“I couldn’t sleep last night in my excitement,” Mom says, “so I researched last-minute wedding package deals. I completed a few inquiry forms on websites. I plan to start visiting venues as soon as possible baby, and I want you to come with me.”
“Just let me know when you’re going.”
“This is going to be a very small wedding since I only have a few friends and colleagues to invite. Michael’s family is spread all over the United States, so we don’t expect them to travel to California with such short notice, but those who can are welcome to come. I don’t need a fancy dress. I was thinking about a simple, elegant dress, and of course, Cocoa I want you to be my maid of honor. My colors will be cream and royal purple.”
“I would love to, Mom.”
“The wedding packages are ideal for me because I won’t have to concern myself with figuring out the smallest details. Everything will be planned for me. I’m finally able to spend all the money I’ve been saving over the years on something I really want. Since you’re good at makeup and hair, I’ll designate that as your responsibility.”
When my mom is excited, she can’t stop talking, and I find it hilarious.
“The next few weeks will be super busy, baby. We have to prepare for the wedding, pack, hire movers, and find a realtor to put the house up for sale. We won’t be able to drive our cars to West Virginia. It’s about a thirty-five-hour ride, so we’ll need to have them shipped there. It’ll cost a pretty penny, but it’s better than putting the miles on our cars.”
“Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll help with the packing and cost of moving. It’ll be a breeze, you’ll see. I’ll be at your service, just tell me how I can be of assistance,” says Michael, giving my mom a peck on the lips.
“This is a new beginning for us. I can’t wait to start the next chapter in my life,” my mom says.
We finish up breakfast with plans to start the process for the big changes that are about to occur in our lives.
The next month flies by in a frenzy of activity, meetings with the hotel wedding planner, packing and helping my mom choose the perfect dress. My mom received an offer of employment for the history teacher position at Montgomery Preparatory. Everything is going according to plan. It’s the big day. We went to the spa yesterday for French manicures and pedicures, facials, and massages. My mom is sitting in a chair at the vanity in front of the mirror while I curl her hair. She’s wearing a cream-colored, cowl neck court train charmeuse gown, with ruffle lace beading sequins and cream-colored high heels. I already applied my mom’s makeup. I kept her makeup simple and sweet. I coated a very small amount of foundation over her face with a little pink-colored blush. I chose a matte bone eye shadow, blended with a neutral shimmery champagne color, in the corner of her eyes, and just underneath the brow bones. I finished off with black cream eyeliner, mascara, and a nude lipstick. She looks radiant.
I’m wearing a tulle royal purple sleeveless floor-length dress with a V neckline and cream-colored high heels that are a different style from my mom’s. I decide to allow my massive curls free rein. I don’t apply foundation to my face—my caramel skin doesn’t need it. I applied the same shimmery champagne shade across my eyelids up to the crease, then used a fluffy blending brush to buff a matte eggplant shadow in the outer corner on the crease. Just like my mom, I finish off with black cream eyeliner, but I’m wearing a deep red lipstick.
Instead of wearing a tiara, my mom chose to wear a floral crown made with plum and lavender colored roses, with green and purple pip berries on braided vine wire.
“Done,” I say as I pick up the floral crown lying on the vanity and place it on my mother’s head.”
My mother stands up and turns towards me, embracing me in a strong hug.
“I want to thank you Cocoa, for being so open about me marrying Michael and moving us to West Virginia. I know this can’t be easy for you. I love you,” she says as tears form in her eyes.
“Mom don’t cry, because you’ll mess up your makeup, then I’ll cry because you’re crying and mess up my makeup too.”
My mom gives a little laugh. We hear someone knock on our hotel room door. I detangle myself from my mom’s strong hold to walk over to the door to open it.
“Hi sweetheart, you look beautiful,” says Uncle Rob as he steps inside the room.
“Hi, Uncle Rob, you don’t look too bad yourself,” I say as I give him a hug.
He’s wearing a black tuxedo with a royal purple vest and tie. Uncle Rob has always been a lady’s man, with his thick jet-black hair, green eyes, and tall, muscular frame.
“Rob, thank you for agreeing to walk me down the aisle,” my mom says as she walks over and gives him a hug.
“You’re welcome. I will always be here for you.”
It’s true—my mom was in a very dark place when my dad died. Uncle Rob was there to help her pick up the pieces as best as he could. He’s like a second father to me. My mom was like a ghost for several years after.
“I’m here to escort you, two lovely ladies, downstairs.”
The wedding procession will be a small one.
Michael’s cousin, who resides in Seattle, was able to attend the wedding as his best man. A few other relatives were able to attend, as well. Michael and his cousin will already be at the wedding arch when I walk down the aisle, my mom will follow soon after. My mom’s wedding will be simple and intimate, just how she wanted it, with about thirty people in attendance.
The wedding is being held in a small but elegant ballroom. Chairs draped in a cream-colored covering, with a royal purple satin sash to form a bow at the back, are set up to form the aisle my mom will walk down. The reception will be in the outdoor patio space. Tables are covered in a royal purple table cloth, surrounded by cream-colored chairs, with a clear vase of purple flowers as the centerpiece.
“Wonderful,” my mom says.
“I’ll grab your bouquet,” I say.
