S.D. Youngren - Rowena 6 - Rowena Moves In.txt Read online

  Rowena Goes To A Wedding

  Fiction by S. D. Youngren

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  Rowena shook her head, even though her mother was on the phone and couldn't see her. "I can't make it that Saturday," she said. "An old friend of Sammy's is getting married, and he asked Sammy to--"

  "A wedding!" her mother cried. "He's taking you to a wedding? How exciting! Aren't you excited?"

  "Well--"

  "Do you think it'll give Sammy Ideas?"

  "Mother--"

  "Be prepared," her mother said. "Check out the wedding gown and the bridesmaids' dresses and the decorations at the reception and the food and everything, and remember everything you like. And make sure you look really, really good."

  "Mother--"

  "You'll need a gorgeous new dress--make that a new wardrobe--and a new hairstyle, a makeover, a manicure--"

  "Mo-ther! In the first place, this is somebody else's wedding, not mine. In--"

  "For heaven's sake, Rowena."

  "In the second place, Sammy likes me the way I am."

  Rowena's friend Terese, sitting at ease on Rowena's couch a few feet away, said, "So there!" in tones Rowena's mother, unfortunately, couldn't hear.

  "He likes you, but is he marrying you? Rowena--"

  "Mother, there is no rush. Things are fine the way they are. I--"

  "What a stubborn daughter I raised. You must take after your father."

  Rowena took a breath. "Listen," she said.

  "Let me tell you a secret," her mother said. "I've still got the bobby pins I was wearing when I married your father. I can loan them to you; they can be your 'something borrowed.' I've been thinking about this for a long time; for the old thing, we can--"

  "Mom, thank you; I'm touched, really. But right now there's no--"

  "I've got an idea!" her mother interrupted. "You know what you should do? You should bring your sister and Chester."

  "What?"

  "Rowena, your poor sister has such a hard--"

  "She's not invited. I can't go around bringing--"

  "Oh, Rowena. Two more people; what harm can it do? I'm sure somebody who was invited will fail to show up."

  "Mother, I am not--"

  "And if you don't catch the bouquet, maybe she will."

  "Ah," said Rowena. "Is that it?"

  "Rowena--"

  "You just want to double your chances of unloading one of us--"

  "Rowena! What a thing to say!"

  "What a thing to do. Mother, it's not only unspeakably tacky and rude, but that bouquet thing is just a silly--"

  "And there's the garter, too."

  "Silly superstition, and--"

  "And if Maralynne does catch the bouquet, you can tell Sammy that you have to get married first because you're the oldest, and--"

  "Are you listening to a word I'm saying?"

  "What a way to talk to your only mother who only wants the best for you."

  "Mother. I know you're only trying to look out for--"

  "Now, be a good girl," her mother told her. "Fix yourself up and invite your sister--"

  "I can't do that."

  "Oh, Rowena. Be reasonable."

  Rowena put down her teacup. "It could have been worse," she said. She did her best to imitate her mother's voice. "'Maybe you should wear basketball shoes and take a butterfly net so you'll be sure to catch the bouquet.'"

  Terese put her coffee cup down just in time. "Rowena!" she gasped, laughing.

  "A slight exaggeration," Rowena said. "Perhaps."

  Terese composed herself. "So. You say Sammy's going to be an usher."

  "An actual member of the Wedding Party," Rowena said. "Yes, he is. And he hasn't seen these people--the groom and the Best Man and the other ushers--for some time. So it'll be pretty exciting for him."

  "And for you?"

  "Well, I won't know too many people, but it's a party, and Sammy'll be there." Terese looked at her.

  "Don't tell anybody," she said, "but I'm not always all that cynical at weddings." Rowena smiled and picked up her teacup. "What about you?" Terese asked.

  Rowena hesitated. "Come on," Terese said. "Don't you get just a little sentimental?"

  "Not if my mother's around."

  Terese looked over her right shoulder, then her left. "I don't see her," she said. "Now 'fess up. You do get a bit sentimental, don't you?"

  Rowena smiled, then gazed off out the window. "I do," she said, "if you want to know the truth. But every time I think of my mother . . ."

  "So don't think about your mother," Terese said. She leaned forward to pat Rowena's arm. "She won't be there. But Sammy will. And don't be surprised if it isn't a bit romantic."

  "I'd be surprised if it wasn't," Rowena said. "Sammy . . . Sammy makes things romantic." She glanced up at her friend, embarrassed. "He . . . I mean . . ."

  "You mean," said Terese, her voice unusually gentle, "that you guys are pretty serious."

  "Yeah," Rowena said. "Don't tell my mom, but . . . . Yeah, I'd say so."

  "Well, that's how it looks to me." She patted Rowena's arm again. "So. You're going to this nice wedding, and you're going to go ahead and get as romantic as you like despite the fact that it wouldn't annoy your mother if she knew."

  "I don't try to annoy my mother. I just . . . try to stay out of her clutches."

  Terese laughed. "C'mon, Cinderella. Now you can go to the ball."

  "We'll see, Fairy Godmother," Rowena replied. "We'll see."

  "How's that?" Rowena held up the package, newly resplendent in the doves-and-roses pattern they had picked out. Inside were four champagne flutes; lead crystal, faceted, sparkling. Sammy had wanted to give something romantic.

  "Beautiful," Sammy said. He admired it a moment, then handed her the card. "Why don't you sign it?" he asked.

  Rowena hesitated, then opened the card and took the pen Sammy offered. While she was wrapping the gift, Sammy had not only signed the card but, as it turned out, added an inscription. "To Will and Melissa," he'd written. "Wishing you much joy and love in your life together."

  Rowena looked up. "That's sweet. What you wrote."

  He smiled. "You approve?"

  "Of course." She looked at the card again, then put it down on the table and signed her name under Sammy's. "It seems a little funny, though," she remarked, giving the card one more look before handing it back to Sammy, "my signing it when they've never met me or anything."

  "You're still a guest at their wedding. And you may meet them at the reception." Sammy took the card, studied it. "I just think it's a little odd having two signatures with different last names," he said. "Other than that . . ."

  "I suppose," Rowena remarked, "there must be a lot of that these days."

  "I suppose," said Sammy. He took another look at the card, first the inside and then the front; and then picked up the envelope, slid the card inside, and sealed it. After they'd settled on the gift, Sammy had invited her to take a closer look at the cookware he'd caught her admiring despite its not being on the registry list. "What, for me?" she'd asked. "I can't afford those."

  "Let's look at them anyway," Sammy had said. "Maybe someday somebody will have an excuse to buy them for you."

  Promptly after work the day before the wedding, Rowena took Sammy to the church for the wedding rehearsal. Rowena would not be in the rehearsal, of course; she was going along to meet the other members of the wedding party before the rehearsal began. She'd been a bit taken aback to find that she would also not attend the dinner afterwards, which was to be followed by a bachelor party. "I'm afraid it
's rather tedious for you," Sammy had said. "But if you like you can drive me there, and I'll get a ride back."

  "Sure," Rowena had said, thinking that it sounded like a long night.

  "Sorry about this," Sammy said now. "I'd rather have you along myself."

  "Well . . . yeah." Rowena stopped at a traffic light and reached over and put her hand on his knee; Sammy put his own hand over hers, closing his fingers around it. They held hands until the light changed.

  At least she had a little time with him. A little time.

  At the church they found several other members of the wedding party standing outside in little groups, waiting. Somebody caught sight of Sammy and waved.

  "That's Bill," said Sammy, as they approached. "I told you about him."

  "Bill? Of the Bill and Will and Jill Club?"

  "That's the one. But don't mention Jill, please; the groom's old girlfriend, you know."

  Rowena laughed. "I'll be good," she said. Sammy patted her arm. "Which one is Will?"

  "Over there, in the group by the door." Will would be the youngest of the men there; the two others were older, at least as old as Rowena's father. With them was a dark-haired young woman Rowena took to be the bride--yes, she was holding Will's hand, and now leaning up against him. Sammy patted her arm again, and then as they drew near he let go of her and held out his hand to Bill.

  "Hey. How's it going?"

  "Sammy! Long time." Rowena watched them shake hands, waited for Sammy to introduce her, which he soon did.

  "Nice to meet you," Bill said. "Hope you don't believe anything Sammy may have said about me. At least, not unless you're willing to hear what I have to say about him."

  "I thought you guys were supposed to make fun of Will today," Rowena said.

  "Oh, God; don't remind me; I'm supposed to do the toast." He rolled his eyes and leaned in towards Sammy. "Mr. Best Man Pete is too shy."

  "You're looking forward to it," countered somebody else. "You know you are. Sammy; how goes it?"

  "Pretty good." Another handshake. "Got yourself a mustache, huh? May wonders never cease."

  "I'll skip the question about whether you've changed. Good to see you."

  "And you, Andy. I'd like you to meet my girlfriend, Rowena. Rowena, Andy is the groom's brother."

  "Hi, Rowena; good to meet you."

  "Good to meet you."

  "So where is Pete?"

  "Not here yet. I think the Best Man is the one who needs help--a Second-Best Man, I suppose."

  "I've got a Cracker Jacks ring," said Bill, "just in case. Emergency backup."

  "Oh, no." Rowena hadn't meant to say it. Bill grinned at her.

  "Don't worry," he said. "We'll keep him in line."

  "He'll be okay," Sammy said. "He'll be fine."

  "Here he comes," Andy said.

  And the Best Man was there, and Rowena was introduced again; and the group by the door came over and she met Will and Melissa and Melissa's father--of course one of the men was Melissa's father--and the minister who would perform the service.

  "Well," said the minister, "let's get started." Rowena said goodbye to Sammy, told him to have a good time, and left.

  She went home and fixed herself dinner. She washed the dishes, something she rarely did alone on Fridays, even when she and Sammy didn't eat out. She read for several hours, occasionally looking at the clock and wondering what Sammy was doing, and whether he was enjoying himself. Normally on a Friday night they would be together somewhere--out somewhere; at her place or his; in bed. Even when Sammy worked late, he usually managed to call her. He did not call tonight. Eventually she put her book down and went to bed--alone, on Friday night. Friday night before somebody else's wedding.

  In the morning Rowena dressed and left for the hotel at which the out-of-town guests were staying, and where the reception would be held; she had arranged to meet Sammy there for breakfast. She brought her wedding-guest finery so that she could change at Sammy's apartment while he was getting ready; this seemed not only efficient but very cozy. She parked the car, walked into the lobby right on time, and was immediately set upon by a distressed and somewhat familiar-looking young woman.

  "I saw you yesterday, right?" the woman said. "Sammy's girlfriend?"

  "Rowena."

  "I'm Renee, the Maid of Honor. We've got a--we can't find the groom."

  "You can't find him?" Rowena looked again around the lobby, which was where Sammy was supposed to meet her. He wasn't there. I should have known, Rowena thought; it was a bachelor party, even if it involved Sammy and his friends. Aloud she said, "Have you tried Pete's room? They were having a party there . . ." She remembered how Sammy had told her their plan. "Don't tell Pete this, but Bill says it's not a bachelor party if you don't trash a hotel room," he'd said. She winced.

  "I tried calling there, but the line was busy. I went there and knocked on the door and nobody answered. I've called Will's place, and Andy's, and Bill's, and Sammy's, and only got their answering machines." She paused and took a breath. "And Melissa is . . ." Her voice trailed off; she looked around as if distracted. Rowena glanced around the room herself; she saw nobody she knew.

  "I've got to go," Renee said. "Could you check Pete's room again?"

  "All right," Rowena said. "Is there a number where you can be reached?"

  Renee jotted down a phone number and gave it to Rowena, "I've got one or two other places to try," she said. "The bride's mother is threatening to kill me if we can't find them." She left. Rowena took one more look around the lobby, then checked her watch. Sammy really should have been here by now. She dug Pete's room number out of her purse, and set off.

  Rowena stood before Pete's door and listened, just for a moment. She heard nothing, which meant very little, she reminded herself. She knocked, waited for a response, then knocked again. And again.

  And again.

  At any moment, she was sure, somebody would stick his head out of one of the other rooms and tell her to go away and stop making so much noise. She shut her eyes and knocked once more. "Anybody in there?" she called.

  She was answered this time by a muffled moan. She stepped back just a bit and waited. If nobody actually came to the door--

  But the door opened almost halfway, and there was Sammy, his hair very rumpled. He was still in the clothes he'd worn the night before. "Hi," he said. "It is you. What time is it?"

  She looked at her watch. "Eight forty-three."

  "Oh--breakfast. Right." He tried unsuccessfully to hide a yawn. "Sorry I'm late. I, um, overslept."

  "Is Will in there? I saw Renee downstairs; she's frantic."

  "Renee? Oh--right." Sammy turned back to face into the room. "Will?" he called. "Will?"

  Somebody Rowena couldn't see mumbled something unintelligible. "Check the bathtub," Sammy said. "Is he still in there?"

  "Oh, right," said the voice, a little more clearly.

  "The bathtub?" Rowena asked.

  "Yeah, that's where he slept last night. Closer to the toilet, if you know what I mean."

  "Found him!" somebody said. And then, "Hey, Sammy!"

  "'Scuse me." And Sammy went to answer the summons, leaving the door ajar. The part of the room Rowena could see was not exactly "trashed," but the party hadn't done it any favors. The groom and his other attendants were nowhere in sight, but Rowena heard somebody turn the shower on.

  "Come on," said a voice inside the bathroom. "You can do it."

  Presently Sammy returned, still fully clothed but rather damper than he had been. "He's here . . . .He's fine--he'll be fine," he said. In the bathroom somebody said, "Whoops!" and somebody else laughed.

  Rowena noted Sammy's correction, but decided not to respond to it. "Good," she said. "Listen, Renee tried to call, but only got busy signals."

  Sammy looked at her a moment, then ducked his head briefly back into the room. "The phone's off the hook," he said.

  "Yes, well, maybe you should put it back on," Rowena said. He looked at her.
/>   "That's a good idea," he said.

  Rowena took a breath. "And then call Renee," she said. "And tell her . . . Tell her Will's here and . . ."

  "Renee?" Sammy considered. "I'll tell her Will's here . . . and he'll be okay. Okay and on time. He was . . . celebrating, but he'll be okay."

  "He will?"

  "Yep," Sammy said. "Promise."