12
CIARA
The wedding will be tomorrow and today everyone is rushing around because we all have so much to take care of. The pub will be closed for three days, which is quite a rarity, I’d say, because they usually never close, not even at holiday time. But this is a family wedding and we’re all involved in it and it will do both the boys and the girls good to unplug for a few days to concentrate on this event and for the pleasure of being together.
Last night after the pub closed, we girls went home and passed out after a hard day of work. Aaron didn’t come home to sleep, Jay is the one on duty and I barely saw him. He spent the whole night locked away with Alex and how could I blame him for that?
Rain, Erin and I divided up the bride’s room, dreaming with her about her big day and living in the reflection of her happiness.
Lily, Erin’s daughter, stayed at home with Erin’s mother, who is taking care of her for these next few days and will continue to do so during their short honeymoon. They have allowed themselves just five days in Spain. They aren’t able to pull themselves away from her for any longer than that. Then, they say, they might have another trip in the summer time with the baby.
This morning we’ve got the last fitting. I go to the little room that’s been set aside for me to try on my bridesmaid dress. It’s a pink floor-length, sleeveless satin dress without much pomp, but it’s elegant in its simplicity. I have to hand it to Erin, she’s got good taste.
Andwow, what can I say about her dress? When she comes out of the changing room and looks at herself in the mirror, Rain and Alex break out crying, watching her with dreamy eyes. I am too, not that I’m considering marriage, I’m too young for that. But some day… Who knows?
Erin is stunning, but then again, she always has been. She’s got some sophisticated and at the same time natural, traits. She’s both proud and confident as she turns her shoulders to look from behind, which totally exposes her back.
She’s able to pull off elegant, simple and sexy all together and she has that light in her eyes, that happiness that radiates from every look and movement she makes.
Good grief, I hope my brother realizes how lucky he is.
“Darling, you’re beautiful. Breathtaking!” Erin tells me, observing me carefully.
“You’re beautiful, Erin. Patrick’s gonna go nuts when he sees you.” And knowing him, I doubt he’ll be able to make it to the reception without putting his hands on her first.
“And someone will go crazy when he sees you,” Rain says, winking at me.
I turn to the mirror to take another look. It’s true, I look pretty good. The dress drapes well over my body, caressing my shape and highlighting it in all the right places. And with my hair pulled back, as planned, I’ll have a sort of regal and more mature appearance, despite being striped. I know Erin doesn’t approve of my hot pink highlights, but I wouldn’t give them up even for my own wedding.
“You’ll be beautiful, you always are,” Alex says, smiling from behind me. “It won’t be possible for him to avoid noticing you,” she whispers discreetly in my ear and I sure hope she’s right.
You know, a little bit.
Aaron and I haven’t spoken since our encounter at the pub. After what happened with Mark there I don’t think he’ll get close to me ever again, with the obvious exception of the wedding tomorrow. He’ll be the one walking me down the aisle.
I don’t know if I should fake a contagious disease or sob like a baby and beg Erin to switch me with someone else.
Aaron has always been a presence in our house, like one of the family. He and Patrick have always been friends. It was easy to make friends in the neighborhood where we lived as we all lived in similar conditions, which were precarious and difficult and he and his sister ended up having to fend for themselves at an early age. Aaron helped Rain grow up, study and build a future while he was busy working three jobs to keep them going.
Patrick went to go to live with them when he was still a kid and he has also always worked to support himself and help us out.
My real father took off when I was still a child and I remember very little of my life with him. I prefer not having anything to do with him. He’s not a man the word “father” is best used to describe. There were some hard years. My ma had to keep the family going all on her own, and then, luckily, she met Carl, a good man whom I have considered my father for many years. Alongside my mother, he has always supported me and I never went without. Neither my brothers or I lacked anything, even if we were never well off financially. The boys helped me to study and I am trying to pay them back by making them proud of me and trying to earn a little extra from my job, so as not to continue to be a burden for them. After all, there are six of us children and it’s not easy to maintain a family like that. Even if things did improve with Carl, Patrick has always continued to help us, as well as paying for my tuition.
As a child, I used to paint the walls of our house with my hands. The proof can still be found in several rooms. Then, I took to painting on paper and canvas. I’ve always had a passion for colors. I adore them. I enjoy surrounding myself with their light and different shades and tones. Carl allowed me to use the basement as my own personal studio and I was able to express myself down there, freeing my colorful soul and my world that was made up of unicorns and rainbows.
Going to class, working and colors, my days are built on these foundations.
I’ve just got a few last exams to pass before earning my degree in Art History. It took me longer than planned because of work and yes, I am aware that graduates in Art don’t have the same employment opportunities doctors do, but I’m sure sooner or later I’ll be able to find something.
It’s my dream.
And I like dreaming.
So what, I’m a dreamer. And I’m young and free to do what I want. I’m lucky, because despite the difficulty my family has gone through, they’ve always helped me to be what I am, to follow my dream and not let me get beaten down. One day, I’d like to teach Art at school, maybe to children, but without ever giving up my own desire to paint for myself.
My hands and clothes are constantly stained with color and sometimes I’m not even aware that I spend all night in the dim light of my studio, risking damaging my sight. I can’t help it.
It’s what I love doing.
