October 25th, 2008 - Connie/Abby

(Co-post with Connie) October 25th, 2008 The nearly 10,213.5 steps that led up to the church sprawled out before Constance like a large welcome mat; only today it didn't welcome her. In her mind the steps were saying, "Enter into the cemetery! Come look over here! This is where happiness is buried. See the ghastly grave! She died a tragic death, happiness did. Murdered in her prime". Finding some courage within her, Connie bravely decided to face the tomb before her. Taking quick, determined steps, she hurried towards the doors and, with all her might, pushed them open, revealing the empty sanctuary within. All was quiet. Nothing moved. Connie almost thought she had dreamt the sorry affair up. But the sight of a lone figure near the front of the church made her heart sink. Abby heard the door open and quiet footsteps making their way towards where she sat stranded on an island amongst wedding programs, a guest book, a cake, flowers, and piles of other wedding decorations.. She knew who it was. There was only one person who would purposely put their pathway into an unsteady storm that might turn into a tornado or hurricane any moment. She wished that Connie hadn't come right then for it was precisely at the moment when she needed someone the most but didn't want to admit it. Brushing away what might have been tears from her face, she forced a cheerful smile and looked up at Connie. "Did your aunt tell you that I had a wild look in my eyes and that you had better get over here before I did something rash? Well, you can rest in peace. I haven't set fire to the church, yet." Abby shoved the wedding cake roughly and dangerously towards the edge of the seat, clearing a space next to her for Connie to sit down. "This wasn't how it was suppose to end." She looked rather dejectedly over at the cake and flowers. "Which one of us forgot to call the baker and florist?" Connie sighed deeply and perched softly on the seat beside Abby. "It was probably my fault. I'm sorry, Rose. You really didn't need a pile of stuff to sort right now". It was an unfortunate affair. Abby's wedding had been scheduled for this Autumn day, and Connie was to be the maid of honor. But a few weeks earlier, the wedding fell through and Abby was left with the responsibilities of canceling it. Connie leaned over and wrapped her arms around her friend. "I'm sorry, Rose..." It was all she could muster. A single, crystal tear ran down Connie's small face. "It's not really right, you know...". Oh great...not Connie crying. Abby squeezed Connie hard. Connie was about the only person she ever felt at ease hugging. "Connie, none of this is your fault. The baker, the florist, the pile, and especially what was suppose to take place today and didn't. It was mine and only mine. You're the best friend I have ever had, and it is so obvious now when there's no one else around. You would have been the perfect maid of honor." Abby tried to think of something to lighten her best friend's mood. "I don't know why I even got a wedding cake. Those things are so disgusting. I swear they're straight poison." Abby's optimistic attitude brought a tiny, sympathetic smile to Connie, and the fifteen year old brushed the tear from her face. "I've always preferred pie myself". A bitter Autumn breeze crept into the church causing a shiver to prance up Constance's spine. Wrapping her arms around herself to battle the cold, she turned her attention to the dreary mound of wedding necessities. "I suppose we should do something with those before Sunday". A moment of dreariness threatened to prolong its stay, but like lightning an idea struck into Abby's head. She always liked those ideas; they seemed brilliant to her. It was those ideas that brought others to believe she was rash. She looked over the piles of things with almost a mischievous look. "Are you cold, Connie?" The manner with which the question was posed caused Connie to hesitate a bit, but she shrugged her shoulders carelessly and answered. "A little, yes". "It is cold." Abby stood up from the pew and started cramming decorations into a large black bag. "Connie, we're going to have a bonfire." "We are?" "Yes, Connie, a very large bonfire." She stuffed the wedding dress into a second bag. "Would you give me a hand? We have to do something with all this stuff, and there will never be another October 25th wedding. In fact, I highly doubt there will ever be another wedding." "But... Hold on a second, Rose!". Constance rose from the bench and hurried over to where Abby was stuffing the bags. Reaching into one, Connie pulled out the snow white wedding dress and held it up in the flickering afternoon glow for Abby to see. "You will need this dress again someday, Rose; just like I will need my lovely bridesmaid dress you bought for me. Maybe this wasn't the right day, but you will have another chance. When the time comes, I will be there -- with you on your happy wedding day". Abby sighed. "Really, Connie? I don't want to keep it. This thing will only remind me of a less than pleasant moment in my life. The only only reason I'd keep it is to encourage me not to gain weight." She smiled bitterly at her lame attempt in humor and took the wedding dress out of Connie's hands. Abby's action startled Connie a little, but, after hesitating a split moment, she regained her nerves and snatched the dress away from her friend. "Alright, you don't want it now. That's fine, Rose. You don't have to keep it. But I will hold on to it for you until you have need of it again". "Constance Faye Kitlyn!" It was Abby's turn to be surprised at the unusually commanding action by Connie. The determined look in her friend's eyes was foreign. After a moment, she surrendered for once to her friend's will. Strangely, surrendering to Conny's will did not sting so much. It actually felt good. "Very well, Connie. You keep it, but we're still going to have a bonfire." She heaved two of the black sacks over her shoulders, leaving one for Connie. Abby's yielding on the issue brought a sigh of calm relief to Constance. "I'll be right behind you, Rose". Taking the wedding dress in her arms, she walked over to the far corner of the small church where she snugly draped it over a pew where it would rest until she had the chance to return and find a much safer resting place for the precious dress. When she was certain no damage would come to it, Connie scooped up the remaining bag left for her and hurried from the church after Abby. The picture that people might have seen while passing by would have been peculiar, to say the least. A bonfire was flaring up on the preacher's driveway. Pieces of paper floated throughout the air. If one looked closely at them, he or she would find that they looked very much like sections of a wedding program. The two girls involved attracted the most attention. Those familiar with the neighborhood would recognize one of them as the preacher's adopted daughter. And the other? Oh good heavens, not that girl. In the earlier years of the two girls' friendship, trouble had been known to follow them everywhere. Now even though the girls were much older, there was still speculation that the preacher's house would be ashes come morning. The girls were having altogether too much fun shoveling wedding cake and other unusual fuel into the glowing fire. If the preacher and his wife had been home, none of this extreme foolishness would have ever taken place, but they weren't, and so this makeshift party continued long into the late shades of night.