“It’s a lot to live up to.”
“This moment. This dress. All these flowers. The cost. Why couldn’t we elope?”
“I thought you wanted this.”
“No, not especially. I’m not even sure about how I feel about marriage, let alone a big wedding.”
“NOW you tell me?”
“I’ve BEEN telling you, but you haven’t heard me and my mother? I feel like you two are in a conspiracy. This says ‘my mom’ all over it.” Tabitha looked at the white covered table laden with wedding gifts. The guest book. The other various wedding related objects that would have no use once the “big day” had passed.
“Do you want to call it off, Tabby?’
“How many times do I have to tell you I’m not Tabby? Tabby is a cat.”
Kent shrugged, but he had a sinking feeling — had had for some time.
“Kent, honey, in fact, I think we need…”
“…to talk, right?”
“Have at it.”
“Honestly, I don’t want to do this. I want to send back all these stupid presents, cancel the wedding, and go to Bhutan or some place. This is stupid.”
“Yeah, this retro-glamor-commercial bullshit. I don’t want it. I don’t want it at all.”
“Why didn’t you say sooner?”
“I’m saying now.”
“Yeah, but the invitations have been sent out.”
“Really? And how does that matter? It’s my life. And those three hundred people? They have better things to do than sit through some ceremony and then a reception where we do some dorky dance that someone puts on Youtube hoping it’ll go viral. It won’t. We’re not that good. It’ll just be embarrassing.”
“So you don’t want to marry me?”
“That’s a separate issue. I don’t want this stupid wedding. Thousands of dollars for what? Half of all marriages end in divorce. I think if people decide to marry with odds like that they ought to crawl away and do it secretly in case it doesn’t work out and maybe celebrate after 20 years.”
“Wow. I never knew you felt this way.”
“You never asked me.”
“All those dress fittings…”
“Good god, spare me the memory of that. Listen, I can’t do this, I won’t do this. You can tell my mom since you two are such good buddies.”
“That’s just cold.”
“No, it isn’t. You should care about what I want, what I believe in. It should matter to you.”
“Really? You’re a woman. This is your big day, your day to shine, be a princess, all of that. I have sisters. I know.”
“Maybe I’m not your sisters? Maybe we’re not all alike? Maybe I’d like to shine some other way? Maybe? I think this was a huge mistake.”
“Ah, so now you don’t want to marry me.”
“No, I don’t think I do. Here.” Tabby put the diamond ring on the table between them and stood up. “I’m not sure what I want, but I know I don’t want this,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
15 thoughts on “Not Happening”
Some things are just meant to be. I am so glad that I had no big wedding, just me and Mr. Swiss, two witnesses, and lunch at my mother-in-laws. I was in and out the registry office in 15 minutes and even got Swiss nationality into the bargain. Oh, and no wedding dress, just something neat. Amost like the lady in your story wanted it, but I wanted to marry Mr. Swiss.
I think the girl in my story got carried away on the tide of tradition and mom’s pressure before she had a chance to think about what she really wanted. Of all my 3 marriages, my favorite was the one in the American equivalent of the “registry office.”
WOW Better late than never?
He’ll be grateful someday 😀
So easy to get caught up in the tides of traditions, shoulds, and other peoples desires. Relief that she realized before the deed was done. Liked Tabby’s cameo, too!
Tabby likes to peek in from time to time. When it appears that she’s just staring at Mrs. Angloswiss’ wall she’s often bilocating.
amazing skills these felines have. We call those Lucy’s Zen Moments
That was pretty much how I felt about weddings. The one with Garry was Okay. SMALL. In the church basement. Simple food and a deejay. We saved our money for the honeymoon and THAT was GREAT.
Great story. That was a divorce waiting to happen.
If we were all as wise as Tabby. 🙂
You have got to be able to let go sometimes
This is a great dialogue, realistic, believable and one that should take place more often, methinks, but perhaps a bit sooner.
I know that I should have had this conversation at least once. But maybe that’s the essence of fiction… Stories emerge (starring other people) out of our “shoulda’s woulda’ coulda'” moments.
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