Sandy Supposes....

September 10th

Ooops! Tardy entry for September 10th.....weather issues..hey, didn't we already blog about this? PROMPT: Creation Saturday! Your best friend from college has invited you to his or her wedding. You haven't seen him or her in years, so you're excited to catch up. But when you arrive at the wedding, you discover that your best friend's bride or groom is someone from your past, and you realize that you must stop the wedding at all costs...

          I still cannot wrap my mind around it. Marilyn is getting married. When we hung out at college, she was so anti-commitment. There was no time for boyfriends and dating. She had a sharp focus and clear goals. The last time I'd heard from her, after graduation, she was jetting off to the remote Yukon to be a social worker. Now, I was driving to reconnect with her , a fancy embossed invitation in hand.

          Yes, that had been a surprise. Amongst the pile of torn and colourful junk flyers a beautiful white envelope shone. Genuine mail had found me, and its return-to-sender name a familiar one.

         Marilyn, Marilyn...... I admit it, my curiosity is piqued. As I steer towards our former college town, the questions begin to multiply. What have you been up to all these years? Did you live and work in the Yukon for months, years? Maybe you still call it home? What is it like? Where did you meet your fiancé? Is he a social worker, too? Wait, are you a social worker? Is this wedding just a one-time reunion? I really wanted to sit, chat, and catch up with her, but everyone monopolizes a bride's attention. The old Marilyn loved to laugh and shock. I could insist on a dance with her, why not? Why should just the men enjoy that privilege?

          The church was another pleasant surprise. Well, the idea of a ceremony in a church struck me as so-not-Marilyn. She never referenced religion at all, but, hey, years have passed. Maybe this future hubby held some sway. Who had decorated the aisles and pews? White lilies perfumed the air. Huge silvery bows swirled and swooped, entangled with tiny fairy lights. Whoa! This was for Marilyn?

         I barely recognized the bride as she swept down the aisle, dwarfed by a glimmering, billowing gown. She glowed. Her sole focus was the smiling man waiting at the altar. Odd, but he seemed familiar to me. The name meant nothing to me, yet his face stirred memories. The more I stared, the more I couldn't shake that where-have-we-met sensation. Something about the way he stood and his height were clues. When he answered the minister's standard query ,"Who takes this woman?", I recognized his voice.

         Oh my God! No, this was impossible. How could it be? Marilyn's fiancé wasn't even a man. He, I mean she, was my long lost cousin, Shelly. Shelly had disappeared more than fifteen years ago. Yes, it was Shelly in a tuxedo, and marrying my old friend. Did she know? Should I say something? Could I say something?

         Blindly, I searched the church crowd. Didn't anyone else see what I did? No, all I saw were smiling faces. I think I'd want to know if it was me. Hearing the minister announce, "If anyone has any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony", I shot to my feet shouting, "Wait!" I'm sure all eyes were burning holes in my backside as I trembled and spoke. "Shelly is it you?" The groom registered annoyance, shock, and recognition. I believe I then created another scene. I fainted.