Chapter 1: Wedding Bells

“Look,” Marilyn Grant told the members of Zeta as Sunday dinner was winding down, “Andy and I would be pleased to have you at our wedding, but the date hasn’t even been set yet. It will be well after school breaks for the summer. Leave me your home address if you want an invitation. Right now, eloping is looking better and better.”

She wasn’t serious. She was only going to have one wedding, and she wanted the whole nine yards. The problem was that Mom, who had opposed the marriage, now had the bit in her teeth. And it wasn’t Mom’s wedding; it was Marilyn’s.

She and Andy took an extra weekend at his apartment before they drove up to Evanston on Monday. The bliss was sweet, and the threat of coming abstinence made it sweeter. Well, if they couldn’t find a time to enjoy each other between now and the wedding, the time afterwards would be that much sweeter. Andy drove her home, carrying her luggage into the house before a good-bye kiss. Although Mom was in the kitchen, she left them alone for the kiss.

“Well, dear, did you enjoy the drive up?” Mom asked after Andy had gone.

“It was great. Andy says that he doesn’t think he and his dad will have much to add to our plans.” What he’d really said was that he wanted the marriage; he didn’t care about the wedding. His only input on the wedding would be if she needed his support for her positions.

“If you brought home the usual amount of dirty clothes, you should probably unpack down here to save yourself the trip up and down.”

“Only a little underwear.” Andy had washed everything else on Saturday.

“Now that you’ll be a married woman, you’ve decided to do the laundry yourself?”

“Now that we’re going to be a married couple, Andy does the laundry.”

“Really, Marilyn, I’m not sure that I think...”

“I’m not sure that you do, either, but it’s one household chore that he does quite well. And we won’t have a washer in the apartment. Somehow, he thinks of himself as doing the heavy lifting and carrying jobs. Maybe you think I should do the hauling of the laundry and he should do the dusting, but that’s not how we’re going to do it.”

“Honestly, Marilyn!” So Mom thought she was being sarcastic. Well, Mom’s comments had deserved sarcasm. “Anyway, dinner will be a little more than an hour. Do you need something to tide you over?”

“No, I’m fine. We packed a snack for the trip.” There had been a little celery left -- her purchase, Andy ate it but didn’t buy any salads but lettuce and cabbage -- and she’d stuffed it with peanut butter. They’d left nothing in the ‘fridge but the ice cubes in the freezer.

Andy and she went in for premarital counseling on Thursday afternoon. Most of Rev. Lawrence’s questions were easy to answer. Their next year was set in stone. After that, they’d look at what jobs Andy had on offer. Children were possible in the future, but not in their immediate plans. Andy was accepting of her working.

“You have to see that, in nearly the first serious conversation I had with Marilyn, she said that she planned to be a teacher. I fell in love with a woman who was going to teach. That might not be what attracted me, but it was always a part of the woman who attracted me.”

Did they depend on her income in their plans? She answered.

“We have a budget, and a tight budget, for next year. We don’t have the beginnings of a budget for later years, except that we need at least one salary. But we won’t pay out more than we take in, nor promise to pay more from my salary than we know we’ll get from it.”

On household chores.

“Marilyn has higher standards than I do.” Which was an understatement. Attila’s ravaging hordes had had higher standards for housekeeping than Andy did. “She’ll assign my duties. Part of her chores are supervising mine.”

“And this imbalance of authority doesn’t bother you?”

“Nah! Every night, she’ll sleep in my arms. What we do before bedtime doesn’t matter.”

“There’s more to marriage than sex, you know.”

“I’m not using euphemisms. Oh, I don’t deny that I enjoy sex, but I insist on her sleeping in my arms.” Reverend Lawrence looked a little nonplused. Andy had been so permissive up to then and was so insistent on this. But he’d casually assumed that Andy had meant sex every night. This was a widower and a marriage counselor with long experience. He’d assumed that Andy was insisting on sex every night, and his objection hadn’t involved her periods. Maybe Andy’s willingness to have sex during her periods wasn’t one of his oddnesses.

“After all,” she pointed out, “marriage is a compromise between two people with different priorities. If that is one of Andy’s priorities, then it isn’t one I’m going to argue about. It isn’t as if he insisted on his way in everything.”

After a lot more discussion, the pastor said that he was more interested in seeing that they’d considered all those issues than what their agreements were. After the appointment, they went to Andy’s house. She was scheduled to be his -- technically his dad’s -- guest for dinner. Mrs. Bryant was there, finishing up the dinner. They kept her company in the kitchen. She left earlier than Andy’s dad got home. They spent the time making out, still in the kitchen. His dad rang the bell before he opened the door, and Andy went out to greet him. That gave Marilyn time to get her clothes back in order.

“The girls will definitely want to be at the wedding,” Mr. Trainor said. “Margaret should be, too. I’ll suggest to Margaret that she and the girls come just before the wedding, and the girls take their two weeks afterwards.”

“Yeah,” Andy said, “I want Mom there. She’s never met Marilyn, you know.”

“Sorry, Miss Grant. Divorced parents are a complication.”

“But they are a reality, sir. I wouldn’t want Andy to deny any part of his family.” If she had to be ‘Miss Grant,’ Andy’s dad could be ‘sir.’ He continued without blinking an eye.

“Look, nothing is more personal than a honeymoon, and I don’t want to micro-manage yours for Christ’s sake. Would a week in a Chicago hotel be a gift or an imposition?”

Andy looked at her. “It’s all your choice. My imagination hadn’t stretched to the room around the bed.” She blushed. She couldn’t help it. Andy looked apologetic; Mr. Trainor didn’t bat an eye.

“It would certainly be a gift. You’ve already been quite generous.”

“The week afterwards back here with the girls in the same house would certainly be an imposition. Would it, however, be one you could accept to make them happy?” Again, Andy looked at her. It seemed like a minor imposition if any. It meant having sex with others within hearing distance, but most parents managed for decades. After all, Molly and April wouldn’t be listening at the door or mentioning what they might hear. Pete would be sure to do both if given the chance. And, where else could they go?

“That doesn’t sound like an imposition. I like your daughters.”

“I tried to read your face,” she told Andy when he walked her home. “Did I speak out of turn?”

“Hell, no. All I worried about was your reaction. I really love my sisters. I’m even beginning to like Molly, again. And they damn-well worship you. You’re high on the Trainor hit parade.”

“Well, the Trainors are high on my hit parade, too, especially the son.” And they had a long kiss on the porch steps before she went in.

“Enjoy yourself?” Mom asked when she got to the living room.

“Oh, yes.”

“Not too much, I hope.”

“Mr. Trainor was there. Andy and I were properly chaperoned, you may be sure.” The whole idea of chaperones was especially ridiculous for a couple about to be married. They would be off in a room by themselves for a week fairly soon, after all.

“Are you ready to talk bridesmaids?”

“Would six be too many?” She had her mental list, with two additions from this evening’s conversation.

“Awfully many, certainly. Could you cut that by one or two?”

“Well, I haven’t spoken to any of them. The problem is that I have so many circles. One person would be easy to cut.” Brittany was a connection between her Evanston life and her campus life, a connection between her and Andy, but she wasn’t all that great a friend. “Could we go with five? The next one would be hard to choose, and cutting two would mean cutting out Zeta.” Mom would hate for her to cut out Zeta, as would she herself, but Mom had to hear that the others took precedence.

“Let’s hear them.”

“Diane for maid of honor. We promised each other years ago. Then Beverly, my Little Sister, and Barbara, last year’s roommate. They both live within driving distance. Then Molly and April, Andy’s sisters. You see how it’s past, present, and future.”

“Well, I don’t see why you have to have Andy’s sisters.”

“Because they’ve been real friendly to me. I’m going to be in the Trainor family a long time. I want to have good relationships with all my new in-laws.”

“Well, dear, I suppose that those are possible.” So she’d won one, and she’d have to yield to Mom on another issue.

Sunday, she spoke to Diane after church.

“Remember when we promised to have the other as maid of honor way back in tenth grade?”

“Yeah. I was wondering if you’d forgotten.”

“No, but I was going to renege if we had to be married by a justice of the peace downstate. You don’t know how much is still up in the air. We don’t even have a date yet. That was one thing that I was going to ask you. I don’t want to schedule it when you’re not available.”

“I’m available! I’m available! I can’t say Andy impressed me way long ago, but I’m really happy for you.”

The weather being warm, she would walk home. Andy, who had sat with her, was waiting. He and Diane spoke a bit, then Diane’s parents got impatient. She lived far enough away from church that she never walked. Andy and Marilyn walked slowly and circuitously. They got so few chances to talk now that they were back.

“Give me the addresses of your sisters, will you?” she said. “I want them to be bridesmaids.”

“Both? The Moppet will love you for that.” He dropped her hand to reach for a pen. These days, the pen and pencil set she’d given him was always in his pocket. He wrote the address on the bulletin. With that in her purse, she took his hand again and walked more slowly.

“You know,” she said, “you need attendants, too. Who will you get for best man?”

“Well, if you have April and Molly, maybe I should choose your brother.” And maybe he shouldn’t. His sisters were always good to her. Pete wasn’t good, or even minimally polite, to either one of them.

“Andy, don’t you have any friends from high school?” After all he had two high schools in his background. “Or college?”

“Not really. Some classmates are friends in the sense of friendly contenders in class. I don’t think I have any addresses, even so. I don’t think I told any of them that I was engaged. Most of my social life on campus was with you. I think I’m closer to half your sisters than I am to my classmates.” And, considering how casual his relations were to even her line, that was sad to hear.

“Well, think about it.” And her kiss on the porch stairs was hotter than usual out there because of the pity she felt for him. Andy was a great guy and so kind. He was, though, so lonely. When she was at the table and Pete was discussing his Saturday, she had longer to think about that. No, Andy wasn’t lonely; he was alone when he wasn’t with her, but he didn’t miss the company.

Barbara called in answer to her letter. She said she’d be honored. She was available through mid-July. Marilyn had hoped to be married before mid-June, but that was fast approaching with nothing settled.

Her grades came. She’d raised French Lit in Translation to an A. All the other courses were Bs. She called Andy to tell him. He congratulated her, but his hadn’t come yet. When they did, he called. It was his second quarter with every grade an A.

There’d be toasts at the wedding. The two of them should have their own. She wrote a draft of a series of toasts to their families and attendants. She gave the draft to Andy for emendations, but he approved it the way she’d written it.

“Do you think I should have included your stepfather?” She didn’t want to, after what Molly and April had told her, but she did want good relations with his mom.

“The Turd? God no.” And she’d accept that judgment.

Beverly didn’t answer her letter. She finally called and got an answering machine. She and Mom picked out a wedding dress. She really liked it. She shivered a little when she compared the price with the budget she and Andy had set for their year together, but -- unlike the ring -- it wasn’t coming out of the same pot. They took Diane with them to select the bridesmaids’ dress. Marilyn was determined that it would be something the girls could wear as party dresses afterwards. She was starting to think of budgets, even other people’s budgets.

Andy reported problems with his mother. She was obliged to send Molly and April to their father for two weeks in July. She felt authorized to choose which weeks. She didn’t feel inclined to grant any leeway.

“Not for your wedding?”

“Well, since I stopped visiting, she puts me and Dad in the same file. This is something we’re doing. And, since the girls met you when they visited him, you’re something he’s springing on her. I’ll try to reason with her.”

Finally, that was settled. The girls, with their mother and stepfather, would arrive in Chicago Tuesday, July 5th. They would miss the bridal shower, but all the wedding prep which involved them could be crammed into the next three days. The wedding would be Saturday the 9th of July. If they couldn’t have a June wedding, they could be close. She sent off the mail invitations over the next three days, allowing enough time for delivery for anyone who would come. Two of her sisters would be in Europe, but they would have the invitations waiting at home for their scrap books.

Beverly returned her phone call Sunday, the 3rd. She’d been on vacation. She was thrilled to be an attendant at her Big Sister’s wedding. She’d get into Evanston Tuesday to visit the shop with the bridesmaids’ dress. Maybe there was a source closer to her, but she wanted to see Marilyn, anyway. She got her dress fitted on Tuesday, and Marilyn picked it up Wednesday when Molly and April were fitted. April looked like a woman in it, and Marilyn was happy for her choice. When Andy and she picked up the girls’ dresses on Thursday, he paid with a credit card.

“Since when do you have a credit card?” She’d never seen it before, and it hadn’t been mentioned in the budget discussion.

“Remember when Dad said he’d spring for the honeymoon? Well he figured we’d want to do lots of things besides just staying in the hotel. He was thinking of you, rather than me.” Andy leered at her. He could leer away. He might like to imagine spending a week in bed with her. When he actually had several days with her, he got out of bed. “This card is in my name, but the bill will come to the house. He’ll pay it. It was only for the honeymoon, but he figured I should use it for the dresses, ‘cause he’ll pay for them anyway.”

Friday, she had the bridesmaids together for lunch before the rehearsal. They didn’t need the time, but they needed the talk.

“Who is the man with you two?” Beverly asked Molly. “I know that Andy must be an Andrew, but I’ve never heard him called that before.” Beverly had picked the girls up from the downtown hotel where they were staying -- on Jim Trainor’s dime -- with their mother and stepfather until the two weeks of visitation officially began after the wedding.

“That’s Mom’s husband,” Molly answered. “Mom calls him Andrew, and nobody else does, not even Dad. Elliot took it up. Andy says that he can’t control what Elliot says, but he can control what he answers. Usually he doesn’t answer Elliot.”

“You call your stepfather ‘Elliot?’”

“In polite company,” April said. “You should hear the way we talk about him among ourselves.” Marilyn chose not to disclose that the participation of ‘The Turd’ in the wedding party was the price that Andy’s mom had extracted for the girls’ participation. The conversation went on to other things.

The rehearsal went smoothly, despite her butterflies. Margaret Trainor Brewster sat between her husband and her ex on the groom’s side of the front pew. As Andy’s dad had pointed out, there wasn’t much for the groom’s family to do. Dad, on the other hand, marched her down the aisle magnificently. She wore her old heels. The pair that matched the wedding dress were something that Andy shouldn’t see yet.