But she did. When she said, “I do,” it felt as if her heart were actually expanding inside her chest. In that moment, standing in front of her friends and family and staring into Bobby’s blue eyes, she started to cry.
Father Tim smiled down at each of them, then said, “I now pronounce you husband and—”
The doors to the church banged open.
A woman stood in the doorway, arms out-flung, a cigarette in one hand. She wore a silver lamé dress that showcased her curves. Behind her, there were at least a dozen people: bodyguards, reporters, and photographers. “I can’t believe y’all started without me.”
A gasp of recognition moved through the church. Someone whispered, “It’s her.”
Bobby frowned.
Claire sighed and wiped her eyes. She should have expected this. “Bobby, you’re about to meet Mama.”
“I am going to kill her.” Meghann wiped the unexpected tears from her eyes and shot to her feet. Mumbling Excuse me to the shell-shocked guests beside her, she sidled out of the pew and stepped into the aisle.
“There’s my other girl.” Mama threw open her arms. Again the flashbulbs erupted in spasms of blinding light.
Meghann grabbed her mother by the arm and yanked her back through the doors. The paparazzi followed, all talking at once. There was one terrifying moment when Mama wobbled on her ridiculous heels and Meghann feared a California-freeway-type pileup of bodies on the red-carpeted aisle, but she tightened her grip and staved off disaster.
Through the now-closed doors, she could hear Father Tim’s stumbling second attempt to pronounce Bobby and Claire husband and wife. A moment later, applause thundered through the church.
Meghann pulled Mama into the dressing room and shut the door behind them.
“What?” Mama whined, obviously unable to frown but wanting to. Too much Botox, no doubt.
A dog barked. Mama looked down at a small St. John beaded travel carrier in her arms. “It’s okay, honey. Meggy’s makin’ a mountain out of a molehill.”
“You brought your dog?”
Mama pressed a hand to her ample breast. “You know Elvis hates to be left alone.”
“Mama, you haven’t been alone in years. Forget whatever poor fool you’re currently sleeping with, you employ three gardeners, two housekeepers, a personal assistant, and a houseboy. Certainly one of them could dog-sit.”
“I don’t have to clear my lifestyle with you, Miss Meggy. Now why in the hell did you throw me out of my own daughter’s weddin’?”
Meghann felt a surge of impotent anger. It was like dealing with a child. There was no way to make Mama understand what she’d done wrong. “You’re late.”
Mama waved a hand. “Darlin’, I’m a celebrity. We’re always late.”
“Today was Claire’s day to be a star. Can you get that, Mama? Her day. And you walked in right at the moment of glory and stole the show. What were you doing out here, waiting for the perfect moment to make your entrance?”
Mama looked away for just a second, but it was enough to confirm Meghann’s suspicion. Her mother had timed her entrance. “Oh, Mama,” she said, shaking her head. “That’s a new low. Even for you. And who are all those people? Do you think you need bodyguards at a wedding in Hayden?”
“You always pooh-pooh my career, but my fans are everywhere. They scare me sometimes.”
Meghann laughed at that. “Save the acting for People magazine, Mama.”
“Did you see the article? I looked good, don’t you think?” Mama immediately went to the mirror and began checking her makeup.
“As soon as the church empties out, I’m going to talk to your entourage. They arrived in cars; they can sit in them until it’s time to leave. I’ll protect you from your stampeding fans.”
“Dang it, Meggy. Who’ll take my picture at the weddin’? A woman my age needs filters.” Mama reached into her crystal-encrusted evening bag and pulled out a black tube of lipstick. She leaned closer to the mirror.
“Mama,” Meghann said slowly, “Claire has waited a long time for this day.”
“That’s for sure. I was startin’ to think she and those friends of hers were gay.” Mama snapped the lipstick shut and smiled at her reflection.
“The point is, we need to focus on her today. Her needs.”
Mama spun around. “Now, that hurts. When have I ever put my needs ahead of my children’s?”
Meghann was speechless. The most amazing part of this science-fiction moment was that her mother actually believed what she just said. Meghann forced a smile. “Look, Mama, I don’t want to argue with you on this special day. You and I are going to walk over to the reception and tell Claire how happy we are for her.”
“I am happy for her. Bein’ married is the most wonderful feelin’ in the world. Why I remember when I married her daddy, I felt swept away by him.”
You get swept away more often than a muddy riverbank. Meghann kept her lips sealed and her smile tacked in place. She didn’t remind Mama that the marriage to Sam had lasted less than six months, or that Mama had run out on him in the middle of the night, after sending him to the store for tampons. For years, Meghann had had a mental picture of Sam, returning to the Chief Sealth Trailer Park in Concrete, Washington, on that rainy night, standing at the empty site, holding a box of tampons. He hadn’t known for almost ten years—until Meghann called—that his marriage had produced a daughter. “That’s the way, Mama. Pour it on. But,” she stepped closer, looked up into her mother’s surgically wrinkle-less face, “you may bring one photographer. One. No bodyguards and no dog. These rules are not negotiable.”
“You are a pain in the ass, Meghann,” Mama said. Her accent was so thick only a trained ear could understand it. “No wonder you can’t keep a man for long.”