Our Family Wedding VIII: All in The Family

 Encore. I love stories. Words. The way perspectives can be completely changed with just a well-placed word or nudged with a subtle suggestion here and there. There’s nothing like it. I really love this story because it’s one that I was excited to share from the beginning, with no idea how it would end, that never happens. It was fun discovering how it unfolded along with everyone else when I first shared, but I have to confess I always felt disappointed by the ending. So I was excited last winter when I was approached to submit the Family Wedding series for an audio webcast. It was a chance to revisit the characters and find an ending that felt true - it’s still the beginning of something, and it gives as many questions as answers. But I like it...

Our Family Wedding VII: Strangers at the Wedding

Previously: Our Family Wedding VI (Velda)

“I Do.” Two words, and you change the lives of everyone in a room, even if you don’t know them. If looks could kill… but there’s no going back now. You’re here and, even though you don’t want to, it’s too late to take it back. You came to right a wrong, maybe even repay a little bit of the hurt that’s been eating at you for years. But you don’t expect to be surprised. This is not a dream. You’re looking right at them and you can hardly get the next words out. Still, you already spoke up. 

"She cannot marry him. She is married to me."

(Him) Bad Things Happen to Good People.

I met her in my second year in college, at the Vet's office in the city. It was one of the many jobs I took to cover my tuition expenses. It was an ordinary day, and it changed my life forever. She was a beauty. I knew I did not stand a chance with her – girls like her never gave guys like me a second look. But she never did play by anyone's rules but hers. And she wanted me; she always joked that I reminded her of a guy back home who loved her almost as much as I did. She also joked that her parents would die if they ever found out who she was with. And then one day a year later she asked me to marry her.

I thought it was another one of the cruel jokes she played on everyone for her own enjoyment, but she was serious. We loved each other and she was willing to defy her parents for me. We were married secretly, and we promised ourselves a one-month honeymoon before we would tell everyone and face the consequences. She disappeared three weeks later, and I never heard from her again. Her friends who only tolerated me when I was with her could not hide their disdain for me as they made it clear that my wife was gone, and she did not want to be found.

I spent months trying to deal with losing her. But then there was a tragic murder in our family, so I gave up on finding her and returned home to run the business. 

Until an invitation I could not ignore showed up in the mail.

(Her) Good Things Happen to Bad People too...

That's what I said to myself when she announced she was getting married, and to a prince, no less. She was so happy, it was painful to watch. She finally had everything, it seemed - a fantastic wedding in the works, a wonderful charming husband-to-be, a childhood love that refused to let go, tons of money and friends, the love of everyone around her, a perfect life. Her bright smile never wavered. Dress shopping, flowers, the honeymoon. Guest lists, linens, too many bridal showers. The perfection of it all. I hated her more than usual. Living in the shadow of her perfect, happy bubble was suffocating. But soon I learned something that could bring it all crashing down like a pack of cards. And it all happened by accident. Lucky me.

Velda learned that the young Bride had married a boy at her university two days after it happened. But it was not to last. She had one weakness and Velda knew it. A ten-minute phone call was all it took, and two weeks later she was on a plane to France where she would complete her semester, and then travel around the world for a year before returning to a college of her choice, anywhere else in the world. It would be like her marriage had never happened. Only, Velda discovered much later that she disappeared without first ending the marriage as instructed, no papers were ever signed before she rushed off and disappeared. She claims she couldn’t bring herself to hurt her innocent, young husband, the one person she ever truly loved. That was surprising. Velda had it taken care of, of course, she never leaves a stone unturned, after all. Still, it was the perfect chance to shake her perfect little world up a bit and make this wedding fun, for me.

Now, we’re all looking at the only stranger in the room as he unfolds himself to stand tall on his feet. He looks surprised, like he cannot believe what he just did... but… more. He’s dazed, shocked. I feel almost sorry for him, but I know that now he has no choice. This is not something you can ever take back.

One would think that no one would be more surprised to see him than the bride, but the look of horror on her groom’s face is enough to get me curious. He looks like he has seen a ghost, and suddenly more things are falling into place...

The man who dared to stop the wedding walks up the aisle, and as he moves closer to her you could see him transform; his confidence grows and suddenly he exudes such an aura of rage that we are all held spellbound by what we know is about to happen...

"You cannot marry the one man who murdered my brother in cold blood and killed my mother with grief.”

There is a gasp from all the guests, a mumbled accusation from the groom, and tears from the bride. Even her tears are perfect. But right now, we are not looking at her. All eyes are on the only stranger in the room...

Coming up: Our Family Wedding VIII (All in the Family)

Isaiah

I woke up the other day thinking about him. The funny thing is I’ve never met him. No one has. 

A few years ago in January after a women’s meeting at church, our meeting coordinator asked a few of us stragglers to clear out the treats and snacks that had been brought for the meeting. No one wanted them (January Mood), and so she insisted we take them, and “at least give them to a homeless person”. And how can anyone say no to that?

He was laying in the recessed window outside a restaurant I loved. And once we felt comfortable from afar that he didn’t look dangerous, we approached and asked if we could share some food with him, explaining what treats we had and asking what he wanted.

Side bar: the fact that someone is hungry or down and out does not rob them of the dignity of choice. I learned that in early years dealing with the homeless in DC. Side bar end. 

He was friendly and engaged, asked us questions about ourselves, the meeting we had been at, our church. Then he told us his story. He’d had a pretty good life: a job, a home, a wife. They had been pregnant. A boy. They were going to call him Isaiah. 

But Isaiah came with a storm. Things went wrong, she almost died. Isaiah only lived a few minutes. 

Somehow after that, everything was broken. One mistake leading to another until you’re sleeping in a restaurant window in Tribeca, and your old life is so far behind it doesn’t even seem real. 

I remember his face when he says Isaiah. That one look of such intense longing. That maybe if Isaiah had stuck around, everything would be ok. 

Or maybe not, who knows? 

Today when I thought of Isaiah, I was reminded that sometimes all it takes is one moment we don’t see coming to change a whole life. Makes you think the next time you look a person in the eyes: what was the moment that changed you?

Our Family Wedding VI: Velda

 There is Nothing I Love better than the sound of silence.

As the preacher pauses dramatically at that unnecessary part of the wedding service, I can feel the nervous energy rise to a crescendo in the room. You could hear a feather drop as they all stop breathing. Even though most of them expect that it will be another part of the service, simply a formality, they cannot help their excitement, their anticipation of something extraordinary. 

And then an unfamiliar voice cuts through the silence.

"I DO"... A wildly interesting choice of words.

I smile in spite of myself. I had not expected it. Very few people surprise Velda.

I turn my attention from the oddly familiar stranger’s interruption to look into the faces around me. Every guest looks confused, shocked, wildly curious. I can hear their minds working, spinning the gossip tales they would tell as soon as they can make a dignified exit out of the oak doors of the chapel without running.

The Bride: pale as a ghost, her lips moving, no words really getting formed.

The Groom: if looks could kill.... well, it's no secret that he is capable of murder.

The Groom's Father: Bored, irritated, a man with more important things on his mind.

The Mother of the Bride: Mortified. I know that at this moment there is nothing else on her mind besides what people will say, what the gossip rags will print about the scandal that is about to unfold here. I know because that is exactly what I would be thinking. After all, she is my daughter...

I was born on the fast track. No one recalls if the first word I ever said was "More", but it is most certainly the first thought I ever formed in my pretty little head. More. I have always wanted more. More than those humble two rooms that formed the house I was raised in with my entire family, all six of us. More than my father's job at the Postal Office, and my mother's teaching job at the Catholic School up the street. More than the tiny shop out front that we all took turns managing, earning pennies to keep the roof over our heads and the clothes on our backs. More than the regular occurrence of a free novel and a bright pencil for once again being the smartest one in the class. More than that whistle, that longing look, the scribbled poems and whispered words that men lavished on me. There was only one thing I never needed more of: I was more than beautiful, and everyone knew it.

Working hard, being a great student and settling for the best jobs in the world would not give me the life I wanted. My parents were smart, educated and they worked harder than all the wealthy people I knew, and they worked themselves to the bone day after weary day. I wanted to be like the women I read about and only saw in magazines; they had the world at their feet, and everyone scrambled to do their bidding. I learned to think like them and talk like them and act like them. I watched their men too, they owned everything, even the women. That was the life I chose, all I needed was a fortune to call my own. As soon as I was old enough, I was out of school, choosing to use my beauty and my intelligence for a far greater purpose. I was married and divorced a few times, each time ending up even richer than anyone imagined I could get away with.

People always thought I was too beautiful to be smart.

George's family did too and they underestimated me. He was seventy-nine, battling the weakness that comes with old age, confused that his mind was as sharp as the days when he built the largest business empire in the country while his body died a little more every day. While everybody rallied around, his sons and protégés, treating him with disdain and waiting for him to die and leave them chunks of his life's work, I became his friend. I was barely thirty, and I married him and devoted three years to him alone, showing him the time of his life. He taught me how to rule an empire. "Owning wealth is wonderful", he always said, "but you have to control the people around you. You have to own them." I gave him the one gift he asked of me in return for the one thing I wanted: a little girl of his own in exchange for wealth and an empire. We spent the last few years together in a secluded villa outside the country, and when he was gone, his only daughter and I were heiresses with more money than I knew what to do with. 

We had both won. He showed them all, leaving his family with nothing, and I finally had what I wanted, a kingdom to rule. 

A mysterious heiress, that is what they call me. Some even say I killed him myself after he signed the will.

I bought the villa the morning he died, hired the best caregivers in the world for my daughter, and I returned home alone. For six years she was raised in the villa by herself, protected from the world. Years later, I brought her home with me claiming her real parents had died tragically in another country. I told myself it is for her safety that no one knows that she really is mine. 

But I have always looked after her. She has never worked a day in her life, and everything she owns has been handed to her on a platter of gold, including her husband, her marriage. I ask for nothing in return from her, from all of them, except complete obedience. I own them, all of them in this room, their businesses, their homes, their secrets.

It is not really a secret that I do not approve of this laughable charade, this marriage that will never be. But even the most powerful people get tired of pulling all the strings and working behind the scenes. I am an old woman, ready to dance with the devil for eternity and pay for my many sins. It is not enough to be rich and famous and powerful and then die while no one is watching. I want more. And now it seems I have found my stage.

I look at all their faces again and smile to myself. More.

Coming up: Our Family Wedding VII (Strangers at the Wedding)

Our Family Wedding V: Father of the Groom

Nine Hours Before I have to be on a plane to Mexico. Six hours ago, I should have been in a meeting with the team in Canada. Oil in Canada will not wait for my son's wedding.

My Son. 

I could not control the loud scoff that escaped my lips with that thought if I tried. But I quickly remember where I am as my wife pinches my arm, reminding me to behave myself. I attempt to stare her down with a dark look; a futile attempt really, the woman has never been a pushover, or we wouldn't be here. A supportive family putting on a lavish ceremony for our undeserving son. The bane of my existence. A murderer, a waste. If I had my way he would be far away, a destitute, not living off my wealth like he has a right to it. But his mother always has the last word, and because she wants us to be here, here we are. 

For a man feared by many, my wife has a big influence on most of my actions. Lesser men would say she wears the pants in our home. I say, I love her, and why not indulge the woman who has sacrificed most of her life to give me a wonderful home? I know I am a difficult man, and yet she has never complained. Letting her have this day is one of the ways I reward her for pleasing me. 

Of course, there is another woman here who holds the reins on my decisions even more firmly than my wife does. Her wishes to me are law. I look to my left and watch in fond amusement as she sits still in her pew, her back straight, eyes fixed on an unseen object in the front of the chapel. Velda. Tough matriarch. The single most feared woman in the room. And my benefactor.

No one remembers now, but there was a time when my now-sprawling empire was only a far-fetched dream. I was a young man with a shell of an inheritance and big dreams, and no means of ever achieving them. And then a mysterious heiress changed my whole life in one afternoon. No one really knows the true source of Velda's wealth, and naturally I was curious, but when she offered me her unlimited means to pursue my dreams of reviving my family’s legacy by tapping into the earth's liquid gold, I asked no questions. In seven years, I was wealthier than I had ever imagined. And now, thirty years later, Velda still remains in the background, giving advice, planning the great future, pulling the strings, learning my many secrets...

Like my son. 

Many years ago, I had gone to Velda with fury and murder on my mind. My wife had come to me with good news that after years of trying unsuccessfully to have a child, she was finally pregnant. I knew without a doubt that she had been unfaithful, it was impossible for me to have children. Velda had listened quietly, without judgement, speaking only after I said all that was on my mind. She looked me in the eyes and said firmly "You will go home, tell your wife that you are happy and excited about the news, and you will love that child like he was your own. You need an heir. No one ever needs to know. No one." It was difficult, but Velda was right. So, I accepted my first son, and my twin daughters, knowing every day of their lives that they were proof of the greatest betrayal from the woman I loved with my whole being.

Only, a secret I thought I could live with turned out to be almost too much to handle. Our son grew from a delightful boy into a reckless young man. The ungrateful bastard has caused me and his mother more grief than any other problems we have ever had to deal with. From the horrible behavior all through his younger years, to more dangerous activities as a teenager, all culminating in the murder of an innocent man outside a bar abroad. At every turn, his mother pleaded and I obliged her, paying off the best lawyers to make his troubles go away. But after he was convicted, I knew that he could never inherit my empire. His mother asks why I hate him, it is not hard to point at his actions instead of his conception...

I look away from him and exchange a nod and smile with his Best Man. He could be my heir. He lost his family at a young age and we officially adopted him as our own. It was the best decision we ever made. He is everything I want in a son: smart, respectful, responsible. Velda agrees. It was also a brilliant coincidence that he was in love with Velda's god-daughter. We had it all planned out, we would wait until she was done with her MBA, and guide them gently into a lasting relationship together. He would be my heir, she would be Velda's heiress, as well as her father's. Together, we would create the greatest empire in the country, and I would finally have a son I could be proud of.

But as she walks down the aisle towards the wrong son, I have no choice but to accept that even without a penny to his name, he has again thwarted my plans, reminding me why I hate him so much. But there is still time to put our plans together. Velda has a plan and she is patient. So am I.

We all face the priest.

"Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here today in the sight of God, and in the face of these witnesses, to join this Man and this Woman together in holy matrimony; which is honorable, instituted of God..."

God. This needs to be over soon. I glance at Velda and her displeasure is evident on her face. I always wondered why she never said anything to stop this sham. But as I have learned, things are never as they seem with her. The priest continues to drone on and on about the sanctity of marriage, I tune him out as I rehearse again the few words I have prepared to sway the Board of the new company I am acquiring.

"Now, if anyone knows of any reason why these two should not be joined together in Holy Matrimony, speak now, or forever hold your peace..."

The silence gets my attention and I look around. Everyone is staring at the one person who dared to interrupt this joyous occasion. And for the first time, Velda may be smiling...

Coming up: Our Family Wedding VI (Velda)