Mom is flabbergasted when I tell her we’re getting married this Valentine’s Day. Frantically trying to stall she blurts, “You’re too fat to get married now! You don’t want to get married fat! Lose weight and marry him, next year or two, dear. What’s the rush? You are too young!”
“We’re getting married this year. If you don’t want to arrange it, then we’ll just fly to Paris, but we thought you’d want to be a part of it.” That comment wins our battle. Mom flies down to stay with Deborah while they plan our wedding, leaving me and Scott to continue like normal attending school and keeping our practice times on the ice. We stay in separate beds of course; I am desperately trying to re- virginize myself before our wedding night.
There is only one place Scott and I can get married, and that is where it all began, on the ice. Against their better judgment, mom and Deborah arrange everything the way we want it, because they know if they don’t we’ll elope. I think they’re secretly hoping something will go wrong in those sixty days so we don’t get married. As it so happens, nothing happens until two days before. What is it with terrible life-altering events and us?
We are watching television in our living room after practice when we get the call. I sat quietly listening and then passed the phone to him. Mom tells Scott what she just told me, that his mom collapsed in the kitchen at her house about an hour ago. They just arrived at the hospital and she’s waiting for the cardiologist to come to see Deborah. Scott passes me back the phone so I can speak to my mother again, “You and Scott need to come, don’t speed, the roads are slick.”
“Sure, we’re on our way,” I say.
We go to our separate bedrooms and throw clothes into our carry-on bags assuming we aren’t going to be back tonight. We hurry to his car and I offer to drive under the circumstances. He keeps urging me to go faster, but once I remind him that the roads are slick, he stops encouraging me.
I glance over at him and reassure him, “It’s going to be okay,” when I don’t really know and I’m as scared as he is.
“Sure, because you know, right?” He snaps sarcastically. “She’s all I have,” he explains to me breaking down.
“She’s not all you have,” I say firmly. “You have me too.”
A tear escapes from the corner of his eye, making its way slowly down his cheek. I swipe it away taking his hand in mine and I don’t let go. It’s not knowing what’s wrong with her, which makes the car ride feel like an eternity. I pull up to the Emergency doors telling him to go in, I’ll find him. He opens his car door and stands, taking a deep breath of the cold February air. He looks back at me, our eyes lock, “Thanks for bringing me here. I don’t think I could have driven here safely by myself.”
“You’re welcome. Text me when you find her.”
“Okay,” he says before closing his door and turning to face the hospital. I find an information booth before he has a chance to text me. The volunteer who looks to be in her late sixties with grey hair and small silver-framed glasses with a pearl chain linking both arms waited for me to ask for help, “Hi, I’m looking for Deborah Brandon’s room.”
I stare at the monitor’s reflection on her glasses as she searches, it takes a minute or so but she finds it, “She’s been admitted to our cardiac wing, room 263.” She points to the elevators and says, “Take the C elevator to the second floor.”
Room 263 is at the end of a long corridor directly across from the elevators. Her door is closed so I tap lightly on it and mom calls out, “Come in.”
I pushed the door open to see her sitting on a chair by Deborah’s bedside. Deborah isn’t there, “Where’s your mom?” I ask Scott as I walk over to mom to hug her.
“She’s in the bathroom,” he says.
“Hi Deborah,” I call out to the bathroom door.
“Hi, Isabella!” She says reentering her hospital room. She hugs us. Some computer game or something rubs against us as we hug. She looks down, “Oh, that’s my heart monitor.”
“Are you okay? What happened?” Scott asks.
Deborah looks confused, “I don’t remember, I was in the kitchen and then the next thing I know, I’m on the floor in her kitchen.”
I turn to mom, “What have the doctors said?”
Mom’s expression appears troubled, “The heart doctor wants to monitor her for forty-eight hours.”
“Does he know that her son is getting married? Can she go to the wedding and then come back?” I ask.
Deborah answers me while looking at Scott, “We told him, he said I’m not stable enough to leave the hospital. If I go, it will be considered against medical advice. I will lose the bed.”
“So you’re missing our wedding?” he’s floored. She shrugs her shoulders, “I have no choice.”
My social media goddess brain clicks in, “You don’t have to miss the wedding,” I suggest to Deborah.
“What do you mean?” she asks hesitantly.
“Ya, what do you mean,” Scott repeats suspiciously. I gave him a look, “We’ll Skype!”
“We’ll Skype?” he asks cynically.
“We’ll Skype,” I repeat. “If you can’t come to our wedding we’ll bring our wedding to you.”
“I’ll watch it with you!” mom offers. “It’ll feel like we’re there together!” “Are you sure, you don’t have to do that,” she says to mom.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” mom reassures.
“Scott, we better go, we have a lot of planning to do,” I inform him.
When we get back to the car Scott gets into the driver’s seat, “Where to?” “Your mother’s house,” I direct. We have to get their clothes ready for our big day. I pull my phone out and call Coach Tammy asking him to arrange to have a large projector screen and a computer on the rink side for our wedding day. When we arrived at Deborah’s I gather the clothes and makeup for both ladies and Scott works on creating a Skype account s from his old laptop.
Working diligently until Scott’s computer is ready to bring to the hospital, we drive back that night delivering it with their wedding attire. We teach the ladies how to sign in to Skype so they could watch us. The following morning we meet up with Coach Tammy at the arena and make sure everything on his end is organized and working well. The club isn’t too impressed by our numerous demands but they kindly accommodate us due to our unforeseen circumstances.
We have the last half of the day to run out and get beautified. I hook up with Anna who manages to get us a last-minute hair appointment at our favorite salon on the morning of my wedding and Jeremy takes Scott for a badly needed tidying up.
Oh, how I’m going to miss those wisps that grow so nice and long. Both our moms said they are glad he isn’t going to look like a ‘hoodlum’ on our wedding day. When we leave the hospital room I googled the word.
As if! That night I stay at Anna’s and Scott stays at Jeremy’s.