The day had been one big swarm of activity. Friends. Aunts. Cousins. Mom. They all buzzed in and out of the bridal suite, always in a hurry to tend to one task or another; but never so busy they didn’t stop to tell a joke or share a giggle or gasp at all the beauty. First the iron wouldn’t work, then the steamer malfunctioned. The hemming was taking longer than planned. The rosettes hadn’t been tacked onto the bridesmaids dresses. But as gracefully as possible and with all the finesse expected from a troupe of highly talented theater people, the iron was fixed, the hemming was done, the rosettes were sewed.
And when the dust lifted, there she stood: a bride ready for her groom.
Her mom had just finished adding jewelry. Her girls had helped her slip into her shoes. The dress had been carefully buttoned. The veil was in place.
Christina turned into the mirror.
Wordlessly, she reached toward her anchor; her friend.
Surrounded by the rocks of her world, she had moved from a girl to a bride. A few moments later, from a bride to a wife.