An Excuse to Kiss the Bride

INVITATIONS WERE ALL SENT OUT, bride's gown and pale pink bridesmaids' dresses with embroidered daisies on pink grosgrain ribbon imported from France via Bergdorf Goodman, wedding rings, church, reception hall, flowers, limousines, band, champagne, hors d'oeuvres, dinner, desert,–all arranged. The reception was set for the Hotel Grammatan in Bronxville. Ironically, when we were in high school, boys would throw rocks at the hotel's marquee to break lights so that it spelled "Hot Gramma," something I hoped at the time I would never be. I figured after marriage that was inevitable and so I was probably on my way. I did have some reservations about getting married but it seemed so romantic.

As you can see from my checklist, I, the quintessential Virgo, had taken care of everything, down to the most minute detail–tiny pink sculpted roses on the sugar cubes. (Not even Bridezilla can beat a Virgo in the throes of wedding preparations, and we are even pleasant about it.) I could rest easy; my work was done.

But could I? Something was making me uneasy, nervous ... as if I had forgotten something. I had a nagging visual asterisk in my head. Maybe it wasn't an asterisk; perhaps it was a star? Yes, I think it was a star. I tried to stay calm and told myself it was just pre-wedding jitters and exiled it from my brain.

Eventually, though, the star came back and started to grow. It began to glow brightly and twinkled as if it were winking at me. Then it morphed into a laughing comet, crashing around and wreaking havoc in my otherwise orderly mind. With all that illumination, I suddenly got the message. Star! .... s... t ... a ... r... STAR! ...WILSON STAR! – a sweet, dashingly handsome guy from MIT I had been dating and of whom I was quite fond. We went out every time he came to New York, which was frequently because the city was his home. In the excitement of my engagement and wedding preparations, I had forgotten all about him. I had forgotten to tell Wilson Star I was getting married!

Well, it was probably OK. Most likely, he was simply not in my orbit anymore. Actually, I had not heard from him for quite some time. He was still in school in Boston and I was working in NYC. Maybe he had found someone else. I hoped so. Oh, fate, please spare me the icky, sticky conversation I would have to have with him if he had not. Maybe I wouldn't have to talk to him after all. It probably wouldn't be that big a deal for him. For all I knew, he was already in love with a new girl. I'll bet that's what happened–we just fell out of love. I considered calling and telling him. It would probably be the polite thing to do. I kept putting it off, though, and eventually the star in my mind faded away. Thank goodness, no more brain-star.

Starless, for the first time in a while, I went to work. Unbeknownst to me, Wilson Star had indeed heard about my engagement through my boss (who was his father's best friend). Perhaps, that's why he had not been calling me. While in my boss's office one morning, to my sheer and utter amazement, in walked Wilson Star! He sat down in the visitor's chair next to me, politely shook my hand and said, " Depingo, it's so nice to see you," as if he were surprised to find me there! I felt a little uneasy ... caught ... trapped maybe, but then decided the visit had nothing to do with me at all. Wilson, finding himself in the neighborhood, was just stopping in to see his dad's buddy. I am sure that was the reason for his visit. He didn't know anything about my upcoming marriage (whew!)–and I intended to keep it that way.

As fate would have it, just then the phone rang. My boss answered, then handed it to me, saying, "It's the New York Times Society Page, Depingo–for you!" Bad timing in the extreme. Why did those pesky editors have to do their research at the exact moment I was sitting next to Wilson? I asked if we could talk another time and the caller replied, no, they had a deadline and needed to do it right away. Embarrassed to death, and knowing that this was a pretty shabby way for Wilson to find out about my impending nuptials, I had to answer questions about myself, my groom, our honeymoon and our future life together–right there in front of Wilson Star. I was rubbing salt into a star-shaped wound.

To break the tense silence, when I got off the phone, my boss said, "Oh Wil, did you hear, Depingo's getting married?" He said, "Yes," he had, and he was very happy about it because now he had an excuse to kiss the bride.

With that, he grabbed me so swiftly that my chair fell out from under me and I landed directly on top of him. He locked me in an embrace–right there, at work, in front of my boss! He whispered that we were bound together for eternity, held me so tightly to to his chest that I could hardly breathe, and gave me the most earth-shattering, mind-blowing, spine-tingling, wedding-canceling kiss I had ever gotten. Although I did not cancel the wedding ...

I saw stars!

Paint on,
Depingo