Desert Coral

article by Meredith McKinnie

She had stood by her side years prior on her wedding day. And now it was her friend’s turn to exchange vows. The now bridesmaid wanted to give her best friend the day, the experience, the fairytale. For the sake of anonymity, we’ll call the now mother/best friend of the bride Jane. Weddings are now organized over group texts and informal exchanges on electronic devices, such is the world we live in. The days of collectively trying on dresses with other bridesmaids are for the most part behind us. Everyone orders online, and many see the formally dressed party the afternoon of the event. Jane hosted a shower for her friend, navigated a cake debacle, and eventually laughed off the incident, such is life. But the big day was soon approaching, and Jane’s son would serve in the bridal party.

Jane’s son arrived dressed in a crisp, toddler tuxedo with a ring bearer pillow wider than his little head. Jane’s husband donned a matching tuxedo, and Jane looked stunning in a desert coral long dress, modest and tasteful, and the decided-upon color for all the bridesmaids’ dresses. As the other bridesmaids started removing their dresses from clothing bags, Jane noticed her dress was different, the color slightly off. Apparently, in the mass group text, a change had been made to coral reef, and Jane missed the message. The bride’s family members were baffled at how to handle the mix-up. The bride should be the focus of the event, not an error in bridal party hues. Jane was embarrassed by the mistake, but didn’t particularly think the color variation was even noticeable. Peach is peach, right?

After much ado, it was decided that Jane would stand on the groom’s side, with the thought being that the color variation would be less conspicuous. Apparently, no one thought it odd that one female would be standing alongside the men, conspicuously in the peach dress like the other five maids on the bride’s side. Jane was hurt and felt villainized for her mistake. If a groomsman had made an error in color, would he be ostracized to the side with the females? Would anyone even care?

Jane took it in stride and veered right at the end of her processional. She took her new place at the end, two people down from her husband’s place in the groomsmen’s line. Jane’s mother sat in the audience confused, assuming Jane made a mistake or one of the flower girls needed a second hand. Wounded and isolated, Jane focused on making the most of the moment. Her best friend was saying forever – and some things matter more. Ironically, Jane’s new place provided a magical gift and a new perspective on weddings. From her vantage point, Jane could see her best friend’s face. She witnessed the tears and the smiles and the deep breaths. Her isolation afforded her visibility of the person she cared for the most. The appropriately peachy-hued bridesmaids, fallen in line behind the bride, they missed it all. Jane didn’t just hear the words; she saw them nervously uttered. She could feel the emotion as it was happening instead of imagining her friend’s face from behind her back. Jane preferred her new place, and had she not made a color mishap, she would have never known it.

What had been intended as a punishment evolved into an advantage, a blessing, a privilege. Jane always looks for the beauty in the world, even when she is relegated to the back seat. What she learned is that if you look hard enough, even when you feel ostracized, the light is always there, and sometimes the view is even better.