Island Girl (55 page)

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Authors: Lynda Simmons

BOOK: Island Girl
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I patted the chair and waited until she sat down. “What color do you want?”
She sighed and plucked at her stop-sign red hair with the dark roots. The color change was going to be her wedding gift to Mark and my mom. She still didn’t like the idea of the marriage, but Liz had talked to her for a long time on the phone, and I don’t know what she said, but it must not have been “Ruby’s a bitch,” because Jocelyn stopped avoiding my mom and started talking about dresses, which sure made Mark a whole lot happier. But seeing her come down the aisle with a new hair color would let him know she really was on his side again.
“I’m naturally a brunette,” she said. “But can you do something more interesting?”
I laughed and threw a cape over her shoulders. “Jocelyn, I can do interesting like nobody else.”
I had to admit Lori’s setup was better than anything my mom and I had at Chez Ruby, with no juggling of counter space or waiting for the sink, and I had that red stripped and those foils applied in half the time it would have taken me at home. Three hours later, Jocelyn’s hair was shiny, sleek, and definitely interesting, with chunky streaks of copper and gold that caught the light and made her green eyes sparkle.
“Aren’t you a picture?” Mary Anne said, gliding into Lori’s sunroom like a movie star in a gauzy Indian cotton skirt and matching gypsy blouse; shedding her straw hat, shoulder bag, and sandals all along the way. Watching Lori frown, I knew it was going to take her a while to get used to the old Chez Ruby bunch.
“You are positively gorgeous,” Mary Anne said to Jocelyn, leaning forward for a closer look. “You must promise never to do that wretched red again.”
“I promise,” Jocelyn said, smiling and sneaking another glance at herself as she slid out of my chair to make room for Mary Anne. “See you at the house.”
“Mark’s there with Ruby,” Mary Anne said. “If you want to surprise him with that hair at the wedding, you should go straight to my house and phone him. Tell him to bring Ruby over here and then start getting himself ready. Tell him it’s bad luck to see the bride after noon on their wedding day. That should get him moving.”
She began taking out pins, letting down all that hair while I swept up, making sure my station was orderly and neat at all times—
Job one at Lori’s Spa
, so I’d been told.
When Mark arrived with my mom, she sat down in the barber’s chair that used to be ours and said, “Make me beautiful, sweetheart.” Then she turned to Mary Anne, and the two of them started talking about the wedding, and I took a look around and decided I was going to like working here.
When I finished with them, Mary Anne patted the flowers in her hair and smiled at my mother in the mirror. “We shall be the most beautiful wedding party ever to walk the streets of Ward’s Island.”
“We’ll definitely be the noisiest,” my mom said, applying one more layer of spray to curls that were supposed to be soft and springy. She checked both sides of her hair, demanded a mirror to see the back, and then pulled me into a hug. “Beautiful job, Grace. Thank you.” She hesitated for a moment. “I should do your hair now.”
Fortunately, Mary Anne took her arm. “No time for that. Lori can help her out, I’m sure.”
“I’ll be ready for you in just a moment,” Lori said. “Have a seat at the sink and relax. You’ve been working hard all morning.”
My mom and Mary Anne left in a swirl of pale blue Indian cotton, Lori fastened the cape around my neck, and I leaned back—closing my eyes while she washed my hair with shampoo that smelled like lavender, and neither of us said a word about my mother.
But it turned out she was right about ours being the noisiest wedding procession ever to hit the Island streets. That will happen when you have a piper and a drummer leading the way.
We were in the garden having pictures taken when we heard them coming from the ferry. We’d known there would be a piper—what Scot gets married without one?—but the drummer was a surprise. Celtic Fire, the two men called themselves, and from the moment they stepped into our garden, I couldn’t stop tapping my feet and wishing Liz were there to do the Highland fling.
“That is not music,” Jocelyn said, standing with Mary Anne and me by the birdbath for one more shot of the bridesmaids. The mockingbirds must have agreed because they hadn’t poked their heads out of the lilac once since the pipes arrived.
The photographer held up a hand. “Smile, ladies.”
“I’ll bet he likes bagpipes,” Jocelyn muttered, looking miffed but pretty in a short emerald green halter dress and matching flip-flops. Her bouquet was white daisies—same as mine and Mary Anne’s—but she had stuck a red rose in the center of hers, just because she was Jocelyn, and no one thought to mind.
Beside her, Mary Anne looked fabulous in floor-length pink froth and I was happy with the bold tribal-print sheath Jocelyn had picked up for me and my mother had called “intriguing” when I showed it to her the first time.
“And one more shot by the stairs,” the photographer called.
My mother waved a hand. “No more pictures. It’s time to get this show on the road.”
I don’t know if it was the way the light was coming through the trees or the way she was smiling, but my mother looked wonderful there by the roses. Not glamorous like one of those magazine brides with their big gowns and their big veils. But simply elegant, as Mary Anne had said, in an ivory silk dress with cap sleeves, ruched waist, and a tiered skirt that skimmed her calves and swirled when she danced.
She’d spent most of yesterday searching drawers and boxes for Great-Grandma Lucy’s tartan sash, and now wore it draped over her left shoulder and pinned on her right hip with the same pewter broach Grandma Lucy had worn at her wedding. Instead of a veil, she had tucked a red rose into her hair, with a sprig of white heather for luck.
“You do your grandma proud,” Mary Anne said, handing my mother the bouquet she kept leaving behind on chairs or the table or in someone else’s hands.
“Maybe so, but Mark’s going to wonder where I am.” She tried to pass the flowers to Jocelyn. “Come on, you girls.”
Mary Anne pressed the bouquet back into her hands. “Ruby, you’re going to need this.”
“And we need to go.” She waved the bouquet at Jocelyn and me. “Come on, girls, there’s a wedding happening someplace today.”
We laughed and Celtic Fire went through the gate ahead of us, the piper already warming up for our walk to the clubhouse. Most of our neighbors were going to the wedding and were gathered on the street, all dressed up for a party.
Benny hollered, “Ruby you’re a looker, just like your grandma.”
My mom wiggled her hips, and everybody clapped, and we followed the piper through the narrow streets to the clubhouse.
People waiting for the ferry took pictures, and we laughed and waved. It wasn’t until we were almost at the door of the tent that my mom grabbed my arm and walked beside me.
“Where’s my notebook? I need my notebook.”
“It’s here,” I said, showing her the sequined evening bag that Mary Anne had picked out and trusted to my care. “The notebook will be in here tonight, because you don’t have a pocket.”
“I don’t know why.” She took the notebook and pen from the purse. “All dresses should have pockets.”
She left the procession and ran to a picnic table by the Clubhouse Café. I waved the piper to stay where he was, and ran after her. She was already sitting down, writing in her notebook when I got there.
Thak Mark for drmer
.
“Mom, what are you doing?”
“Making a note.” She frowned at the page. “I think I spelled some things wrong. Ah well, what can you do.” She smiled at me and tucked everything back into the evening bag. “You’ll remind me again later where that is,” she said, and headed back to the tent.
I picked up her bouquet from the table and followed.
With only a few minutes left, most of the guests had gone into the tent to find a seat.
“What were you thinking?” Mary Anne asked, dusting the back of my mom’s dress, adjusting her sash, straightening the flower in her hair. Returning her to elegant once more. Mary Anne took the bouquet from me and handed it to my mother one more time. “Do not put these down until I tell you to, okay?”
My mom smiled. “Okay.” She turned to the piper. “There’s a wedding happening someplace today. Do you know where?”
“You’re too funny, Ruby,” he said, and went ahead into the tent while we arranged ourselves into a proper line for our entrance.
Mary Anne had hired a string quartet to play for the wedding, and they were entertaining the guests with their pretty songs. But they were drowned out completely when the piper blew his opening notes and started down the aisle.
I couldn’t wait, I had to peek around the curtain. All the seats were filled, the justice of the peace was at the arbor, and Mark and his friend Seth Harrison were coming in from the right, wearing short black jackets and kilts! Donaldson tartan kilts! Blue background with green and black plaid, just like Great-Grandma Lucy’s sash. My mom was going to be so surprised!
The piper stopped playing when he reached the arbor and the trio started up again with Pachelbel’s Canon—our signal to start walking.
“Oh my God, what’s my dad wearing?” Jocelyn whispered.
“A kilt,” I whispered back.
“Why?” she hissed, and stepped out.
Poor Jocelyn. I knew she was nervous, but she held her head up and her shoulders back. Cameras flashed, her three friends waved, and Mark’s face lit up when he saw who was coming.
Mary Anne laughed. “That man is going to bust some buttons if he gets any prouder of that daughter of his. Okay, go,” she said to me. “And Ruby, you come back here.”
I took a deep breath, positioned my flowers, and I walked. Nice and slow, head up, shoulders back. Cameras flashed at me too. People smiled. Joe smiled and I could feel my face get all warm. I looked for Liz but didn’t see her anywhere. Then again, she never did promise to come.
When I reached the arbor the music changed, and my mom and Mary Anne started down the aisle together. It wasn’t supposed to be that way. It was supposed to be Mary Anne first and then my mom all by herself.
Nobody gives me away, Grace. I go on my own
. But she must have changed her mind, because she was holding Mary Anne’s arm and walking nice and slow.
More cameras flashed, and Mark whispered to Seth, “She is so goddamn beautiful,” and I was sure I heard those buttons give way as my mom came closer.
When they reached the arbor, Mary Anne went to stand beside me, and my mom stepped into her place beside Mark. My mom smiled and said, “Love the kilt.”
“You better,” Mark growled, and my mom laughed.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the justice of the peace said, “please be seated.”
When everyone was sitting down again, the justice of the peace looked past my mom to the back door.
I turned my head to see what was happening, and there were Liz and Nadia, tiptoeing into the tent, trying to blend into the wall while they searched for a seat.
Of course every head was turned by that time and my mom finally looked over her shoulder. When she saw Liz she stopped breathing for a moment and she put a hand to her mouth. “Liz,” she said softly, and looked back at Mark. “It’s Liz.”
There were no seats left, so two men in the back row stood up and motioned for Nadia and my sister to sit down. Liz shook her head, she didn’t want to be a bother, I could see it on her face. But the men insisted and she and Nadia finally sat down, and all those heads turned right back around.
My mom’s eyes had tears in them now. Mary Anne handed her a tissue, and Mark took her hand and drew her around again so they could get married.
“Ladies and gentlemen, a wedding is a time for celebration.”
The JP went on about the institution of marriage and the tradition of marriage, but my mom wasn’t really listening. She kept glancing back at Liz, and then at Mark, then back at Liz, and finally he took her arm and drew her to him so she had no choice but to pay attention.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the bride and groom have chosen their own vows for the exchange of rings.” He motioned to Mark. “Mark Bernier, are you ready to make your vow to Ruby?”
They hadn’t told each other what they were going to say because my mom wanted to be surprised. Mary Anne said that could be dangerous, but it sounded like a good idea to me.
Mark had a cue card, but he didn’t need it. He just looked into my mother’s eyes and started in, reciting a poem by Robbie Burns. “As fair you are, my bonnie lass, so deep in love am I. And I will love you still, my Dear, till all the seas go dry. Till all the seas go dry, my Dear, and rocks melt with the sun. I will love you still, my Dear, while the sands of life shall run.”
He took her hand and slid the ring onto her finger. My mom looked at it and said, “Oh my,” and raised the tissue again.
“He did well,” Mary Anne whispered, and used a tissue herself. “Very well.”
Mark turned to the JP and shrugged. “I hope that’s enough because it’s all I’ve got.”

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