“You know, if I looked real hard I could probably dig up that ring from the Cracker Jack box. It’s not too late. I mean, you’re already dressed. I could slip the preacher a twenty, steal a couple of your mother’s flowers, put a couple cans on my truck, and together we could ride off into the sunset.”

I looked at William standing there, looking as debonair as ever. Slightly over six feet, with cocoa-brown skin that matched his naturally hazel eyes. He was a looker. Unfortunately he was also incredibly boring. To William, a wild and adventurous evening meant ordering a pepperoni pizza and watching Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, or the original version of Doctor Dolittle with Rex Harrison. He was a kid at heart, but having inherited his father’s construction business, William had become a living, breathing, talking routine. Like The Truman Show, his life was predictable, repetitious, and mundane. He stood poised for an answer and finally, I responded.

“As much as I would love to accept your offer, you’ll be happy to know that someone is likely to have beaten you to the punch. I have a new man who happens to be a very strong candidate for marriage.”

“Oh great, what’s his name? Bob, Ted, Jim, Jack, John…”

“Ha, ha. His name is Graham and he’s invited me to Chicago for Thanksgiving.”

“Should I order my tux? You know, I’ve been meaning to pick one up for some time now. I just haven’t gotten around to it yet.”

“No, but you should probably order a stretcher for my mother. When she hears the news, she’ll hyperventilate, fall to the ground, knock herself unconscious, and end up ruining the day she’s been praying for since the day I was born a girl.”

“Well, I better let you finish getting ready. Again, you look breathtaking. I mean, really beautiful.”

Winking and smiling, he walked out the door.

With William gone my thoughts were now back to Graham. Thinking of Graham is the only thing that’s going to get me through this wedding without losing my mind. Especially since I know that in any minute my mother is going to come barreling through the door.

No sooner had I thought it, than the door swung wide open and there she was. In a moment of dramatic pause she appeared in the doorway, adorned like the Queen of Sheba. A fabulous laced gown suited for royalty covered every inch of her body. She entered, twirling around like a schoolgirl, making me scatter through my purse searching for anything resembling tablets of Tums, Rolaids, or Pepto-Bismol.

“Isn’t it fabulous?! Not bad for a fifty-eight-year-

old woman,” she said, grinning from ear to ear, as I thought to myself, you haven’t seen fifty-eight in five years.

“So…what do you think?”