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Friday, July 5, 1991
Meg is getting married in not quite seventeen hours.
Today has passed in something of a rush, a flurry of details and lists and phone calls and confirmations and timetables and, at some point, she is relatively certain she might even have had lunch.
She spent much of the morning with Alain's cousin Maryse, who is in charge of all the lists and details and timetables from here on out. Meg had not been at all sure about handing all that over, because they're her lists for her wedding, even though she knows she's going to have Other Things to focus on for her wedding day. But Maryse has proven to be calm and practical and organized, and moreover she brought her own index cards to their first meeting, and Meg has surrendered custody of her Notebook.
They have successfully rehearsed getting married to everyone's satisfaction. They've practically successfully rehearsed the reception, as almost all of the guests were at the rehearsal dinner that closed down Sylvain's restaurant this evening.
This wedding is as planned and prepared as it can be.
Meg's plans for the rest of the evening involve mint tea, a crossword puzzle, checking to see how the Blue Jays did in Seattle, and getting a decent night's sleep.
All of which she will get to just as soon as she finishes checking the one list she still has, which is a packing list for her overnight bag. After all, the groom is not supposed to see the bride on the day of the wedding until the ceremony starts, which she thinks is rather silly but which matters to Alain. They cannot, therefore, both sleep in this apartment, so Meg is headed off to spend the night at Sylvain and Ginette's.
She could have taken this bag over earlier, of course, but she wanted the excuse to come back to the apartment with Alain after the rehearsal dinner. It's amazing how difficult it is for the bride to find time alone with the groom once the wedding celebrations have started.
Meg is just closing the bag when Alain wraps an arm around her waist. "Do you have everything?"
She nods. "I do, yes."
"And your father won't be here to pick you up for another ten minutes. Whatever will we do with the time?" he asks, though he's already kissing her neck.
"Alain?" Meg asks, a moment later.
"Oui?"
"Luc has the rings, right?"
Alain laughs. "Oui, ma belle."
"And you won't let him forget them?"
"Non," Alain says, moving to kiss her again.
Meg reaches up and lays one finger across his lips. "And you won't let him keep you out too late tonight?"
Alain kisses her finger and then brings his hand up to move hers away. "One drink. That's all. Juré craché."
"All right."
"Ne t'inquiète pas," Alain adds, and Meg lets him turn his attention back to kissing his fiancée.
It's several minutes later, and not without some reluctance, that Meg takes half a step away from him. "I should go," she says. "Dad'll be here soon, and you know what parking's like down there on a Friday night. If I'm waiting, I can just jump in the car when he gets here."
Alain sighs. "My responsible Meg." He brushes one lock of her hair back behind her left ear. "I love you more than I can say."
"Je t'aime, aussi. Je t'adore."
Alain kisses her one more time, and then picks up her suitcase.
"Come on. I'd be a terrible fiancé if I let my bride-to-be wait alone on a street corner the night before the wedding."
"And you've been such a wonderful fiancé so far," Meg says, as they make their way out of the apartment and down the steps. "It would be a pity to mess it up right at the end."
"The end?" Alain asks, holding the door out to the street for her.
"Well, yes. You won't be my fiancé much longer. This time tomorrow, you'll be my husband."
Alain smiles, and reaches for her hand. "And you'll be my wife."
"I will, yes," Meg says. "And that is my dad," she adds, as John Ford's car comes into view. She waves to him, and then takes her overnight bag from Alain. "Have fun with Luc tonight."
"I hope the Blue Jays won for you," he says, as John's car comes to a stop and Meg darts out into the road to get into the passenger seat before the light changes.
"Ma belle," Alain calls, and Meg pauses at the car door. "What does your dress look like?"
Meg laughs. "À demain, Alain," she calls, and gets into the car.
"Until tomorrow, Meg."
Today has passed in something of a rush, a flurry of details and lists and phone calls and confirmations and timetables and, at some point, she is relatively certain she might even have had lunch.
She spent much of the morning with Alain's cousin Maryse, who is in charge of all the lists and details and timetables from here on out. Meg had not been at all sure about handing all that over, because they're her lists for her wedding, even though she knows she's going to have Other Things to focus on for her wedding day. But Maryse has proven to be calm and practical and organized, and moreover she brought her own index cards to their first meeting, and Meg has surrendered custody of her Notebook.
They have successfully rehearsed getting married to everyone's satisfaction. They've practically successfully rehearsed the reception, as almost all of the guests were at the rehearsal dinner that closed down Sylvain's restaurant this evening.
This wedding is as planned and prepared as it can be.
Meg's plans for the rest of the evening involve mint tea, a crossword puzzle, checking to see how the Blue Jays did in Seattle, and getting a decent night's sleep.
All of which she will get to just as soon as she finishes checking the one list she still has, which is a packing list for her overnight bag. After all, the groom is not supposed to see the bride on the day of the wedding until the ceremony starts, which she thinks is rather silly but which matters to Alain. They cannot, therefore, both sleep in this apartment, so Meg is headed off to spend the night at Sylvain and Ginette's.
She could have taken this bag over earlier, of course, but she wanted the excuse to come back to the apartment with Alain after the rehearsal dinner. It's amazing how difficult it is for the bride to find time alone with the groom once the wedding celebrations have started.
Meg is just closing the bag when Alain wraps an arm around her waist. "Do you have everything?"
She nods. "I do, yes."
"And your father won't be here to pick you up for another ten minutes. Whatever will we do with the time?" he asks, though he's already kissing her neck.
"Alain?" Meg asks, a moment later.
"Oui?"
"Luc has the rings, right?"
Alain laughs. "Oui, ma belle."
"And you won't let him forget them?"
"Non," Alain says, moving to kiss her again.
Meg reaches up and lays one finger across his lips. "And you won't let him keep you out too late tonight?"
Alain kisses her finger and then brings his hand up to move hers away. "One drink. That's all. Juré craché."
"All right."
"Ne t'inquiète pas," Alain adds, and Meg lets him turn his attention back to kissing his fiancée.
It's several minutes later, and not without some reluctance, that Meg takes half a step away from him. "I should go," she says. "Dad'll be here soon, and you know what parking's like down there on a Friday night. If I'm waiting, I can just jump in the car when he gets here."
Alain sighs. "My responsible Meg." He brushes one lock of her hair back behind her left ear. "I love you more than I can say."
"Je t'aime, aussi. Je t'adore."
Alain kisses her one more time, and then picks up her suitcase.
"Come on. I'd be a terrible fiancé if I let my bride-to-be wait alone on a street corner the night before the wedding."
"And you've been such a wonderful fiancé so far," Meg says, as they make their way out of the apartment and down the steps. "It would be a pity to mess it up right at the end."
"The end?" Alain asks, holding the door out to the street for her.
"Well, yes. You won't be my fiancé much longer. This time tomorrow, you'll be my husband."
Alain smiles, and reaches for her hand. "And you'll be my wife."
"I will, yes," Meg says. "And that is my dad," she adds, as John Ford's car comes into view. She waves to him, and then takes her overnight bag from Alain. "Have fun with Luc tonight."
"I hope the Blue Jays won for you," he says, as John's car comes to a stop and Meg darts out into the road to get into the passenger seat before the light changes.
"Ma belle," Alain calls, and Meg pauses at the car door. "What does your dress look like?"
Meg laughs. "À demain, Alain," she calls, and gets into the car.
"Until tomorrow, Meg."