I always feel so empty when my cousins leave. I’ve felt empty for most of today.
There’s nothing like working for eight hours, anticipating the end of your shift, then getting a call from your other job asking where on earth you are because you were supposed to be there a half hour ago. Then once there, it’s almost finally time for you to go home, and your boss comes up and asks if you can stay two and a half more hours until closing.
I almost cried.
Today wasn’t a good day anyways, but add the prospect of it being a thirteen and a half hour workday and the whole thing falls to pieces. I asked one of the other girls working–who was planning to just hang out there until closing–if she would work in my stead. She graciously agreed. God bless her.
The wedding went very well; for any who were wondering, I was worried about her not wanting me there because I can’t remember on what terms we parted last–it’s been more than a year, more than a year and a half really. If you remember, I mentioned before that Devon and Bethany and my sister and I were all quite close; but Devon didn’t invite me to her wedding three years ago because she knew how I felt about her lifestyle and was afraid I wouldn’t come. (Which was completely not true, but the knowledge that she thought that has bothered me ever since.) With not being in contact with Bethany for so long…you see, she has my numbers, but I don’t have hers. (Her family changes it like it’s going out of style) so she could contact me if she wanted–or, so I thought. But she didn’t, and I feared what reasons may have been her motives.
Devon was a bridesmaid, something I wasn’t really expecting at all. She did a double take when she saw me sitting in the sanctuary. I haven’t talked to her in about two years, not long after I visited her right after her son was born. I felt cold chills as she looked at me. I couldn’t quite read her expression; whether she was pleasantly surprised, or wondering how on earth I found out about the wedding, or both.
But after the ceremony, as we moved at a snails pace through the receiving line, when I reached Devon she demanded a hug. Bethany screamed the moment she saw me, and as we embraced she kept asking, “How did you find out? How did you find out?” and I tried to explain–a member of her church whose name I don’t know but works at Rhodes’ place where I eat lunch sometimes remembered when we sang together and she told me…but I don’tknow if she heard anything, she kept saying how glad she was that I came. Then came the preposterous question:
“Why didn’t you ever call me, you retard?” Or some other name of that sort. To which I promptly replied:
“Because I don’t have your number, doofus!”
And it was almost as if we were thirteen again, giggling laughing little girls, calling each other names; it was difficult for me to pull myself back to the present, where Bethany was asking if I was staying for the reception. I couldn’t; we had told the family that we were only staying for the ceremony. (Kelsy and Brittany had come with me–they knew Bethany too. We had once all gone skinny dipping in my pond together. We got in heaps of trouble for that episode…I was surprised when Bethany not only remembered their names, she also knew which was which. She was ecstatic over their presence as well.)
I got to see Caleb, Devon’s son. I can’t explain to you the amount of relief I felt when Devon introduced me as “Mommy’s friend”. All worrying was in vain, again, it seems. She and her husband are divorcing; she’s going to get her G.E.D. so she can get a job to support herself and Caleb. I admire her strength, but my heart aches for her. She’s eighteen.
I learned a real song on the violin; Brittany taught me “Swallowtail Jig”. Wonderful, wonderful. We also wrote a song, the three of us, now that we all play the violin. It was all quite fun.
Until next time…