Aunt Vivien's Wedding

It was official: Aunt Vivien was marrying a Culpepper. The Culpeppers were one of the premier families in town.  Aunt Vivien was marrying the youngest son, Edward Alexander "Cashew" Culpepper, nicknamed Cashew because he was "such a nut." Cashew was considered a good catch, being both well-liked and well-off.  It was generally believed that Aunt Vivien had done all right for herself.

My new uncle was handsome in a soft-chinned, large-eyed sort of way.  Thanks to his family, he worked in the biggest bank in town and the talk was that he "made a good living."

Aunt Vivien had a flashy engagement ring and she and Cashew were already house hunting.  The wedding was to be held on the last Saturday in September at the First Baptist Church.  It was to be a big event.  Vivien would have eight bridesmaids, a maid of honor, a matron of honor, two flower girls, and a ring bearer.  Her colors were peach and mint.

Granny Walker was not pleased about all the expense of the wedding and while fond of Cashew, she still had misgivings about Vivien's choice of groom.  "Lord knows Cashew is sweet," she told Aunt Maude.  "But he's not overly bright."  Nevertheless, loyal to her daughter,  she was determined to make Vivien proud.

Ina Belle Hightower rushed over the morning she heard the news of the engagement.  Red faced and excited, she barged into the kitchen where Granny, Vivien, Ella, Daddy and I were having the last of the morning coffee.

"Yoo hoo," she cried from the doorway.  

Daddy rolled his eyes.  He wanted to leave, but Mrs. Hightower was blocking his escape route.

"I just heard the good news.  Vivien is marrying a Culpepper.  What a triumph for your family."

Granny stared at her uninvited guest.  "Triumph?" she asked.

Ina Belle hesitated for a moment.  "Yes, the Culpeppers are a fine family and young Cashew, I mean Edward, is a good catch."  Mrs. Hightower smirked and said,  "You know, my mother was a Culpepper."

"Yes," Granny replied.  "You've mentioned that before."

"Have I?" said Ina Belle with a forced laugh.  "Oh, well."  Looking at Ella she said,  "Someday, it'll be your wedding we'll be rejoicing over, Ella, darlin'.  I hope you someday marry a man just like Edward Culpepper."

"What an interesting idea," responded Ella with a look of fear on her face.

She turned to Vivien and said,  "I wish you every happiness my dear.  Do you realize this makes us related?  Edward is my nephew, once removed."

"Well, damn, I'm impressed," hollered Daddy.  "It's nice to be part of the family.  How's the world treating you cousin Ina Belle?"

Mrs. Hightower's face froze in dismay.  Granny looked stern as she tried to control her laughter while Ella and I looked down at the table to keep Mrs. Hightower from seeing our faces.

"Wade, you hush," demanded Aunt Vivien.  "Thank you, Mrs. Hightower, for your good wishes.  I look forward to seeing you at the wedding."

Ina Belle recovered and said,  "Of course, my dear.  I look forward to it as well." With one final baleful look at Daddy, she left.

"For a fat woman, cousin Ina Belle sure can move fast," Daddy said.

Ella and I burst out laughing while Vivien and Granny looked on disapprovingly.

"That will do," said Granny.  "With this marriage, Ina Belle becomes family, so Wade Walker, you be nice."

Daddy looked disgusted and asked, "Vivien, can't you find somebody else to marry?"

"Wade, you stop it," demanded Vivien.  "I have enough to worry about with the wedding plans.  I don't need to put up with you being rude to my future relatives."

Daddy walked out of the kitchen, shaking his head the entire time.  "You think you've got problems now, wait till you're married."

"You're absolutely right, Wade," said Aunt Ella.  "I'm certain that if Mary Pat knew what she was getting into by marrying you, she would have burned the church."

"Yes, sister and I would have given her the matches," Daddy answered.

The wedding preparations were the source of many arguments.  Being a prominent family, the Culpeppers had prominent friends, herds of them.  The family presented Granny Walker with a guest list of nearly 400 names.  The church held only 500, so the implications were obvious.  Granny was furious, but Aunt Vivien was more than willing to sacrifice her relatives.

"We don't have to invite Charlie Watkins and his family, that saves seven people right there."

"But Charlie is your cousin," protested Granny.   

"I don't care, he's an embarrassment.  He dips snuff, for goodness sake," Aunt Vivien cried.

"Not in church he doesn't," Granny Walker reasonably pointed out.

Nevertheless, Vivien ruthlessly culled cousins, neighbors, girlhood friends, high school teachers, and other drab, low-income folks, in favor of the high and mighty.  The guest list included state representatives, doctors, judges, a U.S. Congressman, and a former Miss Louisiana and her insurance agent husband.  The final total was over five hundred guests.  Granny shook her head sadly as she showed the list to Grandfather Walker.  "I know about seventy-five of these people."  

There had even been a fight over close relatives.  Stressed and anxious to make a good impression, Vivien had wanted to delete Aunt Maude and her sister Ella from the guest list.  "Ella is so damn fat, she'll take up two places and no matter what she wears, she'll look tacky.  Did you see that yellow dress she wore to the movies last night?  She looked like a taxi cab coming through the door and Aunt Maude looks dreadful with that club foot of hers.  It's just not very pretty."

Granny went ballistic.  "Vivien Berengaria Walker, if your sister or your aunt are not invited to this wedding, there won't be any wedding because I will not pay a dime for it.  Girl, I am ashamed of you.  How in the world did I raise such a shallow daughter?  Ella and Maude are two of the kindest people you'll ever know.  If you can't appreciate them, then more fool you.  Nevertheless, they will be at the wedding and you will treat them decently."

Remorseful, Aunt Vivien made sure Ella and Maude received their invitations.

The next fight was over the attendants.  Cashew's mother, Frances Culpepper, had the audacity to send Aunt Vivien a list of "suggested" attendants, not one of whom was a close friend of Vivien's.  

She took four of the Culpepper suggestions and four of her own choices for bridesmaids.  She picked her choice for the maid of honor, but selected Cashew's sister as matron of honor.  The Culpeppers got both flower girls, but Aunt Vivien chose the ring bearer.  It was me.

Nobody had asked me if I wanted to be a ring bear.  I wasn't even sure what a ring bear did.  I just knew I didn't want to do it.

"Jesse darlin', it's a great honor to be asked to be in someone's wedding," Vivien explained.

"Fine," I replied.  "Then go honor somebody else."

"Look little mister, you are gonna be my ring bearer and that is final.  Now shut up and go outside and play."

As I left the room I heard Granny Walker admonish Vivien, "There's no need to be mean to Jesse."

"I'm not mean to Jesse," Vivien insisted.  "It's just that I have a lot on my mind and I don't have time for his fuss."

Granny and Vivien's sisters looked over the list.  Vivien chose her best friend, Larnelle Hughes to be maid of honor.  Since Vivien's other sisters, except Ella, were married, that left only matron of honor.  Veronica and Nora were furious to see Cashew's sister, Noreen Bolton, listed as matron of honor.

"You picked Fuzzy Bolton as your matron of honor?" said Aunt Veronica.  "I don't know whether to laugh or spit."

"Noreen is nice," Aunt Vivien said unconvincingly.

"She has a permanent five o'clock shadow.  Her beard will rip the taffeta."

Noreen Bolton was, at the time, thirty years old.  After the birth of her third child, she had undergone a series of "female" operations.  I wasn't sure what that meant, all I knew was that after every "female" operation, Noreen Bolton became more masculine.  Shortly after her last surgery, depleted of nearly all her female organs, Noreen developed a moustache and a permanent beard line.  It was then that people began to refer to her as "Fuzzy" Bolton.  Noreen's solution was to wear impossibly heavy makeup. 

  

Fuzzy's husband, Johnny Bolton, had left her for one of my mother's sisters, my Aunt Laverne, saying he was tired of a life of razor burn.  Needless to say, neither Uncle Johnny nor Aunt Laverne were on the guest list.

Aunt Vivien registered at Carlyle's, the "nice" department store.  She picked out her patterns, had a bridal gown made and sat back to collect the loot.

At first, the pickings were pretty slim; the first gift to arrive was a real disappointment.  One Culpepper great-aunt, a woman so rich she had to sweep the money out of the hallway to answer the door, sent the first present.  It was a copper wire shaped like a donkey with a plastic container on each side like miniature saddle bags, one for salt, one for pepper.  She hadn't even bothered to take off the "Made in Mexico" label.

"Hideous," said Aunt Veronica.  

Vivien, who had opened the package with fierce excitement, burst into tears.  Cashew had a different opinion. 

"I kinda like it.  It's pretty."

Vivien disagreed.  "Who in the hell would send this as a wedding gift?  Your Aunt Bertha is pathetic."  Vivien nearly rescinded Bertha Culpepper's wedding invitation.

Cashew tried to calm his bride, telling her the gifts weren't important.  Aunt Vivien was disbelieving.  "Honey, getting gifts is the nicest thing about getting married." 

"The hell it is," replied Cashew with a curious intensity. Vivien slapped his shoulder.  "You be quiet," she ordered.  "Mama might hear you."

As the weeks went by, the gifts accumulated.  Vivien's friends and family were the ones who bought the nice stuff -  the china, the crystal and the silver.  Aunt Vivien received a Waterford crystal bowl from Aunt Maude. 

The Culpeppers and their friends were a different story.  One state senator sent a stack of ashtrays with an impression of his campaign logo printed on them.  A week later, Aunt Vivien received in the mail a request for a campaign contribution from the same senator.

Cashew's grandmother, Josephine sent a copy of the Culpepper family tree, wildly embellished and suitably framed, as a gift.  Cashew's brother Rodney and his wife Lola sent a wormwood-ridden player piano, claiming it was an "heirloom."  Aunt Vivien was near despair.

Granny Walker told her, "Look Vivien, that's why those people have money.  They never spend it."

Vivien recovered and went into debt for the living room furniture she had hoped would be a gift from Cashew's parents.  Their wedding gift was a new motorcycle for Cashew.  Vivien's sisters chipped in and bought her the dining room set she wanted.

A week before the wedding, practical Aunt Veronica went to Vivien and said, "Face facts, honey, you're not going to get a dime of the Culpepper's money.  They're going to treat you like dirt.  Call the whole thing off while you still can."  

Aunt Vivien wouldn't listen.  "The Culpeppers are dreadful," she admitted.  "But Cashew is really sweet and I do love  him.  So, I guess I'll just have to put up with his family."

Veronica looked disappointed and said,  "All right sister, you know best.  I'm just grateful my in-laws are dead."

"Veronica, that's a terrible thing to say," said Vivien.

"I suppose it is, but my life is a lot easier than yours will be.  In-laws can be a lot of trouble."

The night of the wedding rehearsal was not much fun.  First of all, I dropped the imitation wedding rings and Aunt Vivien screamed at me for three minutes.  Granny took me by the hand and said, "Come on, boy, you don't have to listen to this nonsense."

For the rehearsal dinner, the groom's family had invited everyone over to their house.  They served barbecue and potato salad, washed down with cases of Pabst Blue Ribbon Beer.  Aunt Vivien, who had been expecting a formal dinner at a nice restaurant, was once again in tears.

Granny disapproved of the beer and said so frequently.  Daddy was delighted and towards the end of the evening entered into a belching contest with Cashew and his brother Rodney.  Vivien was mortified.

Late that night I sat on the back porch and listened to Vivien talking to Granny in the kitchen.

"Well, tomorrow's going to be a busy day," Granny said.  "You should be in bed."

"Yes, Mama, I'm going.   But, I feel strange leaving home.  I'll miss this house."

Granny patted Vivien's hand and said, "Well, I'd be awfully hurt if you didn't."

Looking through the doorway, I saw Vivien hug Granny's neck as she said, "Thank you, Mama."

"For what?"

"For my wedding, for always being in my corner, for being a wonderful mother."

Granny looked pleased.  "You're quite welcome."

"Oh Mama, I've been so anxious for my wedding day and now, I wish it was a year away," Vivien said.

"It's just nerves," Granny assured her.  She paused and then said,  "Vivien, I suppose it's rather late for this, but I think we should have a little talk."

"About what, Mama?" Vivien asked.

Granny grew tense and lowered her voice. "Vivien darlin', there are often a lot of surprises about marriage."

"Surprises?" echoed Vivien.

Granny nodded yes.  "Sometimes they can be pleasant surprises, others may be a lot less pleasant.  As a man, Cashew will insist on certain physical intimacies."

Vivien smiled but hid her face from Granny.  "Do you mean sex?"

"Vivien, hush!  To a proper unmarried girl, sex should only mean gender."  Granny paused to compose herself and took another drink of her Kool-aid.  "Now then, Cashew's demands may seem shocking to you."  She paused again, "They will be a shock, won't they?"

"Oh absolutely, Mama," Vivien assured her.

"I'm glad to hear it.  Now then, no matter how disgusting he may seem, it's a base desire in men and you just have to deal with it."

Vivien looked confused.  "Are we still talking about sex?"

"Yes, God help me," said Granny loudly.  "Now quit interrupting!  As your mother, I am trying my best to prepare you for married life.  Unfortunately, all I can really do is hope for the best and prepare you for the worst.  But it's important that you have some idea of what to expect."

Vivien took pity on her embarrassed parent.  "Mama, it's all right. I know all about it."

Granny was shocked. "Vivien, has Cashew taken liberties?"

"Oh no, Mama.  Well, not many.  I mean, Veronica explained everything to me."

Granny looked as if she had just been slapped.  "Veronica!  She had no business doing that.  Still, I guess it's best to be prepared.

Vivien smiled and said,  "Wade offered his advice too."

Granny looked shocked.  "Wade!  Heaven help us.  Vivien, don't you listen to him."

"Mama, who told you when you got married?" Vivien asked.

Granny smiled at the memory and said, "Your grandmother.  All she told me was that men were worse than goats, and that every time my husband touched me, I was to close my eyes and pray out loud or if necessary, sing a hymn."

"It's a miracle you had any children at all."

Granny said, "I was lucky.  I loved your father and he was very gentle.  So pretty soon, I was looking forward to it."

"Why, Mama!"  The two women looked at each other and both began to giggle.  I knew Granny would be very unhappy to know that I was listening to their conversation, so I sat perfectly still.

Vivien kissed Granny's cheek and then stood.  "I'd better get some sleep."  As she walked past Granny she leaned down and said,  "Thank you for the informational talk."

Granny laughed again. "Oh you get yourself to bed."

"Good night Mama."

After Vivien left, I watched as Granny folded her hands and bowed her head.  I heard her say,  "Dear God, please watch out for my daughter.   I know Cashew isn't the brightest man coming down the road, but he has a kind heart and that's so important in a husband.   I know Vivien has a shallow streak, but it's probably my fault.  I've spoiled her a lot.  Amen."  As she stood to turn out the light, I tiptoed down the hall to the stairs and went to my room.

The day of the wedding was as chaotic as most wedding days.  Granny Walker, as was expected, shed a few tears.  Then she began to nag everyone so intensely that we were dressed and ready for the ceremony four hours early.  

The Culpeppers insisted that we use a family heirloom to carry the rings during the ceremony.  It was a huge red satin covered pillow stuffed with feathers.  Frances Culpepper told Granny that the "family pillow" was over a hundred years old and had been used at their weddings ever since 1847.

The pillow was the size of a seat cushion and difficult for an eight year old boy to handle.  At the church, Granny took the wedding rings and sewed them to the pillow with a couple of stitches.  Several times, I practiced pulling the rings, so that the threads snapped cleanly.  Finally, Granny sewed the rings to the pillow for the last time and I was ready.  

It was a very hot day and I was wearing a new suit that chafed nearly everywhere.  Sweat ran down my back, arms, and legs; I had never been so uncomfortable.  That morning, I had begged Granny to let me wear something else, but she refused.  "We paid a lot of money for that suit and you're going to wear it."

At last, we lined up and the procession began.  As instructed, I walked solemnly down the aisle ahead of the sulky Culpepper flower girls.  I did not look to one side or the other, but I do remember seeing Aunt Ella smiling at me.  She was wearing a plum-colored dress with a matching hat that looked like an upturned sombrero.

We assembled at the altar and the service began.  Aunt Vivien looked beautiful.  She wore a lace covered white dress with a long veil that was most flattering.  Cashew looked flushed, but very handsome.  He and his best man, Jimmy Hightower, both smelled of Wild Turkey.  Jimmy was Ina Belle's smoothly handsome son.  His reputation as a skirt chaser was so notorious, most respectable families wouldn't allow their daughters to go near him.

The service began.  Reverend Grimsby asked for the first ring. I tugged it off the pillow and handed it to the best man who handed it to the groom.  So far, so good.

It was the second ring that caused all the problems.  When the minister called for the second ring, I attempted to pull it off the pillow.  This time the threads would not break.  I yanked hard, but the threads just stretched, refusing to give.  

By now everyone was looking at me, and I was getting nervous.  I thought about biting the threads, but I was afraid I might swallow the ring. 

"Hurry up, you little jerk," hissed the best man.  

I was near panic.  Finally, I just grabbed the ring and pulled it as hard as I could.

In the next instant, there was a tearing sound as the pillow ripped in two.  An atomic mushroom cloud of feathers floated into the air.  It was incredible how many feathers that pillow contained.  There were feathers everywhere.  In the air, on the floor, on the altar, on the minister, on the groom, on the best man and all over the bride.  The feathers stuck in Aunt Vivien's veil and she looked as if she had just eaten a live chicken.  

Worst of all, I had dropped the ring.  I fell to all fours and searched frantically through the mound of feathers.  The best man joined me, cursing under his breath.  Aunt Vivien began to sob loudly.  Her beautiful wedding was ruined.  In the church, the only other sound you could hear was that of five hundred people choking, trying not to laugh.  The entire back half of the congregation stood up, trying to see what was happening.  

Our neighbor, Ina Belle Hightower later told me it looked as if a turkey had exploded over bride and groom.

Frances Culpepper stood and yelled, "They've destroyed the family pillow," then she fainted.  Noreen abandoned her feather covered post by the bride to attend to her prostrate mother.

After an eternity, the best man found the ring. 

Unfortunately, as he tried to stand, he slipped on some feathers and stumbled forward against the altar.  He cut open his forehead and began to bleed.  Between the feathers and the blood, it looked as if we were participating in some sort of voodoo ritual rather than a Baptist wedding.  

Reverend Grimsby moved the ceremony along as quickly as possible.  He began to babble so rapidly, he sounded more like an auctioneer than a preacher.  The best man had to sit down as he was getting faint.

Finally, it was over.  Aunt Vivien and Cashew fled up the aisle of the church as if they were being chased by the police.  

The bleeding best man reached for the arm of the reluctant maid of honor.  Larnelle shrank back in disgust.  "Don't you touch me, you're all bloody."  Jimmy Hightower ignored her protest and snarled, "I don't give a damn."  He seized her arm and they walked down the aisle looking as if they had just crashed into a poultry truck.

As the bridal party raced down the aisle, they scattered feathers all over the congregation.  People were batting away bits of fluff and picking debris off themselves.  Frances Culpepper regained consciousness, but started sobbing and didn't stop for the rest of the day.

I felt terrible and, covered with feathers, I looked it.  I went down to the basement of the church to hide.  Sitting in a far corner, I started to cry.  I had ruined Aunt Vivien's wedding.

I'm not sure how long I was down there, but after a while I heard my name being called.  Granny Walker, Aunt Ella, and Great-Aunt Maude were looking for me.  At first, I didn't answer.  Finally, in total misery, I climbed out of hiding.

"Here he is," cried Maude.  Aunt Ella handed me a handkerchief and hugged me.  "Don't you worry, sweetie pie, it doesn't matter."

Granny agreed.  "It wasn't your fault the Best Man was too drunk to stand up.  

Aunt Maude said, "They've had to take him to the emergency room for stitches.  Lord he was mess, he looked like he walked into a buzz saw."

"You're not helping, Maude," whispered Granny.

"I destroyed the Culpepper family pillow" I said..

"That old thing?  If it was that fragile, Frances should never have insisted on using it."  Granny paused and then smiled at me.  "It was old and ugly anyway."

"Kind of like Frances," said Aunt Maude.  The women laughed and I felt slightly better.

Aunt Ella smiled at me and said, "Jesse, I need an escort to the reception.  Will you do me the honor? " 

I nodded yes and held out my arm.  Aunt Ella placed her gloved hand on my arm and we left.  The four of us drove to the reception.  When we arrived, it seemed as if all the guests could talk about were the feathers.  Twice people took Aunt Vivien into the ladies room to pluck her, but she still left a trail of feathers whenever she danced.

I hid from her for most of the reception.  At one point she saw me and crossed the room in my direction.  I was terrified she was going to hit me. I sat in the chair looking down, praying I'd become invisible.  Vivien's shoes and the edge of her dress came into view.  I could still see one or two feathers.

Aunt Vivien called my name and I looked up.  Everyone was watching us.  She leaned down and kissed me on the cheek.  "Don't worry, Jesse, it's all right.  I wanted to have a wedding I would never forget."  She smiled and said, "As God is my witness, I never will."  She shook her head and said, "I can't wait to see how the wedding pictures turn out."  

She then took me by the hand, curtsied slightly, and led me out to the dance floor.  Aunt Vivien turned back to her guests, laughed and said, "Everybody, this is a party, enjoy it."  The tension left the room and people began to have a good time. 

Vivien and I began a waltz.  

It was her finest hour.  Aunt Vivien had taken her disastrous wedding in her stride. A couple of minutes later, Uncle Cashew cut in and swept my still slightly feathered Aunt Vivien away.

© Robert Mueller, executor of the Dan Carter Estate