okay bud?" The New Jeesey accent she tried so much to hide was heavily ladened in those words.
"Sorry, ma'am," the driver called back. His speech sounded slurry and the bride wondered where on earth her mother had found this train wreck.
Gladys said no more. She instead massaged where her head had come into contact with the car roof. Prim resisted to avoid ruining her hair. She took in the sight of her maid-of-honour. The flowy pink dresses she had picked for her bridesmaids made the otherwise rowdy Gladys appear feminine for once in her life; her red hair made her look fiercer. Prim was proud of how she'd managed to clean her up. The red needed to go.
"Gosh, that lousy son of a gun. Can you believe the people they let behind the wheel these days?"
Prim did not get a chance to answer. Before she knew it, she was bombarded by an array of sensations. Glass chorused as it shattered. Gladys screamed.
Pain.
Excruciating pain.
Almost as fast as it had appeared, the pain vanished. The world turned dark.
