July 2002, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

By Violet Reed

Aunt Rita stood up at her oldest niece’s wedding and held her glass high. A silence descended on the diners as they all turned expectantly to hear what she would say. All except for the bride.

When her husband reached down and took her hand, a besotted smile on his face, he noticed her staring down at her plate. Her cheeks were flushed. Believing her to be embarrassed, he leaned over and placed a kiss on her cheek.

“This is the wedding of my dearest, most favorite niece, Juliet. Actually, I would go so far as to say, she is by far my favorite family member,” Aunt Rita declared. The guests chuckled; her family tried but could not.

She looked over at Juliet and her husband, Mitch, and her gaze was steady. Her words were not slurred, her stance was sure. She hadn’t been drinking, not much, not enough to be drunk, and everyone prepared for a sweet and memorable speech with maybe a few more bad but well-meant jokes.

Mitch thought he heard his wife say something, but when he turned to ask, he didn’t get a single word out before Aunt Rita continued.

“This, my dear niece, Juliet, is your wedding day, and I wanted to stand up and say just how very disappointed I am.”

Some of the guests smiled because they had been so sure they were going to just moments before. Not hearing the words at first, they smiled to themselves, and then those words sunk in.

The bride’s head dipped a little lower. She wished she were anywhere but in that reception room. She would have given anything to be out of that dress and away from what was happening to her. A part of her even regretted getting married because a part of her feared that it was stained forever with this memory.

Whispers began to sift through the crowd, people asking if they had heard correctly - had she really said “disappointed”? - but Aunt Rita wasn’t finished.

“You were always such a smart girl, first in your class in high school and top of your class in college,” Aunt Rita said. “You did so well for yourself. Got a good job as a teacher, and though it didn’t pay well, you touched so many lives. I was so proud of you.”

Aunt Rita sighed and shook her head. Her glass was lower now, no longer held so high, and her face, as she looked at the bowed head of her niece, was so very disappointed. “And then you went and started dating Mitch. He was all right, for a boyfriend. I was not thrilled, but I accepted that you were just having a moment. Then you quit your job and married Mitch.”

Everyone was silent, some with open mouths. No one said anything. No one tried to stop her. A few faces were angry, but not even they stood up. The family knew Aunt Rita wasn’t exactly nice or all there, and they’d known she disapproved, but not even they had seen this one coming.

“This white man has taken you from me, taken you from your job and your family, and intends to just keep on taking. I thought you were stronger, more devoted to your family and your culture, but obviously, I was wrong,” she said. “You aren’t strong, devoted, or a part of our culture. You have disappointed me, and I wish you a long and happy life, because you are my niece. But I have little hope that my wish will come true.”

Aunt Rita sat back down and replaced her glass, the champagne untouched, back on the table. The movement was sharp, but she didn’t slam it.

A small darkness began to grow on the tablecloth as the bride cried her first wedding tears. They fell, silent and still, as she stared down at that spreading bit on her once pristinely white tablecloth. She wondered if she could cry enough that the blotch would deepen and swell until everyone drowned with her. She wondered if she’d throw up on the table.

Beside her, Mitch glared mutinously at Aunt Rita, hating her for hurting Juliet like this but unable to do anything. He didn’t want to make things worse for Juliet and worried that yelling at her aunt in front of everyone would do just that.

“How dare you.”

The words were on the tips of so many tongues, even the bride’s and the groom’s, that some were unsure if it had been their voice that had spoken up. But there was only one person who had spoken. Heads swiveled to the one person willing to say something, but it was Juliet’s stunned gaze that found her first.

Juliet stared at her sister, who stood in her dark-red bridesmaid dress, her black hair twisted up behind her head, her eyes narrowed.

Corey clenched her hands into fists at her sides and glared at her aunt. “How dare you say something like that to my sister?” she snapped.

Aunt Rita picked at her food and ignored her other niece. She didn’t do it like she was embarrassed but rather like she felt that what Corey had said just didn’t matter.

“Look at me!” Corey shouted, her frustration at having always been ignored like this making her voice rise and her love for her sister making her say anything at all. With a put-upon sigh, Aunt Rita looked up at Corey with mild distaste.

“What is it, dear?” she asked. The light endearment was said like it was forced out of her.

“You have always been awful to both of us. Blatantly to me, subtly to my sister. You were always forcing Juliet to try harder, to impress you, to be better. But nothing’s ever good enough for you, is it? Juliet is happy with Mitch. Why can’t you just be happy for her? And if that really is just too hard for you, then leave. You never should have come, anyway. You have ruined a lot of the things that make Juliet happy, but don’t you dare ruin her wedding.”

Aunt Rita’s eyes were narrowed, but whatever harsh comment she would have said, because she was not so easily stopped, was drowned out by the clapping of the other wedding guests. Nobody wanted to hear what she had to say.

Corey shook her head, and some of the sound died down. “I can see nothing I’ve said has touched you, so I won’t bother saying more.”

Corey turned to her sister, and some of the happiness she had felt before grew and overtook some of the jealousy that had also been there earlier. “Jules, I just want you to know how very proud I am of you. Mitch is a wonderful guy, and every time I look at him, I know how much he loves you. Never regret your choice or this wedding. You deserve to be happy.”

Juliet stood up and hurried around to where her sister stood. There was a collective sound of sympathy and compassion as Juliet hugged Corey. When Juliet pulled back, she smiled at her sister, silently thanking her.

She went back to her husband and was able to ignore the grumping and cruel words that came from her aunt, words that tried to push through what was now a forced cheer in the room.

She didn’t care anymore, or at least not as much as she once had. She sat next to Mitch, who kissed her cheek, took her hand, and whispered into her ear until she was laughing.

Violet Reed is an undergraduate English major. This is her first online published story. She is using a pseudonym.

Posted by Elizabeth Armstrong Moore on Wednesday, July 4th, 2007 | Email This Post

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