The Serendipitous Life of Ruby Slippers (Chapter Ten - Romantic Comedy Novel)

“Wedding jitters are a common occurrence in brides-to-be,” at least that’s what I read in a recent article in Bride Magazine. And although it gave me comfort to know I wasn’t alone, I still would rather not be a member of this “Wedding Jitter” group.

My growing fear as the wedding approached was resulting in endless nights awake staring at the ceiling, trying to get comfortable in my “soon to be married” skin.

I’m lived with a constant gnawing feeling in my gut that I had given up trying to resolve, similar to the one you get when you leave the house, and wonder whether you’ve shut the coffee pot off or not. I try to shake it off by keeping busy with small tasks related to the wedding, like wrapping the bridesmaid's gifts, which were a wine glass with Stanley and my name and our wedding date etched into the glass. My mother said it was a gift that anyone would treasure for years to come.

I even ask for extra hours at work, thinking that might keep my mind off things. Eveey told me all brides get a bit squirrelly as their wedding neared. She said her sister behaved like a real bridezilla in the days leading up to her wedding, ordering everyone around and throwing tantrums when something wasn’t done her way.

She said she was surprised her sister’s fiance even showed up for the wedding.

I told Eveey I didn’t think I was being bridezilla-ish, just a little scared as the date drew closer.

I then added that this feeling was supposedly normal based on an article I read in Bride magazine.

Eveey grimaced and rolled her eyes, declaring she was never getting married. She also suggested I talk to Stanley about how I felt, but I couldn’t imagine how that conversation would go. I mean we really didn’t talk about personal feelings like that, except for that one day in the park — but that never happened again.

And, during the time I spent with Stanley recently, he didn’t seem to have much time for idle talk — maybe he was feeling wedding jitters too and was too embarrassed to tell me.

So other than confiding in Eveey, I kept my feelings to myself.

One thing was certain, with each passing day, I did more of a 180 from the excitement I felt on the night of our engagement. I even fantasized about buying a wig and fleeing town before the big day. At least that’s the scenario I played out in my head one night as I lay awake in bed listening to the crickets chirp.

When I wasn’t at work or busy with wedding tasks, I would distract myself by diving into recipes from my mother’s Woman’s Day magazines.

Our kitchen turned into a make-shift bakery piled high with turtle brownies, strawberry cream cheese muffins, salted caramel cinnamon rolls, and loaves of zucchini pear bread. Thankfully, I had the willpower not to eat what I baked, or I would have needed an emergency wedding dress alteration.

Between work and baking, the days soon wound down until it was the night before my wedding. Once again, I found myself in bed, even more, awake than usual, with my stomach in a vice grip. And though I could logically understand why I felt unnerved, my life was changing in a big way, the feeling in the pit of my stomach was really unsettling. It was akin to dread. But who has dread before their wedding?

I was certain Bride Magazine or Modern Bride would have an article on the subject, but I couldn’t find one — I even checked back issues at the library and searched online. Why weren’t women talking about this strange feeling, and why were the romance novels and movies not portraying it either?

At least one area still lined up with the romance novels, and that was Stanley. He was such a nice, polite person, and I felt truly blessed he chose to marry me. I’m sure he could have chosen any of the other girls he dated— he never talked about his past girlfriends, but I’m sure he had plenty —, and I was the one he picked.

As far as my history of male relationships was concerned, well, I didn’t have a history of male real action ships... Unless you include my father, and that was a very long time ago. I had very few memories of my time with him.

Other than that, I had a male manager at the store, Mr. Hutchinson, but that relationship only amounted to a periodic “hello, Mr. Hutchinson” when he happened to walk past my register during my shift. Which was not a lot of field time to get any real night.

I did have a few male customers at Bertson’s inquire about my marital status before while I checked out their groceries, but nothing ever came of it. In hindsight, I think they were making small talk or had other intentions. I learned that the hard way. When I answered one man’s inquiry into my current “Status,” that I was currently single, he leaned in with interest causing my heartbeat to quicken from my interest, only to have him ask me if I ever did any babysitting

In truth, in the grand scheme of things, my relationship with Stanley was the entirety of my male experience. And after two months logged, I still felt like I had no real insight into the male psyche.

As I lay there anguishing over this reality, desperate for a solution to my unsettling feelings, I thought about how uncomfortable Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Darcy’s relationship was in the beginning. And their love was infamous.

Suddenly it dawned on me that our relationship was going to develop in just the same way. I breathed out a heavy sigh at the thought of this, feeling the knot in my stomach loosen slightly. Yes, Stanley's relationship was meant to follow the path of the greatest love story of all time, Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth. A smile began to form on my face at the realization. Soon I was drifting off to sleep— where I dreamed of being in the midst of a category five tornado.

I woke the next morning to a blaring alarm, eyes heavy, feeling like I had gotten about an hour of sleep. I rushed through my shower and grabbed the bags to bring to the church I had laid out in my room the night before, then headed downstairs in a rush.

My mother was in the kitchen singing and smiled brightly as I entered. “There you are, the bride-to-be.” She sang.

“Morning, mother,” I responded sleepily.

“I made you some eggs.” She replied.

My stomach flipped nauseous at the word “eggs.” “No thanks, I’m not hungry.”

“Ruby, you have to eat. You have a long day ahead of you.”

I grab a piece of toast from a plate on the table. “I’ll eat some toast. I’m going to head out to the hair salon, mother.” I’ll see you at the church.” I rushed out the door as I heard murmuring continue from behind me. I kept going hoping she wouldn’t call after me.

An hour later, I was heading to the church feeling utterly silly driving in my car with a veil propped on my head and my hair poofed out in a 1950s beehive-type updo. It reminded me of some of my characters from the masterpiece theater movies I watched. Characters from the 1800s.

I guess it was kind of romantic, at least that's what Nancy, my hairdresser said, who was also my mother’s dress, need I forget.

Plus, she said it was based on the picture from a hair magazine my mother had pointed out earlier in the week as the “decided upon do” for the big day. Odd how I didn’t remember agreeing upon this myself. Oh well, it was one less thing to stress about as the wedding date closed in, and I had enough stress and anxiety already to tend to regard the wedding.

I arrived at the church, grabbed my bags, and headed inside as my heartbeat began to pick up. The church secretary led me to a room downstairs where I could change into my gown and get ready. I entered the room and saw my dress hanging on a hook on one wall, which meant my mother was here at the church somewhere.

I set down the suitcase that I had prepacked for our honeymoon. We were taking a four-day trip to Shelby Gardens right after the wedding reception. Stanley’s mother’s chosen destination. She said they had the most beautiful rose gardens she’d ever seen. We were staying at a Holiday Inn nearby. I was unsure of how we were going to fill four days looking at rose gardens, but Stanley seemed okay with the choice, so who was I to complain? After all, she was going to be my mother n law soon, so I really needed to start to defer to her.

I dropped my makeup bag and shoes unto the floor and proceeded to undress. My hands began to shake a little as I reached for the wedding dress, removed it from the hook, and began to undo the buttons up the back. I could feel my throat constrict as I stepped into the dress.

I heard a small knock and my mother’s voice calling from the other side of the door, "Are you decent? It's me." She opened the door and stepped inside, not waiting for a response. "Oh good, you found your dress" "Oh, and your hair turned out just like the picture I gave Nancy." "Isn't it lovely?"

Mother stepped behind me and began to button up the back of my dress. "Okay, so Florence and I are tending to things upstairs. The flowers just arrived, and we are going over some of the sermon details with the Father. "You finish getting ready, and I will come down for you when it's time." her voice rose in s syrupy sing-song at the end of the sentence. Then mother practically skipped out the door, closing it behind her.

I continued to get ready, applying some violet eyeshadow to the lids that I had picked up at the local Walgreens. The color matched the men's cummerbunds and bow ties and the shade of hydrangeas in my flower bouquet.

I added a layer of shimmery soft pink lip gloss to my lips and eyed myself in the wardrobe mirror. Hmm, not bad. Maybe I should have tried this makeup thing out before today. I look pretty good. The violet eyeshadow really brought out the green in my eyes, making them pop.

I was never really a fan of my green eyes. All the pretty girls I knew in high school had those beautiful sparkling baby blue eyes with long eyelashes. Instant guy magnets were my thought. At least I found them mesmerizing.

I swirled around in a circle watching the bell of my wedding dress skirt sway from side to side, then I noticed a small section of the hem hanging down. Crap.

I reached down and grabbed the section of satin between my fingers, trying to bend it back into place, but it just fell again. I walked to the door and cracked it open, looking around for my mother. Of course, she is never around when I actually need her. I just need a pin or something to tack it up.

I could hear someone talking in the distance, so I stepped from the room and headed in the direction of the voices. The basement of the church had a large auditorium-style room that was used for bingo and other church functions. It was full of long tables and folding chairs and looked like it had been set up for an event later that day.

On the other side of the room, I could see some of my flower arrangements sitting on the tables and Edward from Edward’s Flower Shop standing next to them.

Perfect, I bet he had a pin. I headed in his direction, then slowed at the sound of a muffled male voice coming from behind a Pilar next to Edward. He sounded upset, but I couldn’t make out the words.

Uh, oh, some things not going well. Geez, I hope it wasn’t my wedding flowers. Maybe I should go over and find out what the problem was.

I took a step forward, then saw Edward lean in toward the shadow. Okay, this clearly wasn’t about my flowers. Looked like Edward was having a little lover’s quarrel. I didn’t even know he had a boyfriend. I giggled to myself and began to quietly back out of the room.

Well, looks like they’re working it out. I giggled again. I'll just go upstairs and find the mother.

As I stepped quietly backward, my right foot caught the corner of a metal folding chair, causing it to hit the metal folding table, making a resounding loud clang that rang through the room.

"Crap." I looked up toward Edward, embarrassed as my cheeks reddened.

Edward's head snapped around toward the direction of the sound. "Sorry," I whispered, “I was just leaving" then the other head picked out from behind the pillar, causing me to stop dead in my tracks. It is Stanley.

My heart began to race wildly as Stanley and my eyes locked. I felt my toast begin to rise in my throat, and stars danced in front of my eyes for a second as I grabbed onto a nearby chair back for stability.

I couldn't move I just stood staring at him. Stanley stared back, then stammered, “Ruby," and moved toward me.

I began to back up again, hitting another chair, causing another loud bang to ring out and echo through the room, bouncing off the walls.

"Ruby, it's not what you think," Stanley said as began to quicken his pace toward me.

So, I turned and ran for the dressing room, shutting the door behind me. Tears began to well in my eyes. My heart pounded in my chest as the image of Edward leaning in to embrace the man behind the pillar flashed in my mind. There was no mistaking what I saw.

I looked around the room through tears, and all I knew was I had to get out. So, I grabbed my suitcase and makeup bag and headed for the door.

I opened the door to find Stanley and Edward both standing ten feet away. It looked like Edward was holding onto Stanley’s arm, trying to prevent him from leaving.

They turned when I opened the door looking in my direction. I glanced at Stanley whose face looked flushed and visibly upset. He began to speak, then stopped himself. I looked away and headed for the stairs.

As I reached the top, I saw my mother and Florence standing in the vestibule talking to the Father. I hurried to the exit hoping they wouldn’t see me, and pushed the heavy wood church door open, then quickly headed for my car.

I heard my mother call after me "Ruby, where are you going? The guests are beginning to arrive" I ran past blurring faces, reached my car got in.

Then I began to fumble through my purse in search of car keys. I heard my voice being called again and looked up, seeing my mother heading my way.

I stuck the key in the ignition, turned it, and squealed out of the church parking lot.

I headed down the street a few blocks, then began a series of left and right turns as I approached different intersections. My phone started ringing. I stopped the car in the middle of the road, reached for my purse and pulled my phone out, turned the power off, then threw it to the floor, took my foot off the gas, and kept driving. and

I began to cry, tears rolling slowly down my cheeks as the look on Stanley’s face at my discovery popped into my head again.

Then my crying turned into full-on sobbing. My chest heaved in and out heavily as I tried to catch my breath.

My visibility of the road became distorted through the tears, so I grabbed a section of my wedding dress and wiped my eyes and nose on it as I drove on.

I had no idea where I was going I just knew I had to get as far away there as I could.

Eventually, I began to feel tired. I had no idea how much time had passed since I’d left the church parking lot and began my endless maze of random turns, but I knew my ability to keep driving was diminishing by the minute.

I pulled my car into the nearest. parking lot, shut off the engine, and bent my head over the steering wheel as tears began to roll down my face again.

How did this happen? This was supposed to be the first day of my new life.

The image of Edward leaning in to kiss the man the pillar played in my head over and over, again, like a cruel trick. My toast began rising in my throat, and I swallowed hard.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the rear-view mirror, eyes puffy, make-up smeared, my hair all poofed up in the shimmering veil perched on top of my head.

I angrily ripped the veil from my head a spray of Bobbie pins scattered through the car.

Then I just sat quietly in my car, too numb to move. I noticed my hands shaking, so I folded them in front of my chest, tucking them under in a hug to stop the shaking.

I sat in my car rocking myself, thinking of nothing, as time passed. I watched two birds chase each other on the pavement in front of the car until they flew away. My eyes began to blink, and I caught my head folding toward as I nodded off. Then the voice of. Children caught my attention, and I looked up.

A family was heading into the building in front of me, and I watched them until they disappeared. More people kept coming, and I continued to watch them pass by and head into the building.

I looked up at the sign on the building, curious as to where they were headed. Then something came over me, and suddenly I turned the ignition off, put the keys in my purse, noticed my phone lying on the floor and leaned forward, picked it up, and returned it to my purse.

I grabbed my suitcase from the passenger seat, opened it, and crammed my make-up bag inside, then quickly shut it, turned and opened the car door, got out, and began walking toward the building.

I entered the remote doors, and a cool blast of air conditioning hit my face forcefully. I looked around the room, getting my bearings, then headed in the direction of the counter.

The attendant on duty eyed me carefully, then smiled with a look of pity at what she deduced. I spoke with her for a few minutes, then gathered the papers she handed me and sat down to wait.

Soon I heard my number being called, and I filed out with the other people. I could hear whispers around me but didn't care to pick up their words.

I climbed on the bus and settled into the first open seat on the right, then leaned my head against the window, pulled my legs into my chest, closed my eyes, and instantly fell into a deep, restless sleep.

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