Over the next couple of months Jack and I began to see each other more and more often. Maybe it was just my imagination, but I thought Tina and Annie started thinking that maybe we were more than just friends. Still, they didn’t say anything about it.
I had other things to think about too. My mom’s wedding with John Alcott was coming up, and I was pretty excited about it. I didn’t get to see him very often, but every time I did John was just the nicest person to me, and I was glad that my mom was finally marrying someone that was going to be good to her. I just knew he would be.
As for her diabetes, my mom was managing it just fine. She was a little bit pale sometimes (which I had originally chalked up to the winter here in London), and had taken to wearing long sleeves a lot of the time, which she said was from the new sun sensitivity she was feeling since her diagnosis.
It was pretty handy, living in the same house as the person I was falling in love with. And that was really the truth of it. I tried to resist it for as long as I could, but I was falling in love with Jack.
I’d never tell him, of course. While I was so happy that the stream of girls coming into his room at night had stopped and was now replaced with only me, a part of me thought that if I told him I’d push him away for good.
After all, our relationship was still pretty taboo.
Still, when the day of the wedding arrived, that was the last thing on my mind. Well, one of the last things on my mind. I woke up early, and joined my mom and the other bridesmaids – Karen, her best friend from New York who was flown over for the wedding, Amy (ugh) and Sally. Amy had changed her hair, she had a real Posh Spice look going on now, still obviously dyed blonde.
I tried to ignore her snide remarks and just focus on the shampoo being massaged into my scalp as we got our hair done, then went back to the estate to get ready.
The ceremony was going to take place at Christ Church Cathedral, in Oxford. It was huge, definitely big enough to accommodate the over three hundred guests that had been invited. Afterwards, the reception was going to be at the estate. Luckily it was a gorgeous sunny day, and all the work that had been done in the backyard to accommodate everyone was going to pay off.
I went to my room and slipped into my gorgeous purple dress. I had to hand it to my mom, she knew how to pick a dress that flattered my curves. I admired myself in the mirror, giggling before making my way to my mom’s room, where the makeup lady was ready and waiting to get started in the enormous bathroom suite.
For three hours we all got ready. I could tell my mom was nervous. Of course, she’d never show it. But I knew. I went and got my mom a glass of champagne, and she looked at me thankfully.
“You’re the best daughter I could have ever asked for, you know?” she told me.
“Thanks, mom,” I replied. “You’re going to be fine.”
“I know. I’m just nervous. I haven’t done this in a while.”
“Mom, your last wedding was three years ago.”
“I know. But this is the first time I’ve gotten married where I’ve really felt that I could be with this man ‘till death do us part.”
“That’s sweet, mom.”
We were interrupted by the wedding planner who walked into the room suddenly, clapping her hands.
“Alright ladies, we have to be in the car to go to the Church in five minutes. Mary, I have your bouquet right here. For the rest of you, your flowers are in the main hall.”
She herded us like sheep and we made our way down, the photographer who had been hanging around us and snapping pictures following as well.
The limo waiting for us outside was extravagant. We all fit so easily inside of it, I was surprised it was small enough to legally be allowed on the road.
As we got closer to the church, the other bridesmaids began congratulating my mom. We got out of the limo and were ushered into the Church’s waiting area. Sneaking over to one of the windows, I had a look at the crowd waiting in the church, waiting for my mom to walk down the aisle.
Suddenly, my heart stopped. Sitting in the back row, in a suit and tie, something I’d never seen him wear, was Jack. I’d thought he wasn’t coming to the wedding.
Before I had a chance to think about it any more, the wedding planner came in and told us they were ready.
Since we were in England, the Bridesmaids were to enter after the bride. Lining us up, the wedding planner waited until the organ began playing Pachabel’s Cannon, then the large doors leading to the main church opened, and my mother walked forward.
The ceremony was beautiful. As we walked down the aisle every eye was on my mother, and she was radiant, as usual. When I got to the altar, standing to the left of my mother, I scanned the crowd. Most of the faces I didn’t recognize, but when my eyes found Jack at the back, his eyes found mine and he smiled at me. I was glad he was here.
Twenty minutes later, John Alcott kissed Mary Reeves, and she became Mary Alcott, in front of hundreds of witnesses.
The happy couple left the church, leaving with the photographer to take private photos for the two hours before the reception officially began. Of course, anyone who wanted to could come to the Alcott estate immediately and begin being served from the open bar or the thousands of dollars worth of little snacks available to hungry diners who didn’t want to wait for the late lunch/early dinner meal being served later.
The other bridesmaids and I, along with the groomsmen, followed in another limo not far behind the newly married couple to go get the official wedding photos taken.
After two hours my jaw was beginning to hurt from smiling so much. We’d gone to a gorgeous traditional English garden not far away, and there the photographer posed us, took photos, posed us again, and then some.
I kept myself sane by thinking about the amazing gourmet dinner my mom had decided on, I had sneaked a peek at the menu and knew that it was going to be nothing short of amazing.
Finally the photos ended and we were driven back to the Alcott estate. Amy made a single snide comment about how fat I would look in the photos, but I just ignored her, and Sally gave my hand a supportive squeeze. I couldn’t care less about John Alcott’s dumb sister; her words couldn’t bother me in the least.
As soon as I got to the reception area, I sought out Jack, and found him hanging out by one of the fountains, eating a mini quiche while watching the guests mingle.
“Hey, I didn’t think you were coming,” I told him as I sat down next to him, a glass of champagne in hand.
“Hey,” he answered, brightening up visibly as he saw me. “I wasn’t going to go. Then I figured that since the reception is going to be in my backyard anyway, I might as well go to the wedding too.”
“What did you think?”
“That your mom made a huge mistake.”
“What? Why?”
Jack just shook his head. “Nothing. It’s not my place. I might be wrong, anyway.”
“No, seriously, why do you think my mom messed up?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Seriously? We’re this close, and you can’t tell me?”
“Just forget I said anything, ok?” Jack snapped, getting up off the fountain and walking off.
“Hey, hold up,” I ordered, and he stopped.
“I know you have issues. But don’t take them out on me.”
“Fine. But I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
“Then tell me how good I look in this dress.”
Jack grinned.
“Not nearly as good as you’d look without it. But you do look stunning, Jules. I mean that.
“Thanks,” I muttered, and as good as the compliment sounded, there was suddenly a bit of a hole in my heart. I knew Jack had secrets, but this one could affect my mom. I wanted to know what the problem was.
“Listen. I know you don’t want to talk about this, but if it’s going to affect my mom, please, you have to let me know.”
Jack stared at me for a little while.
“I knew this was a mistake,” he muttered. “I shouldn’t have come here.”
With that he turned, and this time when he walked off I didn’t follow. Once again I felt that rage build up inside of me that only he could generate, that only he could make me feel.
What on earth was that man hiding?