“I’m sorry I never came back. I mean, the last time I saw anyone was in ’89. Not only did we have the tornado damage, but there was that Bruce guy. We all thought we were going straight to hell for not letting him in Nora House during the tornado.”
“Oh, that, yes, a bit of a miscommunication there.”
Hope narrowed her eyes at the older woman. “Hmm, yes, I heard. It seems that was a bit more than miscommunication.”
“He’s fine, or was, then. Who knows now? What I do know is guilt is a waste of time. I kick myself anytime I think any of you girls tortured yourselves over that deadbeat. I haven’t.”
“Well, I don’t know about torture. I had other things happening, too, back at home. Being a young mom put the brakes on summers off.”
“I imagine so. How old’s that oldest daughter of yours?”
“Almost thirty-two.”
Aunt Emma gave her a smile. She knew. She understood. Neither J.J. nor Libby had pressed her too much. They knew Archie was cheating. They knew her life had just blown up in the last few days.
They didn’t know how her life really blew up right after she left Lake Manitou forever.
* * *
Hope, 1990
Eleven weeks ago, she’d snuck out to hang out with Archie to spite her mother.
The worst thing she could think of was being forced to go to University of Cincinnati and get a degree in accounting or hospital administration or whatever else her parents insisted was a safe choice with good job opportunities.
What she wouldn’t give for that to be her problem now.
Her problem now was not throwing up as she walked down the aisle.
Archie, the cool guy with a cool car, was now reluctantly at the other end of the aisle. He did look handsome, Hope thought, in his rented tuxedo.
Archie’s stupid friends, though, they had snuck beer into the church. They were good and buzzed already and laughing as Hope made her way to the end of the aisle.
She glanced at her mother. Stiff, erect posture, her lips grimacing. There was no sentimental moment before Hope’s walk. Her mother was not a sentimental woman, and she was as mad about this as she was about everything else in life.
Archie took her arm; he was being sweet. He’d actually handled all this well. From the moment she found out she was pregnant; he’d been pretty decent about it all.
His reaction gave her some hope. Maybe this would all be okay.
Though, her dreams of any sort of education were now totally smashed to pieces. Her mother and father said they’d pay for a wedding. That was it. School? How was she going to do that while pregnant?
Because pregnant she was. Morning sickness pregnant. Bright pink line on the stick pregnant. Rabbit deader than hell pregnant.
It wasn’t like the movieFather of the Bride, not one bit like that.
The mother of the bride was livid, the father of the bride was writing checks, while the bride herself was shell-shocked. For his part, the groom was doing his best. Hope did see that.
Don’t get sick at the altar. Worse yet, don’t get sickonthe altar.That was her mantra on the big day. She was nauseated most of the time, and it erupted everywhere. It would be a scene more likeThe Exorcistif she was the barfing bride.
Leading up to her special day, Hope had thrown up in the waste can at the courthouse when they got their license, she’d ralphed out the window of Archie’s Camaro on the way to sign the lease on the apartment, and an hour before the actual ceremony, she’d heaved into a garment bag as she removed her hot rollers. Luckily, her wedding dress wasn’t still in the garment bag at the time.
Archie’s cousin Paul “The Situation” Manos was a DJ on the weekends, so they’d got him on a discount. Archie’s big Greek family was sweet and loving, the opposite of hers. They’d helped her smile multiple times during this weird, life-changing event she’d found herself in.
True, her mother had stepped up when it came to hastily pulling together a complete wedding and reception with the requisite bells and whistles. Her mother was efficient. She had booked the church, the hall, the food, all in a few short weeks.
Her instructions were concise, and her decisions rapid and definitive. It would be amazing to watch if it wasn’t for the fact that her mother had decided her entire future without asking Hope what she thought of anything. Hope wasn’t even allowed to hate pink for the bridesmaids. It was pink, like it or not.
“Make sure there’s a bucket behind the altar,” her mother told the church lady, who also doubled as the organist.
