We came to Kansas City yesterday to look at commercial real estate, fill Lori and Danny in on all the good news, and enlist Lori’s help in finding a venue.
The first thing Lori asks me this morning is if I have a budget.
“Hmm, I haven’t thought of that. I was just trying to come up with ideas.”
“You need to figure that out first. I would think a big, formal wedding like what you want will be pretty pricey.”
“I have money in my trust.”
“I thought you wouldn’t get control of your trust until you were twenty-five?”
“I won’t. I got a good portion of it right away, but I put most of it back in the trust. I only kept enough to pay for college and stuff. I’ll talk to Mr. D about it. We want a big wedding. My parents loved a good party. They’d want me to do it up right.”
“So, money’s no object?”
“Yes, it’s an object, silly. I’ll have a budget, but I’m sure that budget will include the ballroom wedding that I’m envisioning. I’m so excited, Lori, and I’m so glad you’re helping me!”
We start by scouring the internet for possible places to hold the ceremony and reception.
By the time Danny takes Phillip to practice with him this afternoon, we have a long list of places to call and get busy on the phones.
I call the places on my list.
One by one, I cross them off the list.
Booked.
Booked.
Booked, booked, and more booked.
Lots of the places I call don’t even answer, so I leave them all the same message.
Hi! This is Jadyn Reynolds. I’m calling, hoping you might have your ballroom/art museum/rooftop ballroom/loft/castle/party room/hovel/dive/shack/hole in the wall available for a weekend in January. Please call me back at blah, blah, blah, blah, blah blah, blah.
I’ve called twenty-seven places and either left messages, been told no, or gotten laughed at.
Seriously. A couple of places literally laughed at me.
“We’ve been booked up for a year,” one woman said haughtily.
I think it might be hopeless.
Lori comes back in from the kitchen. I can tell by the look on her face that her calls haven’t gone any better.
“Everywhere I’ve called has been booked. I even started tossing around the Danny Diamond name, but it hasn’t done any good.”
“Maybe we’ll have the wedding at your house.”
“In January? Uh, I don’t think so.”
“We might have to have it in a tent on the empty lot next to the Diamonds’ house. Can you imagine that in January? Our guests would be frozen solid.”
Lori giggles. “They could be both wedding guests and ice sculptures.”
We laugh about it, although I kinda feel like crying. I finally felt like I had it right.
It would be perfect.
I really could picture it in my mind.
A big ballroom overlooking the Plaza Lights. The ceremony would be mostly white with touches of ice purple. The cocktail hour would have great appetizers and a cool signature drink. There would be a fancy dinner in a chandelier-lit room. The tables would have an icy feel with those white tree centerpieces we saw. There would be cool purple uplighting and lots of candlelight. After dinner, there would be dancing and a lounge area. The colors would get bolder. Black, white, and a rich, deep purple.
Even though I still don’t have a dress, I sorta thought I had it all figured out.
Maybe we’ll end up in Vegas. After the fake Elvis married us, we could sneak into one of the big hotel ballrooms and pretend that was where we got married. Or maybe we could forget about romance and embrace the whole XXX wedding theme. Fake Elvis could marry us in a strip club. Strippers could jump out of the wedding cake. I could wear a white thong and dance around a pole for my first dance. I could have strippers as my attendants.
Speaking of attendants, I even showed Lori the picture of the bridesmaid dress. She thought it was adorable and loved the color.
A few weeks ago, I hadn’t had a clue what I wanted. Now that I have great ideas, I don’t have anywhere to have it.
I’m depressed.
Phillip has a meeting first thing in the morning, so we drive back home late. We are both exhausted and fall asleep as soon as our heads hit the pillow.
It’s January. Snow is whipping through the sky. The wind is howling through the trees. It’s about ten degrees outside, and we’re having our wedding in a tent in the empty lot next to the Diamonds’ house. We have a whole bunch of heaters in the tent, as we’re trying to keep people from getting frostbite.
Phillip and I are cutting the cake when one of the heaters falls over and catches the tent on fire.
Pretty soon, my wedding guests are on fire.
People’s faces are burning off in front of me.
Phillip runs up to me, his face on fire.
His face melts off like wax, but underneath the wax is Phillip’s perfect face.
Which is really freaky.
I scream in my dream and wake up.
I wanna wake up Phillip and talk to him, but I know how tired he was.
Instead, I decide to pray.
When I was a little girl, my mom and I always used to say my prayers together before I went to sleep.
Since my parents are now in heaven with God, I’m not really sure who exactly I’m talking to when I pray.
Yes, I pray to God, but I also pray/talk to my parents. I figure they’re up there with him. I don’t know; it’s like I need guidance sometimes, and it helps me to just talk to them.
Or to God.
Or to anyone who would like to help me—that’s who I really hope is listening.
So, I pray.
Even fold my hands like when I was little.
I ask God to help me figure out a wedding.
I ask my parents for guidance.
I ask my mom how she planned her wedding without going insane.
No one answers me though, and eventually, I fall back to sleep.
