Chapter 12

Nikki’s turn:

Somebody’s got to describe this wedding. Since I’m nine months pregnant, basically immobilized, (not really, but you know... ) I shall bravely attempt...

First, we outgrew the pavilion. I might modify that. We didn’t necessarily outgrow it in terms of numbers, but accommodations ... you see we’ve never actually tried to have a Jewish wedding. Our Jewish family, started with the Weismanns, added Kara, then the Heltons, and now, Major Aaron Kettler, USAF, has never pushed us hard on that whole ‘kosher’ thing.

I think we could bring our pavilion’s kitchen to ‘kosher’ with a small thermonuclear device, so we deferred the wedding venue to the local temple. They know how to set the place up.

Okay, explanation, huh?!? Girls from Louisiana bayou country don’t, as a general rule, get a lot of exposure to Jewish culture. Happily for me, all my previous exposure was at worst, neutral. Sadly, there were still some anti-Semitic elements in our culture. Knowing the Weismanns and the Heltons and Kara, I cannot fathom the rationale behind such feelings, so when I’m heading into a WEDDING, after being party to both a bat mitzvah (Rachel’s) and a bar mitzvah (Derek’s), I’m expecting different, but GOOD.

We’re greeted when we’re walking in. Same as our Baptist church. Good.

People inside are dressed exactly as I’d expect for a wedding here in the deep South. I mean, we’ve done our own versions for several, including Jewish Kara and Christian Bert, and it’s just like that.

The hall’s nicely decorated. I can see ‘wedding’ in the theme. Nice. They do have a sort of stage in a corner. That’s a plus. Tara and Aaron said we’d take care of the music from our own resources. I know that because I have my triangle in a purple velvet bag.

Naturally there are a lot of people I know because much of the wedding party is the people that Tara and Aaron KNOW in Auburn, Alabama. That would be US. And there is the synagogue family, as well. I recognized a few from campus. The rest? Smile, Nikki. Stand by your husband, shake hands, smile. That’ll get you through a lot of things.

We pull off to the side, under advisement from one of my professors and his wife. “It’s getting started.”

Okay, Nikki, you’re NINE months pregnant. All that hormones CAN do to you, they’ve done by now, so cry when you see veiled Tara being escorted to this canopy thing by Sim and Beck who’re standing in for Tara’s parents.

Tears.

“Now they’re going to bring her husband,” Mizz Goldfarb whispered.

Aaron in his Air Force dress uniform. Good looking guy. Lucky.

Tara walked three circuits around him.

“The three virtues of marriage: righteousness, justice and loving kindness,” Mizz Goldfarb explained. “We don’t always go this deep into tradition, but this is what THEY asked.”

I know Tara. She’s making sure THIS one is the ONLY one.

The ring exchange took place, along with phrases of Hebrew by the rabbi. I looked to Mizz Galdfarb.

“Two blessings, one over wine, Hashem’s gift to us, one in obedience to the Talmud, then they drink the wine. Next...”

Beck and Sim stood before the couple, reciting in Hebrew.

“Seven blessings,” Doctor Goldfarb said. “You wish translation?”

Dan nodded. “If you don’t mind, sir.”

Softly, Doctor Goldfarb intoned, translating each of the phrases, ending with “Blessed are You, LORD, our God, sovereign of the universe, who created joy and gladness, groom and bride, mirth, song, delight and rejoicing, love and harmony and peace and companionship. Quickly, LORD our God, there should be heard in the cities of Judah and in the courtyards of Jerusalem the voice of joy and the voice of gladness, the voice of groom and the voice of bride, the jubilant voices of grooms from the bridal canopy, and of young people from the feast of their singing. Blessed are You, LORD, Gladdener of the groom with his bride.”

Okay, Nikki. Go ahead and cry your eyes out. Tears of joy, babe. I cried as they crushed a glass underfoot amid cries of “Mazel tov!” I can do that.

“Next,” Doctor Goldfarb said, “they go into seclusion for a short time ... Tradition. Then they come out, we sing and dance.”

I’m thinking that the couple’s already BEEN in seclusion a few times, but hey! Wedding, okay.

And they went off to an office. Heaven only knows what conversation might have taken place, but when they came out, we were on stage, waiting.

Jewish. Cajun. Wedding. Music and dancing are a given. Sometimes I get so much into thinking ‘people are people’ all over the world.

We opened with Hava Nagila. The only difference is that us Cajuns don’t generally dance in circles. Otherwise ... Johanna on her flute, Kara and Bert on violin, Dan 1.0 on guitar, Stoney on banjo, and a sweet lady from the temple on piano, and the – do you ROCK to ‘Hava Nagila? – the place rocked.

Me? I’ve never SEEN a nine-month pregnant lady plying a triangle, so I assume that doing it while sitting is acceptable. We only played a couple of Cajun tunes anyway, mainly because Tara and Aaron demanded it. Got a lot of dancers, though.

Unlike previous weddings, there was a terminal point to the music, followed by the wedding meal.

I’ve been to many community meals where Sim Weismann presided over the blessings, both before and after the meal, which I thought was neat, because it’s a civilized way of saying ‘Hey, stop eating! We’re NOT gluttons!’ but in this one, the blessings were a bit different, then there was a perfect ceremony where Tara and Aaron took their wine glasses, poured them into a single glass – two lives to ONE life.

Meal over, wedding over. They took off amid smiles and laughter and tears.

And we kept Derek for the night. He’s got an itinerary, a few nights here, a few nights with Cindy and her Dan, a few with Susan and Jason.

And NO overnights with Beck and Sim and Rachel.

We talked a bit about the wedding.

“I suppose they need a little private time,” he told me and Dan.

“Yes,” Dan said. “New life for them.”

“Me too,” Derek opined. “Used to be me ‘n’ Tara against the world. Now it’s Tara and Aaron...”

“You’re not abandoned,” Dan said. “Aaron knew what he was getting when he started paying attention to Tara.”

“Hmmpph!” Derek huffed. “I really think Tara was paying attention to HIM first.”

“Son,” Dan said in front of me, “sometimes that’s just the way life is. Nikki and I, I think I had thoughts, but she had PLANS.”

“Dunno if it’s like that with Rachel,” he said, deftly shifting the subject.

“I see what you just did,” Dan chuckled.

“Everybody knows,” he said.

“Yes, and everybody’s watching, as well.”

“I know. I know they watch. I know how Rachel feels and how I feel and we both know what we can do and what we can’t do. Like Terri and Jerry.” He sighed. “Maybe not quite that bad. At least Jerry’s an adult. That’s HALF of that couple. Me? Rachel? Just kids. Puppy love. So cute. All that.”

He looked so serious.

“I won’t tag you like that, Derek. This ain’t exactly the place to say who’s too young to know what love is.”

“Thank you. You make a pretty good aunt.” He looked at my huge baby bump. “I look forward to meeting my new cousin.”

Donna’s turn:

I missed the wedding. New baby and all that. I’m still feeling a bit less than – Cindy’s word – ‘optimum’ and when you add that little Will’s only a couple of weeks old and I didn’t want to expose him to too many new microbes, I stayed home.

My new daughter went.

Dammit, Bill gave Mandy a credit card and sent her off to shop with Cindy.

I can’t say ‘it’s a prescription for disaster’, but I should’ve expected to be lightly shocked.

First, my Cindy’s redheaded. I gave ‘er part of that – I’m auburn myself, nicely red in the sunlight, but Cindy’s RED. So’s Bill’s daughter Mandy, my new step-daughter, and that’s the last time I’ll put ‘step’ in her status.

I love my Bill. He’s been perfect toward me since he rescued me from myself that one time, and when we found out he had a daughter, both our stomachs did flops, but we also started praying.

Worked.

So when the two of them returned from the mall, I asked what Mandy bought.

“We’ll be right back. Better to show you,” Mandy said. The pair disappeared into her new room, I heard giggling and talk that I couldn’t quite understand, then, “Are y’all ready for this?” from Cindy.

The two of them appeared in identical pine-green dresses, looking like sisters.

I suppose that settled it right then. They are. Might be some differences in DNA, but definitely sisters.

They went to the wedding together, then she came home to me. Bill’s on the road doing what he does – has always done – for a living, providing management on construction projects.

He’d asked her if she needed him to stay home with her for a while, having just walked into her life yesterday for the first time.

“Dad,” she said. It still sounds a little awkward, but she’s seriously working on it, “I’ll be okay. I have a new mom. A new sister. A new baby brother. And we’ll have PLENTY of time.”

“You sure? I’m trying to be a dad here,” Bill said.

“I’m sure, Dad,” Mandy said.

We had breakfast together. Bill’s driving to this job, and he’ll be home late this evening, but surprisingly Mandy got up with Bill and me for breakfast. And Elise. And Will, who doesn’t require cooking for HIS meal.

We looked like a scene out of one of those old 1950s family TV shows when Bill left, all lined up at the door to see our provider off to his job.

Mandy heaved a sigh, gathered Elise up onto her hip.

“Daddy gone work,” Elise said.

“So I see,” Mandy answered her. “That’s what daddies do.”

She turned to me. “Uh, Mom...” her eyes flashed. “I hope that me calling you ‘Mom’ doesn’t bother you...”