I dread going out into the hallway to talk to Brie, but I also don’t want to stay behind with Aiden and his parents. I’ve had enough of Arlene in the days leading up to today and I’m relieved that Aiden is finally awake so that I can have some backup in dealing with her. To say that she’s overwhelming would be an understatement. Now, Brie’s another story.

“Brie, please don’t try to dissuade me from doing this. I love him. I’m having his baby—“

“What about his family?” Brie interrupts me. I wasn’t expecting this approach and she catches me off guard.

“What?”

“His family. Do you really want his family to be your family?”

I think about that for a moment. No, definitely not. I’m not sure anyone wants Arlene and Dean to be part of their family, let alone if they come as a set (which they do).

“I don’t have a choice of who his family is. But we’re going to make our own family.”

“I know that. But…they’re crazy. And what if they’re around all the time?” Brie asks breathlessly. “Do you know what Arlene told me last night when we left? She said that she broke up his first marriage and that’s what she’ll do to you if you become his wife.”

“No.” I shake my head.

“Yes. Ask him.”

“Listen, I don’t know what happened with his first wife, but I know how Aiden and I are. We love each other. Nothing is going to happen. No one is going to break us up.”

Brie crosses her hands across her chest.

“We’re going to have a baby, Brie. I’m sure she’s happy about becoming a grandmother.”

Brie shrugs and looks at the floor. “I really have no idea. I don’t think so. She’s got this possessive, obsession thing with him. And Dean. But that’s a whole other thing.”

“Listen, I don’t know what’s going on with Arlene or Dean or both of them. I don’t know what she did or didn’t do to Aiden and his first wife. All I know is that we love each other. And we are going to get married. Now, will you help me?”

Reluctantly, Brie nods her head yes.

“And will you be happy for us?” I ask.

“Of course, I’m happy for you. I love you. And Aiden seems like a great guy.”

“Okay, then please find us a justice of the peace.”

* * *

Later that afternoon, we are getting ready to get married. The justice of the peace has been found. She will perform the service at three. I wait with Aiden in his room, thinking about what I should wear. More and more snow is falling outside and the winter storm is now in full swing. Going out to get a dress or something nice to wear is completely out of the question. Aiden doesn’t seem to mind. I didn’t either but now I’m not so sure. Even though the elopement sounds romantic, the reality of it is starting to rear its ugly head.

I go and look at myself in the mirror. My hair is oily and stringy. I run a brush through it, but it’s still crumpled and lifeless. My face is pale and splotchy. My lips are dry and lifeless. I put on some eyeliner, shadow, and foundation, but it hardly masks the problem. Suddenly, I get sick again and bury my face in the toilet. When I come back up for air, my skin is crawling with goose bumps.

Oh, how I’d give anything to feel a little bit like a bride right now. I walk back to Aiden, tying my hair up in a bun.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

I shrug. “Just got sick again.”

“Are you okay to do this?”

I look into his hopeful eyes. I want to marry him. I do. But I also want to take a shower before I marry him. I want to look beautiful. I don’t have to look drop dead gorgeous, but I’d like to wear at least a dress. Still, I don’t really want to put this off. Aiden and I should be together.

“Do you think maybe we can have another wedding afterward?” I ask.

“What do you mean?”

“Like more of a proper one? Nothing fancy. Just…I’d like to wear something I didn’t just throw up in.”

He stares at me. His expression is blank.

“I’d like to have my hair done. My nails painted. Just you know…feel a bit like a woman.”

I sit down on the edge of his bed, hugging my knee. I run my hand over my leg and suddenly realize that I haven’t shaved my legs in days. The hard blunt hairs are coming through my pants. Perfect. Nothing makes you feel more like a woman than being a total mess on your wedding day.

“Ellie, if you don’t want to do this,” Aiden starts to say.

“Ellie, you don’t?” Arlene bursts in. Was she just standing outside the door listening this whole time? “Of course not. I mean, you’ve been sleeping in this hospital room. You haven’t showered. Who would want to marry feeling like this?”

Now, I hate her even more. I hate her because she’s right.

“No, I didn’t say that.”

“Oh, c’mon, Ellie. You’ve probably dreamed of this day since you were a little girl. Was this how you imagined it?”

She’s trying to talk me out of it. This is just a tactic. Don’t fall for it. But she’s not wrong.

“I did not dream of it as a little girl,” I mumble. “And I want to marry you more than anything, Aiden.”

I look into his eyes. This part is true. I’m not lying. I just also want this day to be special. I want to feel special.

“I want to marry you, too,” he says.

“I just need some time to get ready. I’m going to take a shower and do my hair and wear something pretty.”

“Do you want me to tell the justice of the peace to wait?”

“Yes, if you don’t mind. I just need an hour.”

* * *

Yes, this is a compromise. A perfect compromise. Since Aiden is still not fully back on his feet, I grab Brie and head to the shower a few doors down from his suite. I walk inside, close the curtain, and let the warm water run down my body. Now, this is heaven. I lather my hair and wash my face. Then I shave every bit of me. By the time it’s time for conditioner, I feel clean and refreshed.

“Brie, I need you to do something for me,” I say.

“Can you go down to the gift shop and find me a dress?”

“They’re not going to have a dress there.”

“They might. And if not a dress, then something…dressy.”

“I don’t even know what that means.”

“Just take your phone and send me photos of whatever they have there. And I’ll let you know what I think, okay? Please do this for me. I don’t have much time and I need to get ready.”

“Fine,” she says.

After getting out of the shower, I dry off and look at myself in the mirror. My face is wet, but clean and I feel like a completely different person.

“Much better,” I say, wrapping my hair in a towel. “See, there’s no need to postpone the wedding. All I needed was a nice warm shower.”

I put on my old clothes and turn my attention to my face. Luckily, I brought my makeup bag with me and this time I’m going to go about this properly. I start with a layer of foundation and follow it up with some powder, adding highlights around my t-zone. Then I add some primer to my eyelids prior to putting on the eyeshadow. I line just the top of my lids with a thick line of eyeliner, winging it at the ends. Looking through my bag, I find both regular and water-proof mascara. I opt for the latter since it’s my wedding and tears are not entirely out of the question. By the time I get to the blush and my lips, tears are already starting to well up somewhere in the back of my throat. Don’t cry. Don’t cry, I repeat to myself silently. You’re going to ruin your whole look. I inhale deeply and try to think of something else to take my mind off this.

When my makeup is finally done, I look at myself in the mirror. Wow, perfect. Every bit of it, down to the eyebrow liner, actually come out flawlessly. No mistakes. No smudges. It is like this day is meant to be.

Now, it’s time for my hair. Perhaps I should’ve done it first, but oh well. I spray my face with a generous amount of setting spray to make sure that it all stays in place when I blow dry my hair. Luckily, I didn’t forget my wide brush, which makes blow-drying it straight a breeze. Ten minutes later, I’m almost ready. I run my fingers through my lustrous hair, wondering how it is that the shine from squeaky clean hair is so remarkably different from the oily bed hair. For one final touch, I flip my hair over and toss it around, in order to add some more body to it.

Perfect. I smile at my reflection in the mirror.