I Do (18 page)

Now to be honest, I don't know a perennial from a tulip, but I just nodded. “My mom grows a few flowers in our backyard, but nothing like this.” We were cutting a selection of blooms for me to take home and enjoy, but the bouquet just kept getting bigger and bigger. “I guess
that's enough,” I finally said when the coffee can I was putting them in became full.

“Now that's a pretty picture,” Josh called as he and his grandpa came our way.

“Here comes the bride,” sung his grandpa.

“Wouldn't that be a pretty bridal bouquet.” Josh leaned over to smell the colorful flowers.

“It's a little bright for a wedding,” I told him. “I just wanted something cheerful to take back to school with me tomorrow.”

“That ought to brighten your room,” Grandma Brown said as she adjusted her straw hat to keep the sun out of her eyes. “The beauty of flowers is that they can create whatever sort of mood you like. They can be perky and cheerful, or quiet and respectful, or elegant or sweet…” She smiled. “It's all in the way you arrange them.”

“Grandma Brown has won a lot of blue ribbons for flower arranging,” said Josh. “And she used to teach classes too.”

“Oh, Joshua, don't brag.” But it was easy to see she enjoyed it.

“Maybe I should talk to you about my wedding flowers. I mean, I sort of know what I want, but I don't even know what they're called.” Then I began explaining to her about my wedding vision and how I saw what I thought was ivy, and that I'd imagined some delicate white flowers, but I had no idea what they were.

So we sat my flowers in the shade, and she took me
around and showed me what they might possibly have been. As we walked, she cut several strands of ivy growing over one of her sheds, and then, like an expert, she cut several smaller white flowers and tucked them into it. “Something like this?” she asked.

I had to blink in amazement as I nodded. “Something exactly like that.”

“Well, this would be the simplest thing to put together,” she said. “No sense in your paying a florist to do this.” She nodded to where the ivy was growing. “And I've been meaning to cut back that ivy before it swallows my whole shed. I guess I could wait until June.”

“Really?” I asked her. “You'd do that for me?”

“Of course, honey. Flowers are my life. Nothing I'd rather do than put some together for your wedding. But are you sure that's all you want?” She looked around her garden. “Goodness knows this place will be nothing but blooms by the end of May. We'd have enough to do all sorts of things.”

“But it's such an imposition.”

“Not at all. I have a little garden club that would probably love to help.”

I turned to Josh with wide eyes. “What do you think?”

“I think there'd be nothing sweeter than having Grandma Brown's flowers at our wedding. But are you sure?”

“I've never seen florist's flowers that were any prettier than these,” I said. “I just don't want to impose–”

“Not another word,” said Grandma Brown. “This is going to be a delight.”

As Josh and I drove back to town, I told him how amazing it was that things just kept working out. “You know what I think,” I said suddenly.

“That you're marrying the right guy?”

“Well, yes, I definitely think that. But you know what else I think?”

“What?”

“I think we have a divine wedding planner.”

He laughed. “God as the wedding planner.”

“It's true. It's like things just keep falling into place. At this rate, I almost expect a cake to fall from the sky.”

“Then it would look like a pancake,” said Josh.

“You know what I mean.”

“Speaking of cake, do you think it could be something besides plain old white on the inside? Like maybe chocolate?”

“I don't know why not.”

“Do you know where you want to get it yet?”

“I know where I don't want to get it,” I told him. “Not from Le Fountine.”

“Too expensive?”

“I'll say. I mean, sheesh, it's only a cake. But I don't want one from the grocery store either. I know I'm trying to stretch our pennies, but I think we can do better than that. Besides, I want it to taste good.”

I had my first official “wedding gown” fitting today. But this is how it worked. Beanie had FedExed the “dress” to Aunt Steph, and then Steph invited a seamstress friend named Dorothy over to her house to check and make sure it was fitted correctly. But before I could try on the dress, I was blind folded.

“Why?” I asked.

“Beanie's instructions,” Steph said as she securely tied the blue bandanna over my eyes. “No peeking either.”

And then she and Dorothy went to work slipping something soft over my head and pinning it here and there. But I could tell by touching the fabric that it was all wrong. Still, I didn't say anything. I just stood there and did what they told me to do, thinking that as soon as they finished, I would borrow my mom's car, take a fast trip to the city, and purchase the dress that I'd allowed joy to return. I just hoped that it was still there.

“Are you okay?” asked Steph after the “dress” was finally removed and Dorothy had left.

I shook my head, holding back the tears.

“What's wrong?”

“Everything,” I said. “The dress–I know it's wrong–I can feel it. The fabric feels like–”

“Oh, Caitlin,” said Steph quickly. “I should've told you. That's not the actual dress.”

“It's not?”

“No, of course not. That's a model Beanie will use for
a pattern for the real dress. She used plain cotton for the fabric; I think she called it a dummy.”

“Oh.” But I felt like the dummy.

“She just needed to know it fits perfectly before she sews the real thing.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I get it now.” Then I looked closely at Aunt Steph. “But can you just tell me this? Do you think it's pretty? Do you think it's going to be okay?” Now her expression was absolutely no help. It was a cross between uncertainty and concern.

“I'm sure it's going to be beautiful,” she finally said. “Really, it's impossible to tell from the dummy dress. But it did fit you nicely.”

I sighed. “It's just so hard not knowing.”

“I know, sweetie. But trust Beanie; she's a pro.”

“I'm trying to, but I'm still wondering if I should get a backup dress, in case something goes wrong.”

“I don't know what to tell you.” Then Steph looked as if she'd just remembered something. “Oh, yeah. Beanie did say to tell you she'd found the perfect shoes, and I think she was going to stick a picture of them in the box.” She was already going through the box until she finally found it. “Here it is.”

And I'll have to give Beanie this: The shoes were beautiful. “Wow.”

“Those are gorgeous,” said Steph. “If that's any indication of how great the dress is going to look, I wouldn't be worried if I were you.”

And so I'm keeping that picture of the shoes on my
desk as a visual reminder that the dress is probably going to be just fine. And if not, well, at least my feet will look great.

I can't believe it's already May.
But these last few weeks have been so busy with classes, addressing invitations (which were just sent), and making more and more decisions that the time has really flown. And now I'm slightly freaked that my wedding is less than a month away. How can that be?

Mom and Aunt Steph have pretty much taken over the wedding decoration operation. They understand what I want (lots of white candles, ivy, and white and pale pink flowers), and I'm trusting that they really get it. And Mom's made it perfectly clear that the craft room if off limits. As a result, I've continued to stay at my grandma's for the weekends, even though she's been home for a couple of weeks now. But she seems to enjoy my company, and I think she's a hoot. Plus, it keeps me away from my house where Mom and Steph are always hiding things whenever I show up.

Now I'm not sure how I should feel about all this secrecy. Is it because they're afraid I won't like what they're doing? And if that's the case, shouldn't I be a little concerned? Or is it that they simply want to surprise me? I just can't say, but I know that they like to tease me sometimes. Like last weekend when Steph said, “You should see the napkins your mom got for the wedding. Wow, they are
really
pink.”

“Really pink?” I asked.

“Well, more magenta, I suppose. But hey, it was a good deal.”

“Mom?” I felt my eyes getting big.

Mom thought this was great fun and played right along. “And then I found this great sale on candles at the craft store. Of course, they were leftover candles from Christmas, so I got them for practically nothing.”

“Christmas candles and magenta napkins?”
I knew they were stringing me along me now, but still.

“The Christmas candles are just basic white tapers,” my mom assured me. “A nice shade of white and they're dripless.”

“And the napkins?”

“Pale pink.” She grinned. “The truth is, they ordered the wrong ones and when I opened the box they really were magenta. But the lady straightened it all out, and we have pale pink now.”

“Do you think it's going to be too much pink?” I said suddenly. “I mean, I don't want it to look like a five-year-old girl's birthday party.”

“I actually think that pale pink looks quite elegant,” said Steph.

“How do you feel about balloons, Caitlin?” asked my mom.

“Balloons?” Now I wasn't sure if she was serious or not.

“Not very many. But I thought they might be fun at the reception. The lady at the craft store showed me how pretty the pale pink goes with the silver, and I thought maybe…”

I considered this. “You know, I think I'll just trust you with this.”

And that's how it's been about a lot of things. Trust. Mostly I am trusting God and reminding myself that while this day is important, it's only
one
day. It's the marriage afterward that really counts. I know some people think I'm being way too laid-back. Like when I decided on the cake. One of my mom's coworkers had gotten a birthday cake from a new little bakery on the edge of town, and Mom told me how all of the teachers just went nuts over it.

“But I thought you said that teachers would eat anything,” I reminded her.

“No, it was really good. And you still haven't ordered one yet. I think we should go check it out.” And so Mom and I did. And although the exterior of the bakery didn't look like much, the interior was clean and bright, and the woman working there (also the owner) was knowledgeable and helpful and even let us sample several different kinds of cake. And then I looked through her
binder notebook full of photos of cakes she'd made in the past. I was blown away. “These are beautiful.”

“Thanks.” She smiled. “We used to run a bakery in the city, but we're trying to slow our lifestyle down. Unfortunately, it's been a little too slow. By this time of year, I'm usually completely booked for wedding cakes.”

“So, I'm lucky.”

“I'll say.” She laughed. “Most brides-to-be have their cakes ordered six months in advance.”

My mom gave me “the look,” and I just shrugged. “I've been kind of busy.” But then I picked out a cake that I really liked and asked if she could make the roses a really pale pink. “Almost white,” I told her. “I'd like the cake to look as if it's almost completely white.”

“Sounds pretty,” she said as she made notes.

“And can we have one layer in chocolate, one in lemon, and one in white?”

“No problem.”

And just like that we were done and out of there. “Thanks, Mom,” I told her. “You were right.”

She smiled. “See, mothers do know a thing or two.”

I laughed. “Hey, Mom, the older I get the smarter you seem.”

“I was just thinking the same thing about you, honey. And I admire that you're not getting stressed about all the details. We could all learn something from you.”

I don't know about that, but I am somewhat reassured to know that I probably won't be some grouched-out, falling apart, frazzled bride on June 1. My
plan is to be as cool and calm as possible. I want to be ready to enjoy the day as much as I hope my guests will. I'm hoping Josh will do the same. After all, it's supposed to be a fun day–not a stressed-out picture-perfect affair that's only meant to impress people.

Speaking of not impressing people, Josh and I made the china and silver decision. And it was no. Of course, neither of our mothers was overly thrilled. Then Josh and I went to Target (otherwise known as Tar-jay with a French accent) to look at some more practical dishes and things. And what do you know? They actually have a bridal registry there. And feeling a bit silly, not to mention greedy, we went through the store and listed every item that we thought would be useful for our “house-hold.”

But here's the funny thing: We won't even have a “household” for a while. I suppose we could take a few things down to Mexico, but I have a feeling that most of our gifts will go into storage until the end of the summer. But we'll figure it out. But at least we're in agreement. We're both committed to spending a full summer in Mexico and then seeing what God has for us after that. I guess this is what you call living by faith.

Of course, Tony's made it clear that he doesn't want to lose Josh, and that he'll still have a full-time position for him in the fall (another seminary student will fill in during the summer). But neither Josh nor I know for sure what comes next. Mostly I need to focus on school, finals, graduation, and this wedding. I don't even know where
we'll be for the honeymoon, but Josh assured me he's handling it. More room for trust.

What a day this has been. After cramming all last week and taking finals this week, as well as trying to get all my ducks in a row to graduate next weekend, I was totally exhausted by the time Josh picked me up at the dorm last night. I actually slept all the way home, and I felt bad because I know Josh wanted to talk. Then I slept in this morning until nearly noon and didn't do much until I finally showered and dressed in time to be picked up by Josh at five-thirty. He was all apologetic that we only had about an hour to eat dinner.