Or maybe it began with the bridal bouquet, ordered by a friend of the groom, both men believing it a detail left undone, not knowing there were white roses on order, waiting for the couple's arrival in Maine, neither man understanding the importance of those flowers to the bride. She called me during a bit of last minute shopping, finally exhausted, done. A white cake is a white cake is a white cake, she said, but my bouquet! The 2nd bouquet (spring flowers for a fall wedding) was cancelled, and the white roses were there in her arms on her wedding day.
But first she had to get there. With something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. It sounds so easy. But within 5 minutes of waving goodbye at the airport, I received a message that the pearl was missing from that borrowed ring. Gone. An empty space where it once had reigned. I pulled into a parking lot and messaged her back: I will find it.
And the next afternoon I did.
But that morning? That morning's message had been that apparently they would have to return to Texas, the groom having neglected to bring his divorce papers, no place willing to issue a license. As the couple drove from county to county across the state of Maine, on their way to a friend's house (he of the spring flowers bouquet), searching for someone to say yes, here's your license, no problem, I searched the groom's studio, rifling through his personal papers, searching for the missing divorce decree. 3 copies of his will, his voting card, his original birth certificate with baby footprints - all there, but nothing to indicate he'd been married before, much less divorced. Sure it must be there in front of me, I looked several times before calling him back - it was now him I was speaking to; all I could do was say I'm so sorry and give him the phone number of the county clerk's office here at home. The county clerk being no help, another friend's help was enlisted here in town to search internet records, to track down some in-person help if needed. She was successful, but the news was so bad, so perfect for the day, that we had to laugh. All the records from the Year of the Divorce had been accidentally destroyed, nothing to be faxed, nothing to be emailed. Nothing. Zip. Zilch. Nada.
By then, they no longer cared.
They continued the drive - what else could they do? - it just bees that way sometimes. But the giving up proved to be the secret password, the key to unlocking the door of red tape - arriving at last they found a surprise and a friendly welcome waiting at the friend's house. A place willing to issue the license, a person willing to perform the ceremony, but not until Monday. Good enough and thank you and God bless! I left the bride a message: Have a nice weekend.
And they did.
When they returned home,
When things get crazy,
Theirs should be great.