A Bridezilla snippet
A/N: A snippet from the fiasco that’s Anne’s wedding
“You guys are out to ruin my wedding!!”
It was all that Marce and Layla could do to keep straight faces at this latest tirade. “Honestly, is it really that important for you to have all that fanfare while walking down the aisle?” Layla asked calmly. “We’re going to be in a church, and you can’t just release balloons and other things during the wedding march.”
“I don’t see why it can’t happen!” Anne said petulantly, throwing up her hands as she stomped across the room, which was littered with various magazine clippings and unfinished favors for the reception. Her tone was vicious when she looked at her sisters again. “I want this wedding march to be perfect, got that?”
Marce sighed as she moved a stray basket out of the way. “I really think you should clear that first with the rector of the church---“
“You’re just jealous that your wedding march wasn’t perfect since Dad didn’t walk you down the aisle!” Anne snapped at Marce.
“Anne, that’s not true!” Layla said, enraged at this affront on her favourite sister. “Don’t listen to her, Marce.”
“I know,” Marce said with a slight nod. The fact that her father had unexpectedly bailed on the wedding had been the one bad memory she had of that otherwise happy day. “Dad may be walking you down the aisle, but at the rate you’re going with ripping into everyone, not even your groom is going to be happy to see you on that morning,” she said bluntly to her younger sister.
Anne’s jaw dropped. “Why you---“
Marce held up a hand. “Enough of this. I have things to do---and if you want your balloon and ribbon shower, you talk to the rector. Not me.” With that, she walked out of the living room and headed upstairs to what had been her bedroom while she was still living in San Mariano. Even in this room, all kinds of wedding paraphernalia and early wedding presents were piled high on nearly every piece of furniture. Marce had to ignore the sight of a sickly green halter-style dress hanging in front of the closet. “I can’t believe I have to wear that monstrosity,” she thought as she sat down on an old beanbag, the one seat in the room she could still use.
At times like these, the one thing that could sustain her was remembering the better aspects of her own wedding. “Not perfect, definitely---some younger children running about and of course I just had to catch Anne making out with one of Emil’s brothers in a bathroom. But it was still a beautiful wedding” she thought. Even after all these years, just remembering the song Emil had surprised her with during the reception was enough to make her toes curl in her shoes.
After a few minutes she heard footsteps in the hall. Marce listened for a few moments to figure out who was approaching the room. “Layla?”
“Oh thank goodness you’re there. I was getting worried,” Layla said with relief as she entered the room. She shut the door behind her as Marce made some room on the beanbag. “Had to get some fresh air too?”
Marce nodded. “Is there still a pool going on about how long it will be till Anne and Alain split up after the wedding?”
Layla smiled grimly. “Are you in it?”
“No. Wouldn’t wish that sort of misfortune on anyone,” Marce replied. “But my bet is on before they actually say the vows.”
“That’s mean, Marce.”
“It’s feasible.”
Layla laughed wryly as she shook her hair out of her face. “Anne can’t get the point huh? She’s had to change some of her bridesmaids at least thrice---another walked out today.”
“Yes, and the only reason we’re not walking out is because we’re her sisters,” Marce said. Admittedly she had entertained the idea already. “Has she found out yet about what we’re doing for her wedding gift?”
Layla shook her head. “I give it a few days---but I think learning that her sisters had to chip in to purchase one set of china might make her wise up.”
“I can only hope.”
“It can happen.”
“This is Anne we’re talking about, Layla. Pigs might fly first.”