Colorado Springs, Colorado
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Lauri's Bio:
Lauri Griffin has three children, one husband, one dog, and a variable number of guppies. She works with gifted children and manages a literacy program for struggling readers. She also writes regularly on the subject of family fun at http://www.families.com/lauri/. Visit her blog, Lauri's Reflections http://www.laurireflections.blogspot.com for her thoughts on writing, creativity, motherhood, and fun websites that catch her attention. She is currently working on several writing projects.
It Would Mean a Lot
I hate weddings.
But Shelia called. And you can't tell your oldest friend 'no' to something like that.
We haven't talked much since she and Eric got divorced a couple of years ago. She didn't feel like I was supportive. And it wasn't that I didn't understand. I, of all people, know that things can go bad in relationships, or sour, or just slowly die. But this was Shelia and Eric. And I hated it.
She took all my pauses for not being on her side. When really, I was just remembering the way he always looked at her. How it made me thrilled for her, and a little jealous that no one looked at me that way. I was remembering how great they were when my fiance dumped me. How they kept me busy. How they wouldn't even say his name. He became "that idiot you were briefly engaged to." How we all three would stay up talking, or watching horrible old science-fiction movies on TV. How their relationship made me believe someone was out there for me.
And I wanted to say, remember the night we drove to the beach? Five hours away, and the only reason was because we could. Because we wanted to. Remember wading in the edge of the ocean in the moonlight? And remember how he used to call up our machine and tell horrible knock-knock jokes to make us laugh? Remember how we saved his messages?
As Shelia tried to explain her divorce, all I could picture was how she used to smooth her hair before she answered the phone. And if it was him, she'd sink against the wall, smiling a private smile into the receiver.
I wanted to tell her, but I danced at your wedding - I cried with happiness for you both.
Shelia's voice brings me back to the present. "It's a small wedding. It would mean a lot to us if you came."
I hate it when people in relationships say 'us' instead of 'me'. When they talk for each other.
"Of course, I'll come."
I hang up the phone wondering where Eric is, what he's doing. I sent him a holiday card a couple of times. And we emailed a few jokes back and forth. But I didn't know what to say to him either. Only that I was so sorry.
The church is tiny, more of a chapel. So small that I drove past it three times, making me late. I squeeze inside, and see Shelia standing at the altar, in a flowered dress. She turns as the door clanks shut behind me. I mouth "I'm so sorry," and rush to sit down. The man beside her turns, and suddenly I understand why she told me that she knew I'd love him. Why she said "it would mean a lot to us." Eric grins as he sends me a wink. I smile back, blinking tears, knowing I will indeed dance with joy at this wedding.
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