Was this a wedding, a popularity contest or perhaps a moment of dawning realisation?
BY PATSY COLLINS
Don’t worry, I’ll go on my own!” Maria said, not that anyone was listening. Perhaps they’d hear her slam the door.
She was acting like a stroppy teenager, but why not? It released some of the tension caused by her two daughters and Andy, her ex-husband, who was the biggest kid of the lot.
She’d divorced him when she’d discovered his little-boy charm was directed towards a string of other women. Then, like a toddler throwing a tantrum, he’d walked out of all their lives. He’d reappeared occasionally, but never for long. Now he was back in the girls’ lives, for good so he said, and it looked like he was set to break Maria’s heart in a different way.
Trish, her oldest daughter, wasn’t really a teenager, but wedding nerves made her just as emotional. She’d be accompanying her husband on his overseas postings.
Maria would miss her so much. She was trying to be upbeat about it, but her younger daughter, Sasha, wasn’t helping.
When Maria hopefully mentioned the newlyweds visiting when on leave, Sasha reminded them about the groom’s family living four hundred miles north of them and her dad living three hundred miles south. Then, just that morning, she’d said something which resulted in the new guest list being ripped up and the bride tearfully starting again.
When Maria tackled Sasha, she said she hadn’t realised she’d upset anyone.
“Do you think you’ll manage to say something nice about the clothes I try on for the wedding?” Maria had asked.
“Not if they’re candy floss pink.” Sasha named the colour chosen for the bouquets, bridesmaid dresses and just about everything else.
It wasn’t Sasha’s favourite shade, but surely she could put aside her own preferences, just this once? She’d been negative about all the pretty pink finishing touches Trish wanted.
That’s why Maria was now wandering around town on her own in the March drizzle, half-heartedly looking at mother-of-the bride outfits.
She’d counted on Sasha’s help. She was studying design at college and had great dress sense.
Maria sighed – Sasha was right that the pale pink her sister wanted wasn’t a good choice for an early spring wedding, especially the flimsy dresses, tropical flowers and open horse-drawn carriage, but her father had shown her photos of a celebrity wedding and she’d
