Page 68 of Gray Hair Don't Care
“Delia, you’re getting married. You’re the one who’s supposed to be excited.” Of course, Lelawasexcited to see Donovan. But she didn’t want the spotlight shifted.
“I am,” Delia said. “We both are.”
“Who did your hair? You both look amazing.” Tammera’s was natural and curly on top, pulled back tight on both sides with jeweled barrettes to bring out her high cheekbones. Delia’s was up in an elaborate braided twist with tiny white flowers scattered throughout.
“Actually, we did each other’s hair,” Tammera said.
Lela couldn’t help it. Her lower lip jutted out. “That’s so sweet. You’re going to make me cry.”
“Don’t do that,” Tammera said. “We need you to finish up.”
Lela got to work in greater earnest, and had Tammera looking completely fabulous in fifteen minutes. Since Caprice had stepped out, Lela was the sole helper when it came to dressing. She assisted Delia with the zipper on her dress while Tammera slipped into the beautifully tailored white suit she’d chosen, which really showed off her curves.
“You guys are the perfect couple. I’m so happy for you.” Lela figured that if she could find a way to be half as happy as Tammera and Delia were, she’d feel so fortunate.
The three shared a group hug, but Lela kept it quick. They deserved a quiet moment alone before the main event.
“I’ll see you out there,” she said, then ducked into the hall.
Inside the postage stamp of a sanctuary, there were fewer than ten rows of pews. Seated on either side of the aisle was a scattering of guests. Lela recognized some from the Cook It! Studios, or from photos she’d seen of Tammera’s family. Delia’s parents were on hand, as well as her brother and apparently some people she worked with in her practice. Lela slipped into the very last row, and as Donovan had requested, she left a seat for him on the aisle. She silenced her phone, but kept it in her lap so she could check the time.
A tall red-haired woman appeared at the end of Lela’s row. “Is this seat taken?” she asked with a nod at the empty spot on the aisle next to Lela.
“It is. I’m saving it for someone. He should be here any minute.”
She grimaced. “How about on the other side?”
Lela pivoted on the seat and pressed her legs to the side. “Yes. Of course. Come on in.” She smiled at the woman as she got settled. “How do you know Tammera and Delia?”
“I’m a nurse in Delia’s office.”
“Oh, nice. I was just there a few weeks ago with a friend of mine.”
The woman looked at her strangely, which made perfect sense now that Lela thought about what she’d said. What grown woman was friends with a kid?
“I know Delia through Tammera,” Lela explained. “I’ve been friends with Tammera for what feels like forever. I used to be her makeup artist. But then things got super crazy with my job, so I don’t have as much time now. I did do her makeup for today, though.” Lela clamped her mouth shut. She knew she was rambling.
“You’re the gray hair woman. The one in the ads.”
Lela managed a smile. “Lela.”
“Nikki,” the woman replied. “Are you sure your friend is coming?” Nikki whispered.
Lela looked to the back of the church, but there was no sign of Donovan. None. Tammera and Delia walked into the vestibule outside the sanctuary, each holding bouquets, ready to walk up the aisle together. Part of Lela wanted to catch Tammera’s eye and give her one last thumbs up, but it was better to simply watch them fuss over each other, then gaze into each other’s eyes with what was surely true love.
Lela sighed, but tears were threatening. She’d experienced what she thought was love with Donovan so many times, and had taught herself to dismiss it. She’d felt it with him the day she went on Good Day USA. She’d felt it when he came to dinner with her parents. But she’d felt it most when he finally said the words she’d been waiting thirty years to hear—that he didn’t want to just be friends. That every bit of the closeness they shared meant more to him, too.
The processional music started and everyone stood. Lela watched Delia and Tammera march up the aisle together. She was so happy for her friends that it made it easier to tamp down her annoyance with Donovan for being late.
“You may be seated,” the officiant said when Tammera and Delia reached the altar.
Lela sat with everyone else, but she was bursting with so much nervous energy that she started to bob her leg. Where was Donovan? Was he okay? She glanced at her phone, but only for a second. She didn’t want to bethatperson at the wedding. He hadn’t called. There was no text.
The officiant spoke about love and commitment, but Donovan failed to turn up. Delia read a bible passage. Tammera recited a poem. And still there was no Donovan. Lela fought her brain’s most immediate inclinations, the way she wanted to assume that he was going to let her down again. She didn’t believe it. She refused. They’d talked yesterday. Everything was fine. She hoped.
And then, just like that, he slipped into the seat next to her. “Hi,” he whispered.
She turned and looked at him. Her normally handsome and impeccably dressed Donovan had a grease smudge on his cheek near his ear. His hair was disheveled. “What happened?” she whispered.
