The Honeymoon Period

My forte into the world of real, probably-going-to-happen-but-not-counting-on-it bridesmaidery began with a quaint lunch at a local seafood restaurant, where all of the women in the bridal party were introduced to one another. There was the Maid of Honor from a far-away state, Sam; the extroverted red-headed belly dancer Elizabeth; and the blunt but seemingly loveable Jennifer. The group was solid and I had high hopes. Enthusiastic about the event, everyone agreed to pitch in and assignments were doled out. Sam would take on the brunt of the work, essentially being the go-to woman the day of the wedding. Elizabeth agreed to arrange the bachelorette party and I happily volunteered to take on the bridal shower, a task that had me working alongside the bride’s mother. Jennifer agreed to split her efforts between the three of us, helping out when and where she was needed.

Feeling a burst of energy from our luncheon, I raced home and, for all intents and purposes, turned into Martha Stewart. With 35 people on the shower’s guest list, I envisioned a sophisticated, rustic-chic-themed party for 20 or so women, complete with elaborate invitations, eco-friendly favors, and a cake that matched the bride’s high-end taste. I coordinated with the bride’s mother, who generously offered her home and agreed to cook for the shower. I would be responsible for the games, favors, prizes, decorations, cake, invitations, envelopes and who knows what else.

The bill for this extravagance wasn’t cheap, but I didn’t mind. I knew my reward was to come: Danielle was a good friend deserving of great bridesmaids. In return for our favors, she promised to treat us to manicures and pedicures the day before the wedding. Besides, weren’t Sam, Elizabeth, Jennifer and I all in this together? I was certain they would recognize my efforts and offer their own contributions.

Finally, I sent e-mails detailing my plans to the bride and the rest of the women in the wedding. Content that I was off to a great start, I sat back and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

If the other women were as excited as I was, they certainly weren’t showing it. Like a good Midwest girl, though, I gave them the benefit of the doubt: everyone must be busy. When it became clear that no one was going to offer suggestions or advice, however, I forged ahead with my plan, even more determined to be the bridesmaid I believed Danielle deserved.