Auntie Mae’s Various Ramblings on Life in a Small Town

Ida Mae Nowes

Nubbins Special Correspondent

IT IS three weeks before my wedding to Merl, and I know some folks are imagining me sitting at my kitchen window with a cup of tea, flipping through flower catalogs and nibbling on wedding cake samples. 

Meanwhile, the cream-colored, perfect-for-a-late-in-life-wedding dress that makes me look 10 pounds thinner that I bought at an amazingly low price, hangs patiently in the closet for the big day.

Boy, am I about to burst some bubbles.

There are no flower catalogs, no cake samples, and not a stitch of new clothing in my closet. I’m not sitting at my kitchen window with a cup of tea, although I am considering a stiff shot of whiskey. Unfortunately, it’s 2 o’clock in the morning and I haven’t had any whiskey in the house since … well … never, so that’s not an option. Instead, I am gnawing my nails and reading elopement stories on the internet.

Until today, it never would have occurred to me that there would be so many web sites devoted to eloping. But now that I am planning a wedding, or rather, watching my wedding plans swirl down the drain, it doesn’t surprise me a bit.

Everything was going along beautifully at first. Merl and I planned a wedding in my backyard on March 25th. We decided on two small arrangements of yellow and white roses from Frieda’s Fancy Florist. My friend Pearl offered to make an almond-vanilla sheet cake with a few more roses on top, bless her heart, and my other friends agreed to do the coffee and punch and finger foods. What sweet friends I have.

The minister at my church, Rev. Wright, agreed to marry us, and she said we could use the church’s chairs, which saved us having to rent them. We lined up Linda Sue Johnson and her string quartet to play some classical pieces, including my favorite, “Claire de Lune.” We reserved a tent, just in case the weather looks iffy. We even managed to narrow down the guest list to 60 people and get the invitations out a month in advance. All very simple… easy as pie.

Until this afternoon.

I was walking with the Walky-Talkies, like I do two or three times a week. Roberta, Pearl, Grace, and Myrtle were there, but Pepper, who is usually late, hadn’t shown up yet. As usual, we were talking about the wedding as we strolled along.

“But what about the dress?” Mrytle asked with impatience. Myrtle has always been the best-dressed of the group. Today she was wearing a gold and red floral jogging suit, though the woman has never jogged a day in her life.

“You’re running out of time, Ida Mae.”

“I know, I know,” I said. “I’m just not that worried about it. It’s not like I’m planning to get a real wedding dress, after all. That seems silly. Just something nice and tasteful. It’s on my list for this weekend.”

Myrtle rolled her eyes. “I would have picked the dress first,” she said, which we already knew.

Just then, we heard Pepper puffing up behind us. We turned around and stopped to let her catch up. I noticed she was holding a copy of the Nubbins Gazette and she looked upset.

“What is it, Pepper?” I asked.

She stopped and stared at me, then said, “Did you send Tim Jackson an invitation to your wedding, Ida Mae?”

“Well, yes,” I said. “We’ve been friends a long time, and technically I guess he’s my boss since he’s the editor of the paper. Why would you ….” I trailed off and looked at the newspaper in her hand. She said nothing and presented it to me gravely, like a shroud, opened to page 4. I read the headline out loud:

“Local Columnist Opens Wedding to Community,” I read.

“What!?!” bellowed Roberta. “Oh, for the … that Tim Jackson has gone too far this time!”

I continued reading: “Ida Mae Nowes, long-time wildflower columnist for the Nubbins Gazette, will marry Merl Demonbreun of Petersburg at a ceremony at her home on Oak Road at 4 p.m. on Sunday, March 25th. The Rev. Geneva Wright of Nubbins First Presbyterian Church will preside. The couple has graciously opened the happy event to the entire community of Nubbins. Please RSVP by March 18th.”

I dropped the paper, speechless.

“Why in the world would he print such a thing?” Pearl asked.

“I think I know,” I said. “I bet the invitation ended up in the press release pile on his desk rather than his private mail pile. It’s happened before. Tim just assumed I meant it for the paper.”

“What are you going to do?” Grace asked, but all I could do was shake my head.

So, now it’s been 18 hours since the article came out, and already I’ve had 132 yes responses to my invitation and only 6 no’s. I’m guessing that’s about 10 percent of Nubbins. I haven’t had the nerve to tell Merl yet.

My friends assure me that this will make a great story and we’ll all find it very funny someday. But at 2 in the morning and nobody here to console me but letsrunoff.com, I’m not feeling much like laughing.