Wednesday, May 26, 2004

The Bridesmaid Died Day!

The body of work she left behind has been well documented, but none of the articles mention the promise she broke. Two little sisters of ten and eleven shook on it.

"When I get married, you'll be my maid of honor."

"And when I get married, you'll be mine."

As the years passed, you both lost the little girl daydream of a princess wedding. But when your sister finally got married, to her editor, that promise might as well have been written in blood. She wouldn't in a million years have asked anybody else. Out of respect for the silly little girls the two of you were for so many years.

The articles made mention of you. "…Leaving behind her parents and a sister of 34 years…" And there was even a short piece in today's Daily News about your wedding. "…sister of the recently deceased Booker Prize winner Kate Ashton, who died of a prescription drug overdose this past…" A slow news day when a story fleshed out from a marriage announcement gets run on page 8. No reporters spoke to you, and you're glad. If they had, you might have mentioned that Kate was supposed to be your maid of honor, and the writer would have wrapped an angle around the grieving bride who just wishes her sister could've been by her side on this beautiful day. If they found out you were going it bridesmaidless, the story might've made it to page 2.

Your mother offered to stand in your sister's stead, but you wanted to leave it empty. Your aunts will think it's out of respect for her memory. That no one can fill her place by your side. Let them think that. Let them be wrong.

That space by your side will be the void left behind by a promise broken. You'll be alone at that altar because a trust was betrayed. You held up your end of the bargain. You put on the lime green dress at her wedding. You did it happily. Because you promised.

"Where the hell are you Katie?" You fix your veil in the mirror. You're unhappy with the bosom of your gown. But you're very happy with the little tiny waist it cuts you. There's eye makeup on your eyes. Someone put it there when you weren't looking. It looks okay enough.

"And when I get married, you'll be mine," you tell your reflection. "Guess you thought I'd never find a guy, right Katie?"

You adjust your veil for the ten hundredth time, then you take a deep breath.

"Your word is for shit Katie," you say to the mirror. The you go downstairs to find your place on the dead empty side of a church altar.

Happy The Bridesmaid Died Day!