“Hooplah, Pt. 3” by Scripted Starlet

A.N. The other day a friend asked me how come I’m never online anymore. It got me thinking about fanfic. (Guilty smile.) For now I’ll just blame it on the holidays.

A million thanks to my two beloveds: Marion and Claire. They really pull a bear out of hibernating and offer more reassurance than said bear would ever deserve.

…

My cell rang.

“Don’t you dare move your head,” Laura growled, placing the pin that would hopefully end all pins in the back of my hair.

“Would somebody please pass me the phone?” I said to the bustling reflections in the mirror. The screen read ‘Goren’, and I managed not to shift my face as I brought the receiver to my ear. “Hey there, Hubs.”

He groaned. “Now that is really getting old.”

“Aw, you don’t want to marry me anymore?”

“Too late.”

“Shhhh,” I hissed, covering the mouthpiece with my hand. “What’s up, really? Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet because you’re already supposed to be on stage right about now.”

“I’m at the side of the chapel,” he confirmed, “but it wasn’t me that got the cold feet. It was Nathan.”

“What?”

“He said he was too scared to bear our rings with everyone looking at him. Afraid he’d make a fool of himself or something.”

“I knew it was too good to be true,” I exhaled tiredly, rubbing my forehead with my spare hand. “Well, did you tell him I don’t want him to do anything he doesn’t want to?”

“Yes, actually,” Bobby said, his surprise audible. “I said exactly that.”

“And what’d he say?”

“Said I was ‘nice’.”

“Nice?” I sat up straighter.

“Well, yeah. Why—you don’t think it was promising…?”

“On the contrary,” I chuckled, more than pleased by this development. “Looks like you finally made the short list.”

“What list?”

“The list of people Nathan has officially ruled out as boogeymen. Listen, I have to go…” My sisters were hovering over a wad of lace. “I have a tutu to fend off.”

“Can’t wait to see you up here.”

And I can’t wait ‘til we’re on a plane, I thought. But aloud I settled for the relatively less whiney, “I love you.”

We hung up and I swiveled around in my chair. “Okay, okay—you can put it down now. If I’m not wearing white then I sure as hell am not wearing a veil.”

“Alexandra, language!”

“Sorry, Mom. But I’m not sorry about the two of you. Give it here.”

“But, Alex, it’s not like there’s a train or anything,” Laura pled, making a last minute attempt to convince me. “It’s small. It’s classic.”

“Like you,” Amy threw in.

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” I said distractedly, rising to my feet and turning from side to side in front of the mirror. “You guys did a wonderful job. Thank you, I’m all set.”

They stood there unhappily for several seconds, their lips pursed as though they were thinking of something else to object to.

“Aren’t you girls supposed to be lining up?” Mom asked, throwing me a bone as she smiled with all due charm.

Laura crossed her arms, undoubtedly peeved she wasn’t going to get to stay here and bully me into the bee-mask. But it was by a stroke of good fortune that Sissy, the flower girl, arrived right on site at that moment, grabbing the door handle and tearing it open.

“We have to start!” she squealed. So loudly that her mother behind her blanched and people from over thirty feet away, probably well adjusted in their pews, overheard the echo and laughed boisterously.

Sissy was short for ‘Cecilia’, who was technically my second cousin but who I considered a niece just the same. When Sissy had heard there was going to be a wedding she’d all but campaigned for inclusion, terrified that the role of flower girl would go to one of her younger cousins. She needn’t have worried. Being handed a pail full of dandelions had single-handedly eradicated the competition.

“We have to start, we have to start, we have to—”

Rachel clamped her hand over Sissy’s mouth and held her daughter tightly for restraint.

“She’s just a little excited,” she said by way of apology. “You two brought sedatives, right?”

Amy laughed and took a step towards the squirming child. “You know us, Rach. It’s no problem.”

Rachel let go but instead of joining my sisters Sissy came careening towards me, seizing both of my legs and hugging them as if I were an oversized doll.

“Cecilia!” her mother barked. “What did I tell you about controlling yourself today?”

“No, it’s okay,” I said lightly, chuckling as I fingered Sissy’s plaited hair. “Let her get it all out now while she still can.”

“You look so pretty!” Sissy gushed. “It’s just like Mommy said—nobody can tell you’re pregnant. She says you’re lucky you’re getting married now and not later when you’re big and fa—”

“Sissy, that’s enough!” Rachel interrupted, positively red-faced. “I’m… I’m so sorry Alex.”

“Rachel, relax,” I smirked, “those were my sentiments, too.” Lowering to my haunches, I kissed Sissy’s forehead and patted the decorative basket at her side. “You’re ready, then?”

“Yes!”

“You want to go now?”

“Yes, yes, yes!”

I signaled to my sisters and they came and snatched Sissy right from underneath me, Laura taking one hand while Amy tugged at the other. A frazzled Rachel left with them and I turned to my mother in good humor.

“Can you imagine Sissy on her wedding day?”

“I just hope I’m around for it,” she said.

My smile fell and Mom let out one of her shock-absorbent snickers. “That was a joke.”

“It wasn’t funny,” I groused, accepting her hug of apology nonetheless. “It is strange that I’m feeling nervous?” I held out my hand and showed her the slight tremor that had started the instant the pre-processional music began. “I mean I’ve been here before.”

“I think that’s only natural no matter how many times you do this,” Mom told me, having no idea how ironic the statement was as she reached to align the loose tendrils that framed my face. “And I never doubted you’d marry again. I’m just surprised it hadn’t happened a little sooner.”

“You can blame Bobby for that one,” I said. “Took him forever to make a move.”

She hummed thoughtfully. “But you can’t blame him, really.”

“Uh, actually—I can. Would’ve saved me about five years’ worth of cheap dates.”

“Now is not the time to be bitter,” she chided me, drawing back to appraise her work. I lined my shoulders and stood as tall as my short legs could muster, hoping that she’d give me the sort of wholesale approval all daughters longed to hear from their mothers on their wedding day. A sober smile cracked her cheeks as she shook her head slowly. “Oh, Alex,” she breathed. “Is it any wonder he waited for you?”

Blushing just a bit, I ducked my head and peered at the bracelet Bobby had given me. It occurred to me then that despite my nervousness, I didn’t feel the slightest bit queasy.

“I think I was waiting for him, too,” I said softly. “That’s why I hadn’t married after—.” I was cut off by a nip of contrition. This may have been a joyous occasion, but I didn’t know if it was appropriate to bring up my late husband’s name when I was minutes away from replacing him.

“Alex…” I looked up and saw that my mother had read me like a book. “It’s natural to think about what might have been. But you don’t have to feel guilty about being happy now.”

Swallowing tightly, I could almost hear my heart skip its beat. “Do you ever think those things sometimes?” I asked her. “I mean, would you rather have had things happen differently… with Dad?”

She didn’t even blink. “No.” I worked hard not to let my reaction show as she continued steadily. “Everything with your father happened as it was intended to. Well—except for Jack. That was a surprise.”

“So was this one,” I said, laying a hand on my stomach. “We’re very happy about it, though.”

“Then why all the questions?” Mom prodded. “Is there a reason for them?”

“Not really, I was only …” I shrugged haplessly, “thinking.”

Her lips tightening, my mother leaned back and fixed me with a steely gaze. “Alex, are you sure?”

Startled by the question, I stared at her for clarification.

“I don’t care how wonderful Bobby is or whether or not you feel obligated. Just because you’re pregnant doesn’t mean you have to go through with this.”

And then I understood.

“No, Mom, I—”

“A real man wouldn’t mind waiting a little longer and—”

“No, no, no, Mom, I’m sure,” I hastened, knowing I had to convince her but uncertain of how to express my other concerns. “I love him, I do, it’s just that—” I brushed my palms against the front of my dress and took a quick breath, “I don’t want anything to ever happen to him. Bobby really is the one I’ve waited for, but… but I never thought I’d be marrying another cop.”

And then she understood.

“Alex,” she sighed, her eyes dark and sincere. “Honey, you know that nothing is for certain.”

I closed my eyes and nodded. ”These are terrible thoughts to be having right now, aren’t they?”

“They’d be difficult not to have,” she said.

“It’s just that sometimes I worry I love Bobby more than what is healthy, you know? And I can’t pinpoint whether that happened before or…” I rolled my wrist illustratively, “after this whole mess. I swear, Mom—it’s driving me crazy just wondering.”

“Listen to me,” she said sharply, taking my hand. “A lot of newlyweds feel that way. And given what you’ve been through, I can’t imagine not feeling a little co-dependent. But I guarantee you, Alex, the moment you have this child, and it’s yours and Bobby’s, and you get to take it home and raise it as your very own, well… you’ll find your capacity for love is pretty much endless.”

My eyes were wet with gratitude as she squeezed my fingers encouragingly. It was still amazing to me that all throughout my thirty-eight years, my mother had always known just what to say.

“Spoken from a woman with six children,” I teased her, hearing the sound of the recorded music taper off in the background.

Oh, God, the organ, I thought, my stomach clenching with another irrational wave of jitters. Here it comes…

“You want the truth, Alex?” Mom whispered, hooking one arm through mine as we pushed through the door. “The world is full of surprises.”