Diary of a Mad Bride Read Online Free Page B

them to commute to the city and help. But where my parents can be overbearing, especially my mother, the Stewarts are just plain insane. That’s Stephen’s word, not mine.
    Mr. Stewart owns an electrical repair company and Mrs. Stewart’s an interior decorator with a passion for dogs—in particular, her little chow named Chuffy, whom she carries everywhere in her handbag. The Stewarts separated ten months ago after thirty-five years of marriage. Mr. Stewart now lives in a bachelor pad across town and is dating a woman with whom Stephen and his brother, Tom, went to high school. Perhaps “insane” doesn’t really begin to capturethe family gestalt. In any event, we’ll take their money with sincere gratitude, then handle all the details ourselves.
    Actually, it looks like
I’ll
be handling most of the details. Although I’ve been given the enviable responsibility of overseeing next fall’s “Faces in the City” issue of
Round-Up
, Stephen’s entire company is relying on him to complete production of a new software program by June so they can release it in September. He hasn’t got a moment of free time. So he’s agreed to let me handle all the wedding details—except the band, which he wants to choose. The only thing he asks is that the meal be “real.” He hates finger food.
    Not a problem. I’ve got plenty of time, my trusty list, and an easygoing fiancé who I adore.
    How hard can this be?

august 10th
    L ittle Women
was on TV tonight. Overwhelmed with love, Professor Bhaer proposes to Jo in the pouring rain.
    No movie theater, no concession stand, no artificial butter-flavored popcorn. Just romance.

august 11th
    I t’s my first mini-crisis. The Maid of Honor Dilemma. Mandy, Anita, or my sister, Nicole? It seems so small and insignificant a decision, but the more I think about this the bigger the problem gets. A misstep so early in the wedding process could seriously cripple my chances for smooth andharmonious sailing, not to mention lay the foundation for years of bitterness and latent hostility.
    I guess Nicole’s the easiest to edge out since she didn’t ask me to be her maid of honor, and honestly, we may be sisters but we’re not that close. I mean, let’s be real. She’s Mr. Coffee and I’m a double espresso. Blood may be thicker than water, but unlike me, she’d know exactly what cleansing product to use to get it out of your carpet.
    But Mandy or Anita? My yin or my yang? I’m not Mandy’s maid of honor, and Anita will never have a maid of honor, since hell will freeze over before she ties the knot, so I can’t use the “payback” principle. On a practical level, Mandy is better able to handle the responsibilities. After all, she is the repository of all wedding knowledge. And I doubt Anita even knows about bridal showers, let alone that it’s the maid of honor’s responsibility to throw one. But certainly a party spearheaded by Anita would be significantly more fun than the Stepford Wives luncheon Mandy’s likely to pull together.
    It’s the difference between Sabrina the teenage witch and Buffy the vampire slayer. Neither is truly “right” for the job, but somebody’s got to do it.

august 13th
    I went over to Stephen’s apartment last night to work on the wedding.
    We decided on an evening ceremony with “festive attire,” which means sharp and elegant. Although Stephen and his best man will definitely wear tuxedos. After all, Stephen
is
the groom.
    But it wasn’t the planning that alarmed me that evening. It was his apartment. I’ve been there a hundred times sincewe started dating. We’ve had meals there, entertained friends there, had sex in his bedroom, his bathroom, and on his kitchen floor. But this visit was different. This was the first time I ever really
looked
at his apartment. The apartment of the man with whom I am going to share my life and my living space. Sure, it’s well-lit and fairly clean, but when did it get so TACKY?!
    Is he going to keep that