Rose glanced up first at the abnormally quiet Daphne. “Mom? Are you all right?” Daphne was not a woman to stand silent for very long.
She nodded, and her eyes filled with tears. “I just had a moment, looking at you, and realizing how beautiful you all are, and how proud I am of every single one of you. Jack and I have done plenty of foolish things in our time, but each one of you children is such a blessing that it makes up for everything else.”
There was a sudden blinking of five pairs of eyes. Rose said, “Mom, stop! You’ll make us wreck our makeup.”
They all laughed and blinked back their sudden emotion. Even so, they stood as though on a silent command and gathered around their mother where they indulged in a clingy group hug.
As Daphne wiped her eyes she said, “I’m allowed to cry. I haven’t done my makeup yet. Besides, as the mother of the bride it’s my right to cry. And I’m claiming it.” She glared at them. “All day.”
Iris stepped back and straightened her spine. “Well, I’m not crying. I’ve decided. This is the happiest day of my life and I am not going to shed a single tear.”
Rose made a rude noise. “With those hormones rushing around your body like crazy? You’ll be sobbing all day.”
“Will not.”
“Will so.”
“Bets?”
Daphne stepped forward, laughing. She touched Iris’s cheek. “You’ll have a perfect day, whether you cry or you don’t. I only want you to enjoy every minute. Geoff is a very special man. I almost think he deserves you.”
Feeling that someone had to step up before Daphne had them all in tears again, Marguerite said, “Okay, let’s get Iris into her dress and then we’ll take some pictures. Mom? Are you dressing here or at your place?”
“Here. My dress is under there somewhere,” she said, pointing vaguely to the pile of stuff she’d brought with her.
Iris had insistedshe didn’t want stiff, formal wedding photos so they’d decided to simply take snaps throughout the day. By the time they were all dressed and ready, the sound of snapping cameras and the selfie posing was so practiced they barely noticed. She imagined a lot of the images would end up deleted, but she liked the candid nature of grabbing these precious moments of Iris’s big day.
Finally, they were all ready to go.
Daphne wore a sapphire blue dress and complained the second she slipped her feet into heels. “There’s a reason I never wear heels,” she groused, as Rose brushed blush onto her cheeks and Paisley worked the curling iron in her hair.
Daphne spent most of her life in jeans, work shirts and little or no makeup and still she was a very attractive woman. But get that woman in a decent dress, heels and made up and she was a knock out. “Wait until Dad sees you,” Rose said as she stepped away. “He’ll be drooling.”
Iris turned to her mother. “One rule. No making out with Dad at my wedding.”
They all giggled, Daphne hardest of all, for she and Jack had never been big on hiding their love from their kids. It had been mortifying when they were teenagers but now, Marguerite thought they all kind of liked the exuberant affection of their parents. But not, she privately agreed, at Iris and Geoff’s wedding. “Somebody better tell Dad it’s hands off until you’re alone.”
“Well, I’m not doing it,” Daphne said, looking much younger than her fifty-six years.
“I’ll do it,” Rose said. They all nodded. Rose could get Jack to do anything and they all knew it. Especially Jack.
Iris and Geoff had chosen to be married in the small wooden United Methodist church in town, so Evan and Matt were acting as designated wedding chauffeurs. They arrived right on time. They’d both had their cars washed and each vehicle sported a big white bow. For a last minute affair, this wedding was surprisingly well organized.
Iris, Paisley and Daphne slipped into Matt’s car while the remaining bridesmaids got into Evan’s.
Both men jumped out to open the rear doors for their passengers, exactly like real chauffeurs. Evan had even acquired a chauffeur’s cap from somewhere. “Ladies,” he said in full formality. “I hope you enjoy your ride.”
He helped them all into the car and they drove decorously to the church where Iris would be married.
Daphne gave Iris one last hug and then walked into the church to take her place. Jack walked forward and said, “You girls look great.” In his suit, he looked like a Grateful Dead groupie accidentally on stage with The Three Tenors. He’d had his beard trimmed, and his shoes shined, and as he held out his arm to Iris, he said, “Let’s do this thing.”
Since there wasn’t a wedding co-ordinator, Rose gave the organist the high sign and the music changed to a pounded rendition of the wedding march.
Rose went first, followed by Paisley, and it was her turn. Marguerite had the perfect view of Geoff’s face as he glimpsed his bride and the expression on his face brought a lump of emotion to her throat. The church seated eighty, but there were at least a hundred people squeezed into the pews. No one seemed to care about the overcrowding. She could feel the love coming from Geoff’s colleagues and students, his family, and the Chance clan, Iris’s friends and even some of her loyal customers who had turned up to help celebrate.
Maybe there was no such thing as a perfect wedding, but Marguerite thought that this one came pretty darned close. If there was an ache in her chest that her own love life was the opposite of Iris’s, she tried to squelch it and focus on being happy for Iris.
