Chapter Thirty-Six
Karen took me to one of the private homes in between the supermarket and the library. The quaint little cabin home smelled richly of petunias and coffee creamer. A hint of cinnanmon wafted off a wax burner that was not too far from the door. There was a small fire roaring in a fire place, and big comfy chairs surrounding it. Sitting in one was a small old woman. She was wearing a blue cotton dress with a white apron and a fuzzy blue house robe. Piles of fabric surrounded her, plus a handwoven basket full of shiny spools of thread.
Elli was in the kitchen, mixing a bowl of chicken salad up. She wiped her hands on her apron and greeted us as Karen entered and ushered me in without knocking, "Mama, Karen and Claire are here!" Elli shouted. Her mother must have been hard of hearing. Ellen lifted her head from the ivory fabric she was busy embroidering with her surprisingly stable hands.
"Hi, Ellen, how's the dress going?" Karen asked, shrugging out of her peacoat and hanging it on the coat catcher by the door.
"Very nicely, dear," Ellen replied pleasantly. She set her work down and flexed her fingers. Elli brought her mother a cup of piping hot tea, "Thank you, sweetheart," She took a sip and licked her lips before saying, "I've almost finished all the torso embroidering." She held the fabric up. It was a strapless top with a sweetheart neckline. The bodice was made to look like a corset. Beautiful silver glittery thread wound through the torso in graceful swoops to make it elegant and dainty.
"Oh, it's beautiful!" Karen squealed again.
"Mama, that looks so good," Elli clapped her hands together, "Karen's going to look like a queen!"
"Ellen, this is my second bridesmaid, Claire," Karen gestured to me now, "I have Popuri and Rick's measurements. I brought Claire to have her's done, too."
"Oh, fantastic. Did you decide on a color for the vest and dresses?" Ellen asked. She stood up very slowly and grabbed her cane.
"Yes, I would like this pink," Karen crossed to her coat and fished the light pink fabric swatch out of the inside pocket. She handed it to Ellen, who nodded and beamed.
"Oh, yes, this is the one I was expecting you to pick. I already have a bolt of this," Ellen adjusted her glasses and put the swatch on her massive pile of fabric, "Well come here, Claire, dear, let me measure you." Karen slid my outer jacket off. Ellen approached me and began wrapping the tape measure around my waist, bust, shoulders, and length of my body, collarbone to knee, "My, you're only a bit taller and wider than Popuri. That will be simple," She snapped the tape measure back to her and set it with the rest of her scattered notions on the table with her tea.
"So, when is the wedding?" I asked as Ellen settled back into her seat and relished in her warm tea. She tied the sash to her house robe even tighter. Elli took that as her cue to toss a few more logs into the fireplace and poke them.
"Christmas Eve," Karen told me, running her hands over the folded fabric that would become her wedding dress.
"Wow, that's only three weeks away. Will you finish in time, Ellen?"
"Oh, yes," The elderly woman cooed, "I don't have any other obligations to tend to through the days. My granddaughter takes care of all my errands. The sewing is all I have to worry about. I like when people ask me to sew them things. It helps the day pass by."
"My grandmother is always sewing," Elli explained, setting a tray with a chicken salad sandwich and a pickle spear on the table beside Ellen, "When we lived in another town, she did all the cheerleader's uniforms and the church choir's costumes. She has talented hands."
"It was all thanks to the time I grew up in," Ellen replied as she fiddled with needle and thread again, "We had to work with our hands to make our living. Nowadays, there are so many other options besides crafting. My granddaughter is a nurse. When I was a little girl, women still weren't involved in hospital settings. We've come a long way."
Karen seated herself in another chair and looked very content as she basked in the warmth of the fireplace. She glanced towards the light pink fabric and bolt of tulle that was resting against the fireplace. As soon as Ellen finished the wedding dress, she could work on the rest of the wedding party's clothes, "This still feels like a dream," Karen said, watching as Ellen continued her embroidering.
"What? Getting married?" Elli asked from the kitchen where dishes were clattering.
"Yes. It's still unreal Rick even asked me!" Karen pressed her hands to her collarbone and looked over the room of women, "He asked me!"
"That's one thing that has not changed," Ellen said, drawing the needle upwards. The glittery thread glinted in the fire, "Marriage... it is still one of the happiest things a person can do in their lives. The dresses may be different, but the significance is not."
"How many wedding dresses have you made?" I asked, settling into a chair myself. I sunk into the goosedown cushions instantly.
"Karen's wedding dress marks one hundred and... forty-two... Yes," Ellen nodded, "The one before was for Celia, a young farmhand down in Forget Me-Not Valley. Her's was very traditional. I hadn't made a dress with that long of sleeves for nearly twenty-five years. I thought it had simply gone out of style."
"Well, Celia is very traditional," Karen said, crossing one leg over the other, "I'm going for... mmm, classy. I bought a white fur shawl to wear over with the dress. It's going to look great with all the snow. I'm obsessed with getting my wedding photos right. I've hired someone to come to Mineral Town to do them."
"Don't forget the rest of your wedding, Karen," Elli warned, coming to stand behind Ellen's seat.
"My mom's got that pretty much taken care of," Karen waved her hand dismissively, "I'm mostly worried about what the wedding party is going to look like. Oh, that reminds me, Claire. You, me, and Popuri will need to have a hair session to try out some hairstyles. I want you and Popuri to match in all aspects."
"Who's doing our hair?" Karen sighed at this question and sagged her shoulders dramatically.
"My mom asked Ann. I guess she forgot we didn't get along," Karen rested her jaw in her hand, "So, tomorrow, we should go to the Inn and have Ann try some things out on us. I know you two are friends, so maybe it'll work out."
"Why don't you get along with Ann?" I asked. In the corner of my eye, I saw Elli roll her eyes and head back to the kitchen to fumble with the tea kettle.
"We've grown up our whole lives here together. When we were intially old enough, it was me, Ann, and a girl named Aja who used to live here. We would usually just hang out and find sea shells and get berries off bushes on Mother Hill. It was all innocent," Karen explained, "But as we grew older, our differences only exaggerated. I wanted to always look and smell good. I wanted to look cute. Ann was still rolling up her overall pants and jumping into the creek to fish by hand. And Aja was just weird, I don't know," Karen shrugged, "We've always just ignored each other."
"Well, surely you two can be in the same room together," I said.
"There's no time for fighting during wedding planning," Ellen said. I forgot she was probably listening to the conversation, "Weddings are supposed to be a time of fun and jubilation. I've always been unhappy sewing a wedding dress amongst a family of aggressive fighting."
"Oh, I'm going to be happy on my wedding day," Karen pressed her hand to her chest, "And everyone else can be happy or they can stay home."
...
When I got back to my farm, Rick was dawdling in the fields. He was walking around with his hands folded behind his back, watching the last of the leaves dwindle from my trees. He seemed to be glancing all around, but when he spotted me, he waved and crossed.
"Hey, everything okay?" I asked, my hands jammed far into my warm pockets.
"Oh, yeah. That's actually what I was going to ask you," Rick said, rubbing his red hands together, "Everything fine with the wedding planning? Any problems with Ellen?"
"No, none at all. Everything is on track."
"How's the wedding dress?"
"Oh, I'd say Ellen is nearly half-way done with it," I said, shrugging.
"What does it look like?" Rick asked, sheepishly adjusting his glasses.
"Well, it's got-" I paused for a moment, knitting my eyebrows together, "Hey, I'm not supposed to tell you anything, am I?" Rick's fake friendly smile wavered for a moment, "I'm not telling you squat," I shook my head, "Karen is supposed to be surprising you."
"Dammit, she is always so airtight," Rick released a breath.
"Hey, it'll be worth the wait," I told him, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Would you like to go get some warm apple cider from the Inn and chat for a bit?" Rick asked, flicking a tuft of blond hair from his bold brows.
"Mmm, that sounds delicious; lead the way," I gestured to the open path.
...
We sat at the end of the bar with big steaming steins of rich warm apple cider. It was made in the Goddess Isles by Doug and the Inn owner on Waffle Island. It was heavenly when I first sipped it. The cinnanmon and sweet apple wedges married together in pure wonderfulness. Rick draped his jacket over the stool beside us and drank some of his apple cider.
"So, pick any groomsmen?" I asked, setting my hands in my lap. I was tempted to chug the apple cider and demand more, but I held myself back.
"Well, Cliff said he'd be happy to be one, but I can't think of anybody else," Rick shrugged, "What, am I going to have to ask Jeff? That's why I thought we could talk. Maybe... I know this sounds crazy, but maybe Kai can be my other groomsmen... if he's home in time."
"Kai?" I was nearly exasperated, "What about Popuri?"
"Well, what happened at the beach?!" Rick asked, "I'm still out of the loop!"
"She told Kai she messed up and that she did love him," I replied, drinking some cider.
"What?" Rick cried out, "She still loves him? Him? I'm sorry, I know he's your boyfriend, but what does she see in him? He's a nomad and much older than her."
"Who else is here for her, Rick?" I asked. He was silent for awhile.
"He's your boyfriend, how does that make you feel knowing my little sister likes him?"
"I feel bad for her," I shrugged.
"He must be different from what I remember," Rick ran his hands through his hair, "I remember him as a bum. He'd walk around with a beer everywhere and wear flip flops for everything. He was always so... I dunno, aggravatingly casual. I guess I was always jealous he could so easily brush everything off. He seemed so unaffected."
"Well, the beer and flip flops thing has not changed," I laughed and drank more apple cider, "But you know, Kai has never been ashamed of who he is. He's pretty good at winging things... he always tries to fix his mistakes, too. But things do affect him. He was affected by Popuri."
"At least I know to never play poker with him. He's got a face of rock," Rick sighed and leaned against the bar, "Forget groomsmen, what do I do, Claire? How can I ensure my little sister's happiness? She's sinking and fast."
"Ask her what she wants," I said, "Maybe it's time she leaves the island in pursuit of the unknown."
"Never!" Rick was quick to reply, bucking up straight as an arrow, "I could never sleep at night knowing she was just out there somewhere, anywhere!"
"Rick, she's grown up. Popuri can take care of herself," I sighed, "That's the problem. This all just sounds familiar. She told you off on the beach about needing space and for you to quit meddling in all her business. You can't keep the same child locks on her."
"So, what, I should just let her go? I should let her walk right off that dock? Just like I let my father?!" Rick's hand curled tightly around the handle of his stein, "I should have stopped him all those years ago, but I didn't. I refuse to just let her go, Claire."
"I'm just saying, it's an option to consider when you ask her what she wants."
"When I ask what she wants, her answer should be the presence of our chickens and roosters!"
"Oh, Rick," I sighed, placing my elbows on the bar, "She's her own person."
"I know," Rick had his hands pressed over his eyes as he used the bar for support. He let out a long breath, his eyes red with fatigue, "It's just... hard to let go, Claire. She's always been my baby sister. She always used to need me. Whether it was to open the pickle jar or fish a ball down from the roof of the coop, she always just needed me... and now she doesn't and I still feel that obligation to step in and help. I want what's best for her."
"I know you do. She's ready to spread her wings. Let her."
Rick looked down to his hands and sighed all over again.
...
"A hair trial? Right now?" Ann asked the next morning from the sink behind the bar. She was elbow deep cleaning some boiling pots. There was a fish fry planned for this weekend. I was sitting at the bar. Karen was standing beside me with Popuri, who was actually looking at the menu and considering something.
"Yeah, I just wanna know what our options are," Karen said, inspecting one of her french tips, "The wedding is coming up fast and I want to know how long it will take to get Claire and Popuri's hair identical and mine braided with flowers."
"Well, uh, I need to finish this pot right here," Ann said, "But you girls can go get cozy in my room. I'll be upstairs in a few minutes."
When we got to Ann's room, Karen sat down at the community table and grabbed a magazine that was tossed lazily there. She let out a long sigh and crossed her leg over the other, bobbing her heeled boot impatiently. Popuri sat down at the vanity mirror and began feeling her hand through her poofy curls.
"So, Karen, what did you have in mind for Claire and I?" Popuri asked, glancing over her shoulder.
"Well, my hair is going to be a braid," Karen explained while reading a tabloid on a fashion model, "I want both you two to have tight updos. Like a french twist... if Ann can do it," She shrugged at this. Karen reached into her small black leather clutch and pulled a stick of gum out.
"Ann can probably do it!" Popuri lit up at the idea. She pressed her hair to her head, though the curls threatened to poof back out, "Ann is really great with hair."
"Well, I know she can braid. It seems to be the only thing she does with her own hair."
"Karen," Popuri turned back around now, "what's wrong?"
"Nothing," Karen looked up from her magazine, "I just want my wedding photos to be perfect."
"What about the wedding itself?" Popuri asked, "Aren't you more excited to marry my brother?"
"Well, duh," Karen was visibly irritated now, "I want it to be the happiest day of our lives and I want to be able to look back on them forever and think the same thing! I'm done playing twenty questions, Popuri."
"Hey now," I stepped up as Popuri shrank back at the words, "I know wedding planning is stressful, but you can't take it out on your future sister-in-law."
Karen let out a huff and closed the magazine. Popuri turned back to the mirror and resorted to only staring at herself. I watched the poofy haired girl closely. I wondered what was going through her mind, but I knew it was clouded with so many things. She already had so much on her plate. Slowly, I could see her withdrawing inside of herself.
Ann came through the door in the next moment. She had a tray of lemonade with lemon wedges stuck to the lip of the cups. She set the drinks on the table and then went to Popuri at the vanity mirror. Ann pulled some different types of hair brushes out, a straightener, and a package of hair ties. She grinned at Popuri in the mirror, fluffing her fingers through her curls. Popuri couldn't even muster a grin back. That's when Ann must have felt the tension.
"Why is everyone so quiet?" She asked, glancing around at us, "We are planning a wedding, right? Not a funeral?"
"Yeah, it's a wedding," Karen stated, her arms crossed over her chest.
"Well, why is everyone so tense?" Ann looked to me, but I had no words.
"No one is tense!" Karen declared, standing up. She came to stand on the other side of Popuri, "I want Claire and Popuri to have french twists."
"French twists? Hm, okay," Ann nodded, looking at Popuri's thick hair, "Let me get the straightener warmed up."
"How is that going to take?" Karen asked, tapping her foot impatiently.
"Mm, about five minutes or so," Ann said, choosing to ignore Karen's mounting attitude. She plugged the straightener in and unwound the cord, "Popuri will have to have her hair straightened first so we can minimize the volume to get it packed in that tight," She ran her hands through Popuri's hair again, "You have such wonderful thick hair, Popuri!"
"Thanks," Popuri said with absolutely no enthusiasm.
"Okay, really, what is going on?" Ann put her hands on her hips, "I can tell everyone is upset."
"No one is upset!"
"Karen!" Ann shouted, "You're the only one saying nothing that! Something obviously is."
"Stop being nosy and just do my bridesmaids hair."
"No, I'm not doing hair when it's this miserable," Ann shook her head, "Hair styling is a happy past time."
"So, you won't be my hair stylist?" Karen asked.
"Not if things are going to be like this," Ann was exasperated now, "Popuri looks like she's about to cry. And Claire looks pissed off."
"You know what happens when you assume," Karen's voice was rising.
"The only person making an ass of themselves is you," Ann shouted back.
"Just mind your own business! You couldn't imagine how stressful planning a wedding is," Karen was so angry, she was visibly shaking, "I want french twists on them and a braid on me, with lots of flowers. I want-"
"She's just so uptight about the photos!" Popuri came to her feet quickly, knocking the vanity stool over, "She's more worried about what we all look like rather than focusing on what the wedding is about! A tribute to love!" She went to the window and gripped the sil, "My brother doesn't give a damn about the wedding photos, Karen! He just wants to dance with you in your pretty dress!"
"I don't care if Rick doesn't care about the pictures, I do, and I'm the bride!"
"This is about family and love, though!" Popuri looked so heartbroken.
"Popuri, you'll understand when you're getting married," Karen told her.
"I already understand! I'm not a child. God, I wish people would stop treating me like I'm ten."
"Well, you're acting like a ten year old right now."
"You know what? I quit! I'm not going to be your bridesmaid," Popuri threw her hands up, "I can't do this, Karen. It's too tense and uptight. It's like walking on eggshells being your bridesmaid. I know what a wedding is actually supposed to be and I know you're going about this all the wrong way," Popuri began walking towards the door, but paused with her hand on the doorknob, "Pictures can be lost, misplaced, or forgotten. But we will always remember that day fondly in our heads."
She left without another word, leaving Karen astounded, "She can't just quit! She's Rick's little sister."
"Well, she just did," Ann crossed her arms over her chest, "And I think you need to apologize."
"Mind your own damn business, will you?" Karen sneered, "Claire, let's do your hair."
"I..." I fell at a loss of words and looked to Ann.
"I'm not doing anyone's hair," Ann said.
"Whatever, then. No credit for you," Karen stormed out the room, slamming the door extra hard. The whole building tremored from Karen's anger. We even heard her slam the front door, shaking the building again.
"What a mess," Ann set her stool upright and sat down in it, "Poor Popuri."
"That was just a total... bridezilla meltdown," I was still reeling.
"Yeah, well, that's Karen."
"What do you think Rick will do?"
"If he's smart, he will run the other way."