A Woman Gone Mad (20 page)

“Whatever. I’m going to sleep, kid. I love you.”

Rolling over and adjusting my pillow, I stretch and snuggle under the covers when I hear Allen say, “Night, sis. I love you too.”

Today is Saturday, April 15
^th
, 1995, also known as my wedding day. I know—can’t you hear the excitement in my voice?

Gahh, I don’t want to get out of bed. I want to hide, runaway and nev—

“Lil, wake up, sweetie. I tried to let you sleep for as long as I could but we’re running on borrowed time now, young lady. Up, up, up, up.” My mother is fully dressed with hair and makeup done to the nines. What is it with this woman? I swear I’ll never understand where she’s coming from half the time.

“Okay, Mom, I’m up, I’m up. Now shoo. I’ll be out in a second.” I just want to be by myself. I shut and lock my bedroom door behind her and look around. Nothing in here is mine besides the furniture and the dreaded wedding gown hanging from the closet door wrapped in a dress bag.

God, I don’t want today, but you probably aren’t listening to me right now, are you?

Slipping my robe on and pulling my hair up in a messy bun, I head to leave my room when something makes me stop and look at my vanity.

Shit, I might as well.
It’s been a long time since I had a face-to-face with myself. To be honest, I’ve been avoiding the hell out of mirrors unless it’s necessary for quick makeup, hair, or clothing checks.

I settle into my vanity chair and rest my elbows on the vanity top to lean closer to the mirror.

Call me crazy—I don’t care. This is something I need to do since Lilly is still out of commission, but I talk to the young woman in the mirror like I’d look into your face and talk to you.

“All right, Lil.” Looking at my reflection, I take my hair down and it falls down my back and around my shoulders. My big blue eyes are sparkling and my face is glowing because of the pregnancy.

“Today you lose Lillian Shaw. You won’t be an individual anymore, and I know that scares the shit out of you, but you have got to get over it. Will this day suck? Yes, you and I both know that. But today is only one day, and tomorrow will be better.”

My reflection just stares back at me.

“I honestly think the only reason why you are dead set on the idea that today is going to be so horrible is because you’re scared. Nick’s parents—hell, Nick’s entire snobby family—will be there looking down their noses. But screw them. They can sit and spin. And when you and Nick do make it, when this marriage does last and you’re tucked into your happily ever after, then you’ll have your chance to sit back at ALL family events, act like a bitch, and just smirk at everyone.”

After pulling my hair back up into a cleaner messy bun, I glance at my reflection and wink. “Let’s go become Mrs. Nicolas James, shall we?”

I walk out into the living room feeling a little better about today. Amy’s carting boxes and dress bags out of the front door and the house is buzzing with activity.

“Lil, what are you still doing in your robe? We have got to go, girl!” Amy says, struggling with the boxes and dress bags while trying to hook her foot around to close the door behind her.

“I got it, Amy.” After I help her out, I run back into my room and slip on a button-up shirt and denim shorts.

Whoa! What the hell? Why aren’t my… Well shit! Thank God my momma bought that white Scarlett O’Hara corset even though at the time I laughed at her in Victoria’s Secret for buying it.

I have another wave of anxiety flood through me. I don’t want my body to change. Stretch marks and…

“All right, that’s enough, Lil. I swear I can’t sit here and watch you unravel anymore. I’ve kept my mouth shut because, well, quite frankly I figured we were fucked. But I just can’t sit back and watch this anymore. First of all, get it together! Put on the damn cotton shorts instead of the denim ones. You are only going to the salon. Second, yes, your waist will grow, because guess what? Whether you want it there or not, there is a baby
—
a HUMAN
—
growing inside you. So stop freaking out and GET OVER IT!”

Lilly, it’s so nice of you to join me on this lovely day.

I snatch up my cotton shorts, pull them up, slip my silver flip-flops on, and head back out to where all the activity is.

“Lil, did you get your makeup bag?” Mom asks, digging through her purse.

Amy walks in, holding it above her head. “Nope, but I got it.” She winks at me. “And I got mine too.”

“Thank God you’re here, Amy. I couldn’t put eye shadow on if my life depended on it.” Kissing her cheek then turning to mom, I ask, “We ready?”

“Yes, ma’am. You?”

“I freaking guess so. Hey, if at any time y’all see me creeping towards an exit, stop me quick. Or if I am missing for more than one minute, go ahead and call the authorities. I really don’t want to hurt Nick, but I also want to run for the hills. So just keep your eyes peeled for me—or rather, for Nick.”

“Lillian, you will do no such thing. Are you riding with Amy? My car is loaded down with dress bags and flower boxes and everything else except the kitchen sink.”

“Yeah, I’m riding with Amy. However, I do see the corner of the kitchen sink poking up under the dress bags, Momma.” Kissing her cheek and turning to leave, I feel the sting of her hand connecting with my ass. Rubbing it, I shout, “OUCH! Mom! What the hell?”

She’s laughing and sliding into the front seat of her car. “What? You think I’m gonna allow that smart mouth? This may be the last day you live under my roof, girl, but I will always hold the right to pop your bottom. I’m your momma, young lady—now and always. It’s best you remember that, Lillian
Shaw
!”

God, I love my momma. Running back to where she is with her driver door still open, I lean in and kiss her cheek again. “I know, Momma. How could I not? You’re the best momma I know.”

After kissing her goodbye I’m half skipping and half jogging back towards Amy’s car when Mom pulls up beside us, rolling her window down. She has a smile from ear to ear. “Child, I’m the only momma you know.” She laughs and waves. “Okay, love y’all. See you at the salon. And, Amy, drive carefully. You drive like a maniac.”

“Yes, ma’am, Mrs. Shaw.” Amy starts the car and pulls out of the driveway to follow behind Mom. “What’s up with your mom? I don’t think I’ve ever seen her this way.”

“She gets like this when she’s nervous. Or excited. Oh, or scared. And I’m pretty damn sure she’s all three right now.”

Once we finish having our hair, nails, and facials done at the salon, we head to the church, following behind Mom’s car again. The closer we get, the more my emotions and fear begin to resurface and choke me. I can’t inhale a full breath and anxiety breaks out over my skin from the inside out.

“I need a cigarette. Amy, I can’t do this. I need a fucking cigarette.” The road in front of us blurs as tears flood my vision. I lean over, hugging my arms around my knees, hoping that if I press my chest against my legs hard enough I can hold the sob in that’s trying to claw its way out of my throat.

Amy’s rubbing my back, back and forth. “You’re going to be okay, sweetie. Just close your eyes and breathe.”

“I can’t… I can’t breathe!”

“Hey. You listen to me. I may be good but dammit, if you don’t calm down and put a lid on those tears, I’m not going to be able to make swollen and red eyes disappear like magic. Now stop it and breathe.”

After a few hundred breaths—I’m just counting breaths, not miles, not seconds, not minutes, breaths—the car comes to a stop.

Amy turns of the ignition then rubs my back again. “Okay?”

Still counting breaths, I nod against my lap.

“Come on, sister. Let’s go inside.”

I don’t know how much time passes. However, I can tell you that I’ve breathed 1,983 breaths when I finally feel a still calm settle over me, and by the grace of God, I become numb. Amy is prattling on about something beside me while she applies my makeup, and Mom is running around the room, opening dress bags and flower boxes.

“Okay, Lil. All done. Now, me and your mom are going to the dressing rooms. First, let me help you into your corset and then here are your garter belt and stockings. You do that while we get ourselves dressed.”

Amy has sewn me into the corset so tight I feel my womb pressing against my spine. And thankfully, once I’m left to my own devices, the numbness remains cloaked around me, allowing me to do as I was told to do.

My garter belt is on and I’m pulling up my stockings when I notice a small box with its lid off to the side. After my stockings are snapped on correctly, I reach over and set the small box in my lap. I see my grandmother’s old handkerchief with blue eyelet stitching around its edges and a smile spreads across my face. Love, warm and comforting, wraps around me like a blanket when I realize what I hold in my lap.

My something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue. Tucking the handkerchief in the top of my garter belt, I then pull a necklace out from the box. It’s a dainty silver chain threaded through a single round, black pearl. I love it; it fits me. It captures my emotions of this day to a T.

I clasp it around my neck, and when I see the last trinket in the box, tears once again fill my eyes. It’s the same hair comb Mom used in her hair when she married Daddy. The teeth of the comb are as long as fingers and it has black and white diamonds clustered together across the top.

I remember as a little girl this comb being the first thing I always pulled out of Momma’s special jewelry box of goodies. And she’d always say, “Nuh uh, Lil. Put that back, sweetie. Your day will come.”

“And my day has come.” I whisper to the empty room as I slide the comb in my hair where Lisa, my hair stylist, made the French braids and French twist meet at the base of my neck and staring at my reflection for the second time today, I wonder if I’m making the biggest mistake of my life or doing the one thing that will give me my happily ever after.

I’m pulling my gown up my body when Mom comes back into the bridal room and stands behind me in front of the mirror. Our eyes meet for a brief second and she smiles. Her fingers take over the lacing at the back of my dress.

“You look so beautiful, sweetie. Scared, but beautiful.” Her eyes are smiling at mine in the mirror. “I know you’re scared. It’s a big day. I was scared. Well, not on my wedding day because I was young, naïve, and in love, but I was scared the first time I stood in our kitchen and knew I was in charge of making sure my husband ate dinner.”

She laughs while her fingers are still lacing up the back of my dress. Hearing my mother laugh and seeing her eyes sparkle, I realize how happy she is. And this realization helps weaken the ugly dread that’s been eating away at my soul since all this started.

“There you go. Perfect. Okay, here’s your veil and your shoes.” She lays them on each side of the vanity. “Everyone is beginning to show up, so Amy and I have to get out there. Your daddy will be here in a second to get you when it’s time, okay?”

“Okay, Momma.” My heart feels like it’s being torn in two and I’m trying to blink away tears from my eyes again.

“I love you, Lillian, and I’m proud of you. I want you to know that.” Her lips brush my cheek and she starts making her way out to the guests.

“I love you too, Momma.” But she doesn’t hear me because she’s already closed the door behind her.

I settle the veil at the crown of my head and slip my heels on before I step back to see what Nick will see walking toward him down the aisle.

My hair is swept up in a combination of French braids and a French twist. My makeup is more dramatic than usual and absolutely perfect. My gown is a candlelight soft cream color of satin. It’s strapless and cinched tight at the waist with a pick-up-style skirt that falls into a four-foot train behind me. If I’d have picked it out myself, it couldn’t have been more perfect.

Yes, you heard that correctly. I didn’t pick out my own wedding gown. That’s how far my head has been stuck up my ass over this wedding.

But when I see the end product of all my mom’s hard work looking back at me, I feel love and hope bloom deep inside me and overshadow all my earlier doubt and fear.

I have never felt more like a damn yo-yo in my life!

A knock at the door has me taking one last glance in the mirror before making my way to open it. My daddy is standing in front of me, and the pain that washes over his features when he sees me splices though my heart.

“Hey, Daddy. It’s okay.” I reach up, hug him as tight as I can, and lay my face against his shoulder. “You look so handsome. Momma did a damn good job of dressing you up, didn’t she?”

“I think it’s wrong to say damn in a church, sweetie.” He kisses the top of my veil-covered head and pulls away, keeping both of my hands in his. “Jeez, you look so grown up, I can barely stand it.” His broken smile makes the pain in my heart ache even more. “You look just like your momma, but different too. You look beautiful, Lillian.”

Hugging his neck again, I whisper, “Thank you, Daddy.” Every single time I’ve hugged my daddy throughout my life, he’s made me feel protected and safe, just as he does again in this moment.