******
"Excuse me...we certainly hear the alarm. But I'm calling to see if this is real," Caryn, one of my bridesmaids, asks. I can barely hear her over the repetitive shriek of electronic beeps.
"Because we have a bride here," she continues, "and if this is just a drill, we'd like to stay in place."
After a short pause she simply states "oh," and quickly glances my way before looking to the other bridesmaids, dressed alike in silver and black silk gowns. She raises her eyebrows and nods and they are a flurry of motion.
I, in contrast, sit still for a moment more, rooted at the dressing table in the hotel suite and look at my reflection. My hair is freshly styled, the veil securely pinned in place. I am wearing my crinoline and other underpinnings because I was about to step into my wedding gown.
Instead, I reach for the same black cardigan I had on just moments ago. I hastily button it, misaligning the buttonband, and reach down to fasten the straps on my pristine shoes. I hear someone yell, "get the dress" and see Kristin, my maid of honor, and another bridesmaid, Jenn, hauling it, still encased in its protective wrap, over their arms. We step into the hallway together but our group is quickly disbanded by the crowd, a hotel's worth of guests descending the staircase at the same time.
We find one another outside, along with my parents and a handful of wedding guests, and gather into a jagged circle. Nervous jokes and comments fill the chilly morning air as fire trucks race into the parking lot, sirens blaring, as if to punctuate that this is indeed real. Firemen rush the building. But it's not long until they give the all clear. Before they leave, they pause to take a picture with us--the impressively dressed huddle protecting a garment bag.
Two hours later, after the dress is on and I've heard stories from guests whose hotel rooms were flooded by the sprinkler system, I am on my father's arm and walking down the aisle. I look at the room filled with loved ones and at my best girlfriends lining the front of the church. And then, of course, I see Charlie.
******
Looking back, it makes sense that our wedding day should have such a start. Surprises and unlikely events, both good and bad, seem to gravitate towards us. And now--ten years, three boys, and many, many adventures later--I feel as if we're just getting started. Happy anniversary sweetie. And thank you. I'm glad we have forever to fit it all in.
Sandra