Wedding Bells

Corrine bit down on her bottom lip and tilted her head to the left. The painting looked dull, even when she tilted her head to the right, it still looked...dark. She sighed, running a couple more brush strokes over it until she decided it would have to do. She took a step back and looked at the painting with wide eyes. Corrine had intended on painting the bird she had woken up to sitting on her window sill. But this bird was not bright and cheerful like the one she had seen. This bird was inside a beautiful cage, its wings only half outstretched and its face looked sad. Corrine did not know if birds could look sad, but this one sure did. Its head hung low, like it was hanging it in sorrow. Now Corrine felt sad. She wanted to free the bird. But it would be eternally trapped there, because she had painted it that way. She looked out of her window into the back yard. The decorators had put up the tent, now it was obscuring her view of the trees and the lake in the distance. Corrine’s heart lurched into her throat at the sight of amount of work that had been done. It was no use. Usually painting would help alleviate any kind of stress or anxiety that she was feeling. But not today, today she was painting caged birds that reminded her of her; trapped in a beautiful house, soon to be trapped in marriage. She jumped in surprise as her door burst open, revealing her mother looking ever glamorous in a skin tight navy blue bandage dress.

“For goodness sake, Corrine,” she huffed, “you’re getting married tomorrow and you decide now is the time to cover yourself in paint. Honestly!”

Corrine grit her teeth to hold back a comment she so badly wanted to release.
“I’ll smack that sass right out of your mouth,” her mother would say if Corrine dared to back chat. Her mother was rushing in her room like a tornado, pulling out clothes from her closet and setting them out on her bed.
Corrine could not even bring herself to watch her. She spoke animatedly as she swirled around the room, looking like a modern-day Dorothy Dandrigde. The wedding planner came rushing in, loose papers flying behind her. She looked like how Corrine felt.
A wreck.

“Mrs. Gale, the McIntyre’s will be arriving in twenty min-“
Susan, the overpriced wedding planner started, but was quickly interrupted by Corrine’s mother’s gasp.

“Corrine, you’re not even dressed!” She made a valiant attempt at a scowl, but Dr. Pather’s work was holding up strong. No expression whatsoever. “Go freshen up and wear this lovely white dress. All white for our bride.”

Corrine cringed at her mother’s not-so-subtle wink in her direction. All white for the virgin bride. She wanted to slap her every time her mother said that. Corrine watched as her mother and the planner talked about the sudden emergencies that came up. She picked up her make-up bag and sauntered into her bathroom. This was not how she imaged her wedding would be like. She had not gotten to pick out anything she wanted, except for the colour of her invitation cards. Her mother had called the pink juvenile, but had given in to Corrine’s pleas just so she could silence her. Her mother may as well have been the one getting married. She had picked out everything, even her husband.
As Corrine walked towards her bathroom door she caught a glimpse of her clock next to her bed. He was probably home now; his plane had landed hours ago. If she closed her eyes, Corrine could imagine that he probably still smelt of desert and gunpowder. By now he should have also seen the card. It made her feel sick enough to gag at the thought of him reading it. But she had wanted him to see it. In a sick masochistic way she wanted him to be there, to see her being given away to someone else. Maybe his heart will squeeze tightly, like it would implode? Maybe then he’ll know what it was like for her to watch him get on that plane.
When Corrine looked at herself in the mirror, she did not recognise the girl who stared back. When did she become so ‘Stepford’?
She had gone back to her natural hair colour, a boring brown; because mother hated the platinum blonde. Nick had been with her when she had coloured it for the first time. He had held her hand as she watched the black roots and white ends come to life.

“Make sure you get all that paint off your skin, we don’t want Joshua thinking he’s marrying a savage.”

Corrine grit her teeth again, scrunching her face at the icy comment. Her mother was so delightful.
Who cared what Joshua thought? He hardly ever did any thinking.
She sighed, looking down as she scrubbed the paint out from under her finger nails. Joshua was not all that bad. He tried with her, he was doing what needed to be done just like her. This had to be done. She really did not have much of a choice. Everybody has to make a sacrifice and this was hers. Joshua was promised to her and her to him. Promises have to be kept so deals could be made.

“Your smile can light up a room,” Nick would whisper before he kissed her on the forehead.

Corrine smiled, as best she could, trying to smile for him even though he was not there. She would hold it this way for the rest of the day.