On This Day (22 page)

C
aught in the twilight that stretches between sleeping and waking, I consider the dream I just had. I was going to a wedding banquet. At first it seemed to be my dear granddaughters, but there were so many, many people present, thousands I am sure, some I knew and some who were strangers, and I could tell it was someplace I’ve never been. But when I tried to go in to join them, I was unable to open the huge glass door; my arms were too weak. I pushed and pushed, but it would not open for me. I woke up with tears in my eyes, frustrated at my old body and my inability to do something as simple as opening a door.

And then I hear someone knocking on my door. At first I think this must be part of my dream too, but the knocking is persistent and urgent, as if something is wrong. I open my eyes to see that the room is dark, and I’m not entirely sure where I am. Then
I see orange-lit numerals on the digital clock, and I remember I am in my room at the lodge. I’m here for Jenny’s wedding, and suddenly I realize I am quite late for dinner.

“Coming,” I call as I pull myself up from the bed and slowly make my way to the door. I suspect it is Eric, and I feel extremely guilty for making him leave Jenny’s wedding dinner like this. Old people can be such a nuisance sometimes.

“I’m so sorry,” I begin as I open the door. But it’s not Eric, it’s Elizabeth. “Oh,” I say. “What are you doing here, dear?”

“Jeannette was worried about you,” she says quickly. Then to my complete surprise, she reaches out and hugs me. “And so was I, Margaret. I’m so thankful you’re okay.”

Still slightly disoriented, I turn on the light and look around my room, trying to get my bearings. “I took a little nap,” I tell her, feeling more like a naughty child than an elderly woman, “but it seems to have turned into a rather lengthy one. I feel like Rip Van Winkle. Is the dinner over now?”

“No, not at all.” Elizabeth rushes over to the side of the bed and picks up my shoes for me and then retrieves my sweater from a chair. Soon she is helping me put myself back together.

“How is my hair?” I ask as I attempt to pat it into place.

“Maybe you should check it,” she says with uncertainty.

“I don’t want to go down there looking like a scared wolf,” I say as I go to look in the bathroom mirror and find that my hair is indeed sticking out in wild white wisps. I use my brush to put it back into place.

She laughs. “You look lovely, Margaret. I hope I look half as good when I’m your age.” Then she picks up a tube of lipstick from the counter. “Do you want any of this?”

“I guess it couldn’t hurt.” I squint into the mirror as I try to put it on correctly It gets harder and harder to do this, partly because my lips seem to shrink daily and also because I’ve developed a slight tremor in my hands. But when I finish, I think I’ve done rather well, all things considered. “You know, I’ve had this old lipstick for ages,” I tell her as I use the tissue she hands me to blot with. “I hope the color is not too terribly out of fashion.”

“It’s perfect,” she says as she slides the lid back over the tube. “And the engraved silver case is so beautiful. No wonder you’ve held on to it. Nowadays lipsticks are usually packaged in cheap plastic throwaways. We live in such a disposable generation, you know.”

“Yes, so many things have changed during my lifetime.” I sigh. “We used to save and recycle almost everything—even tin foil.”

“And marriages too,” she says with a sad expression.

I place my hand on her arm. “Is your marriage in trouble?”

She nods. “But I don’t want to burden you with that.”

“It’s no burden, dear.”

“But we need to get you down to dinner,” she says quickly. “You’re definitely being missed.”

“Yes, of course.” I nod as I button the top of my sweater. “You’re perfectly right.”

“Maybe I can talk to you some other time,” she says. “Maybe
after we get back home. Perhaps you’d let me buy you lunch sometime this summer.”

I consider this, wondering how much time I really have left on this earth. How much longer will I be around to do things like go to lunch or putter in my garden? Only an hour ago I was unsure I would be here now. “Yes,” I tell her as I lock the door to my room. “That would be nice, dear.”

I consider confiding in her about my heart trouble as we go down the hallway. She seems such a caring and sensible woman. But she’s also Jeannettes sister and might feel a need to tell her about my doctor’s insistence that I have this foolish heart surgery. And that is a decision I must make for myself. I have no intention of burdening my children with my health problems. Besides, who needs an old bird like me around anyway?

“I feel so bad about being late,” I say as she takes my arm to descend the stairs.

“You’re not terribly late,” she reassures me. “And it’s understandable that you fell asleep. I’m sure this has been a long day for you.”

I nod. “Yes, you’re right about that.”

I suppose I am relieved to still be here tonight, at least for dear Jenny’s sake. But as we enter the crowded tent that houses the beautiful wedding feast, I find myself wishing it were the heavenly wedding feast instead. I remember my dream and try to imagine how it would feel to be completely renewed, with enough strength to push open the heaviest of doors. I wonder what it will be like to
experience vitality and joy and energy again, how it will feel to be able to skip and dance and carry on as I did in my youth.

Just as Elizabeth leads me to the front of the room, I realize I have already made my decision. I will decline my doctors recommendation for heart surgery. Why would an old thing like me need that sort of medical attention? Why not save it for someone who has more to live for? My life on earth has been wonderful. “Always leave the party while you’re still having fun,” my Calvin used to say to me when I thought we should stay a bit longer. And looking back, I’m sure he was right.

“Mom!” says Eric with relief in his eyes. “We were just wondering what had become of you.” He pulls my chair back and seats me as if I’m the queen of the ball.

“I took a nap,” I explain, “but it lasted a bit longer than I intended. Please forgive me if I worried you.”

“We’re just glad you’re here.”

“Thank you,” Jeannette quietly says to Elizabeth as she sits down beside her.

“My pleasure.” Elizabeth smiles and pats her sister’s hand.

Remembering Elizabeth’s words about marriage, I glance over at her husband and imagine that I detect something in his eyes. But I’m not quite sure what it is. An unasked question perhaps or maybe just uncertainty. I wonder if he’s as concerned about his marriage as his wife seems to be. Oh, I do hope they can work out their differences!

C
aught you,” David says as I suppress a yawn.

“Sorry,” I tell him. “I really shouldn’t be that tired since I got in a pretty nice nap today.” I shift Amy to a more comfortable position, taking time to smooth the fluffy skirt of her little dress. She looks like a tiny pink fairy to me, and watching her put her chubby fist into her mouth makes me smile. I’m not sure if it’s the champagne or the realization that this wedding day will soon come to an end, but I feel surprisingly relaxed and happy just now.

“Here comes the cake,” says David, turning in his chair to watch as an enormous white layered cake is carried in by two waiters. As it passes our table, I can see that the frosting is intricate and detailed. It must’ve taken someone hours to complete such a masterpiece. Nothing like the homemade wedding cake my aunt Ethel whipped up for our wedding. Even so, everyone seemed to
think it was delicious, and there wasn’t even enough left for us to freeze the top layer for our first anniversary.

Jenny and Michael stand up at the front, one on either side of the gigantic cake, and together they cut the first slice—perfectly. Cameras flash. Then they each get a bite ready, and I wonder if they will get silly, the way some couples do, and smear it all over each other’s faces. But Michael is very careful, and when he gets a bit of frosting on Jenny’s upper lip, he grabs a napkin and gently wipes it off. She laughs as he opens his mouth wide, and although she hesitates for a moment, as if considering whether to be playful or not, she then pops it into his mouth, and they kiss. Very sweet.

Okay, I’m trying not to be envious now. I’m fully aware that David and I could’ve had some flamboyant affair like this for our wedding. It was our choice to do things simply. And, I keep telling myself, it’s not the wedding that counts but the marriage. Despite my earlier panic attack or hormone madness, we do have a good marriage. At least I think we do. I glance over at David and watch him as he watches the happy couple. I wonder what he’s thinking.

Cake is served now, and the champagne still flows freely, but I decline another glass since I am nursing. My doctor says an occasional drink won’t hurt, but I want to be careful. However, I do enjoy a generous piece of cake while David takes Amy, and I’m pleasantly surprised to find that it’s actually quite tasty. So it wasn’t just for show, after all.

“Here,” I say as I take Amy from David. “Your turn to have some cake. It’s actually quite good.”

He smiles. “Thanks, sweetie.” I think he’s relieved that I’m not complaining again. And I regret that I’ve been so cantankerous today.

“I’m going to walk her around a little,” I tell him. I know it’s getting close to feeding time again, but I hope I can distract her with movement. Sometimes that works.

Finally I am near the dance floor, standing off to one side and watching as people eat cake and mingle. Everyone seems fairly relaxed now. I notice that some of the bridesmaids have kicked off their shoes. And some of them are even starting to look a little worn out, more like normal people, with hairstyles coming down and skirts that show wrinkles from sitting. Suddenly I wonder why I felt so depressed or oppressed—or was it obsessed—over everyone’s picture-perfect appearance earlier. Good grief, they’re all just regular people like me—dressed up, of course. But what did I expect for a wedding?

“Oh, Amy,” I whisper in my daughter’s ear, “Mommy was so foolish today.”

Now the band is beginning to play an old song, from the forties I think, and the vocalist begins to sing, and I recognize it as “The Way You Look Tonight.” The next thing I know, Jenny and Michael are moving onto the dance floor, and everyone is clapping as they begin to gracefully dance together. It is so sweet, so perfect, it actually makes me tear up. But these aren’t tears of frustration or
jealousy this time. I am just plain happy for the two of them. Michael really is a great guy, and Jenny is going to make a wonderful sister-in-law, and I feel like a complete idiot for having been such a party pooper all day long.

I sway with the music, watching as the dance ends and Michael goes over to invite his mother to join him for the second dance and Jenny goes to invite her father. The two couples look very elegant, and even though Jenny’s father seems a bit self-conscious at first, all of them are quite good dancers.

Like choreography, the couples break apart after about a minute of dancing, and each goes to get another partner, which puts both sets of wedding-party parents on the floor, as well as Ingrid and David. I watch with a mixture of amusement and concern as David dances with the bride. Jenny is beautiful, poised, and sweet. They are talking, and she is smiling, and I wonder what he thinks of her. Does he compare her to me? Do I come up short?
Don’t go there
, I warn myself.

The song ends, and the couples break apart again, and as I see Alex coming toward me, I remember his promise to dance with his granddaughter tonight. “Is my little princess ready to cut the rug with me?” he asks hopefully.

“Of course,” I say as I hand him Amy and hope that she won’t start to fuss. He holds her upright, close to his chest, with her tiny head resting against his lapel, then dances away with a broad smile across his face.

I feel a tap on my shoulder. “May I have this dance?”

I turn to see David bowing before me, which makes me laugh. But then I curtsy and say, “Yes.”

David is a good dancer. His mother saw to it that both boys took lessons, and as a result, he’s much better than I am, but he’s also good at leading, so he can make it appear that I know what I’m doing. It feels good to have his body close to mine like this, to move in slow, graceful steps, my hand on his shoulder, his arm securely on my back, guiding me across the floor.

“Having fun yet?” he asks after a bit.

I happily nod at him. “Uh-huh.”

“Dad looks pretty pleased and proud,” he says. “He’s showing off Amy to everyone on the dance floor.”

“I hope she doesn’t get fussy.”

“She seems okay.”

“She probably won’t last too much longer.” I resist the urge to glance at my watch and calculate how long it is until feeding time.

“Me neither,” he says.

“Really?” I’m surprised since he’s been such a bundle of energy today. Is he really ready to call it a night?

“Yeah. As soon as Michael and Jenny make their big getaway, I’m hitting the hay.”

Now the dance is over, and Alex is coming back with Amy. “Want to trade, Son?” he asks David.

David nods as he takes Amy. “You’re getting my two best women tonight, Dad.”

Alex bows slightly, then takes my hand. “You’re right about that.”

I’m nervous as I dance with David’s dad. Alex is polished and smooth, such a good dancer, but like David, he leads carefully and doesn’t make me feel like I have two left feet. “It’s been a beautiful day,” I tell him. “Jenny is a wonderful addition to your family.”

“I always wanted daughters,” he says wistfully. “And now I have two of the loveliest ones imaginable. And a beautiful granddaughter to boot. I couldn’t be happier.”

We visit a bit more as we dance, and I realize, once again, what a truly fine man David’s father is. Oh, sure he’s rich and influential, but his heart is really good.

Finally the song ends, and another one begins, and more people start coming onto the dance floor. It’s getting more crowded and lively now, but David and I decide to indulge in one more dance, this time with Amy in between us. People point and smile, and I can tell they think our little threesome is cute. But by the end of the song, Amy is starting to fuss a bit, and I realize it’s time for me to feed our little princess and tuck her into bed.

“I’d better get her out of here,” I tell David when the music ends. “Unless we want her to really cut loose and drown out the band.”

“I’ll walk you girls up,” he says.

“Oh, that’s okay,” I tell him. “You should stay down here and enjoy the—”

“I
want
to, Laura,” he insists. “At least you can let me escort my two ladies to their room. I can always come back down later.”

“Okay,” I say, handing him Amy and hooking my hand around his elbow. “Lets make our exit.”

We quickly say good night to David’s parents, then go over to Jenny and Michael, who are taking a break, and I congratulate them. “I’d love to stick around and party,” I say, “but Amy’s pretty tired.”

Jenny leans down and kisses Amy on the cheek. “You have a good night’s rest, little sweetheart. Aunt Jenny will see you in a couple of weeks.” Then she looks at me. “I’m glad we’re sisters now, Laura. I’ve always wanted a sister, and now I finally have the perfect one!” Then she kisses me on the cheek. “Let’s get together after Michael and I get back from our honeymoon! Maybe we can have you guys over for dinner. I’m going to talk my grandma into giving me cooking lessons this summer.”

I tell her that sounds great, and then, saying good night to a few more people, we make our way to the door, and I am surprisingly sad to leave. I turn and look back at all the people just visiting and dancing and having a good time—and I realize they’re really no different than I am. Not much, anyway.

The night air has cooled down considerably, and David tucks Amy into the jacket of his tux to keep her warm as we walk back toward the lodge.

“I must’ve left her baby shawl at the table,” I tell him.

“I’ll get it for you later,” he assures me. “Let’s just get inside.”

Soon we are back in the room, and not a moment too soon. I barely get Amy’s diaper changed and jammies on when she decides she’s absolutely ravenous. I halfway expect David to go back downstairs as I sit down to feed her, but he flops onto the bed. It isn’t long before her tummy is full, and she is already fast asleep by the time I ease her into the portacrib.

I kick off my shoes and lie down on the bed next to David, then sigh deeply. “It feels good to really relax.”

In the next moment his arms are around me, and he’s grinning with a look of expectation in his eyes. “Not too relaxed, I hope?”

I laugh. Then I sober up a bit and ask him what he really thinks about our marriage.

“Huh?” He looks confused.

“I mean, how do you feel about
us
, David?
Our
marriage. Do you think we’ve been doing it right? Do you regret anything? Do you ever wish we’d had a bigger wedding or that you’d married someone totally different? Someone your family would approve of?”

He sits up straight now and stares at me as if he’s looking at a complete stranger. “Are you nuts, Laura?”

I sit up too. “Well, maybe … just a little. I mean, that thought has actually occurred to me more than once today.”

Then he takes my face in his hands and looks straight into my eyes. “I think our marriage is fantastic, Laura. I think our wedding was totally perfect. And I love you more today than I’ve ever loved you before. Does that answer your crazy questions?”

I nod.

Then he kisses me, and all my nagging doubts and troubling misgivings just melt away, and I realize, not for the first time, that I truly have been a silly fool today.