It all started with a bag of potato chips.
As cheesy as it sounds, my mother was about to reach for a bag of barbeque chips while another man was.
Their hands touched the plastic foil, and they looked into each others eyes…
Six months later, they were about to get married.
I didn’t know how to deal with the situation all that well. My dad had died from heart failure when I was two, but I still felt some sort of connection with my dad. For some reason, he was the only man I could ever imagine with my mom. Thinking of both of them together made me hope that one day my dad could rise from the grave, and we could be one big happy family.
Eighteen hours before the wedding, I was unsure of what to do. My mother had insisted that I would be the maid of honor, even though I told her I didn’t want to. I didn’t understand why she would want me to be there even though I didn’t support the marriage at all.
I was lying in a bed at the fancy Baymore Hotel, overlooking Lake Michigan in Chicago. We lived in a suburb fifteen minutes from the city, and every time we visited the metropolis my mother would always point how beautiful the Baymore Hotel was. I agreed with her, marveling at the Victorian hotel anytime we passed by, with its grand architecture and the rich people who always stayed there.
The ceiling of my room in the hotel was plain white, not marvelous like the outside of the building. I couldn’t go to sleep, and I had started to sweat under the thick covers.
I had convinced myself to try to participate in the wedding, but each moment it inched closer, I lost all hope that I wouldn’t lose my composure. I had tried not to make my mother angry at me, especially since she was turning into a Bridezilla, but I wasn’t quite sure what to do anymore.
My mom had been so caught up into the festivities of the wedding, that I was pretty sure that she’d forgotten that I’d existed. Before she met her fiancé, Joel, I could talk to her all the time, just me and her. She once prided herself in being a single and successful mom, capable of running a bank downtown and taking care of her fifteen year old daughter. Then love took over her, and she became a whole different person.
She didn’t hear me when she was in the room with Joel, because all of her attention was put on Joel. She talked to Joel three times a day: when she woke up, at lunchtime, and before she went to bed.
Joel worked at a company where he handled foreign business, so mom was often sullen when he was away. When he came back, however, they would spend as much time as they possibly could together.
I was left home alone many times a week while Joel and Mom went on rendezvous. One day he proposed, and then I was barely ever with my mom. Mom stayed over at Joel’s almost every day.
I stared back up at the room’s ceiling, trying to make myself go to sleep, or at least close my eyes so I wouldn’t feel as tired.
But it was three A.M. and I hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep.
I imagined if my father was at the wedding. What would he say?
“Cherie, you should just be happy that your mom is once again happy.” That was what I pictured him first saying, but I blew that whole comment off. Sure mom was happy, but she was just as happy when she hadn’t been dating/marrying anyone.
“I loved your mother, but I’m glad she’s finally moving on.” I groaned. Why was the dad in my imagination saying really stupid things? Wasn’t he supposed to agree with his one and only daughter?
I blinked fast and tried to get my Dad’s opinions out of my mind. The hotel room was once again a black hole, except for the white ceiling which you could see a little.
“It’s not going to be hard,” The one part of my brain kept telling myself, “You just have to walk down the aisle with a bouquet of flowers. That’s it.”
The other part of my brain didn’t agree.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
The Baymore Applegate Hall was covered with white roses, white streamers, and white bows. A white piano sat in the corner, and I was wearing a white dress, that was, of course, not as pretty as my mother’s. I was pretty sure that Billy Idol’s “White Wedding,” was going to start playing.
I quickly peaked back into the room before going back to the bride and bridesmaid’s dressing room.
My mom was crying as they fitted the dress on her. She had gone full out with the dress; she had bought a special corset with the dress that matched and had a six foot train. My Aunt Shelly was trying to put mascara on her, but mom kept on blabbering on and on about Joel and crying even harder.
“I can’t….believe…that…,” she said in between sobs. “Joel and…I.. …are…..finally…getting..married. This is…the greatest…day of my…life.”
She didn’t look like she was having the greatest day of her life. You could tell she was stressed, really stressed. I bet that if the caterers called her one more time and asked her about the main course, she would’ve had a hissy fit.
I sat down in a chair by a long mirror, and looked over my simple outfit. No one was going to care that I was in the wedding with my mother, so why bother? I had a white corsage daisy pinned to the top of my dress, and I took it off and threw it on the floor. I felt tears build up in my eyes, but no one saw that I was sad. Everyone was too busy running around the room, grabbing curlers, eyeshadow, lipstick, and stilettos.
I looked back at my mom and saw her fully dressed in her ensemble. She had gotten the hem of the dress rhinestoned, and it shimmered under the bright lights. Her red hair was pulled back into an up-do, pinned back by a piece of ribbon attached to a small comb. The comb was going to connect to the long veil she had bought.
The bridesmaids, aunts, and cousins all stared at her, their mouths all formed perfectly plump Os. I was the only one who wasn’t excited, hoping that someone could just dump some ink or something on the dress so she wouldn’t have to wear it anymore.
Then the wedding planner yelled into the room. “Time for pictures!”
Everyone scrambled out of the room except for Aunt Shirley. She was organizing her makeup into different bags and boxes. After she was done, she seemed to finally realize that I was actually in the room.
She picked up her supplies and stood up. “Are you coming?” She looked sort of sympathetic, but she’d never know what I felt.
“Yeah, in a couple minutes. I just have to,” I decided to lie, “put on some more eyeliner.”
“Ok,” she nodded, then hurried out of the room.
I was now alone, standing amongst wilting flowers that made the room look like a graveyard. I took a look at everything sitting out, and then I knew what I wanted to do.
Mother’s veil was sitting in the corner, hanging from a moving mirror. It was five feet long, and looked like a bunch of feathers and ribbons had thrown up all over it. I remember her saying that she had it custom made and it cost around $500.
I went over, and with my bare hands, ripped the veil to shreds. I tore it apart, leaving it in hundreds of pieces on the carpeted floor. It looked like that fake snow they use in movies, covering half of the floor. I smiled to myself a little, before grabbing my purse and backing away from the mess I created.
I ran out through the door to the dressing room, through the back of Applegate Hall, and towards the lobby of the Baymore.
People were staring at me, but I had no time to look as I burst out the front doors of the hotel. I stood on the sidewalk and waited for a taxi to pull to the curb.
When a yellow cab pulled to the side, driven by a guy with bald hair, I rummaged through my purse and found some money.
I opened the back door and thrust a twenty dollar bill at the man. “Can you take me to Williams Beach?”
He grabbed the bill and nodded, before he put the car in gear and headed down the street.
Sometimes you have to run away from things that scare you.
Thanks for reading! Hope you liked it!
Write sooner and yes post it too. haha 
