"What happened, dear?" asked Blake.
I tried to get out what had happened through the tears and snuffles. This is what Blake managed to hear - mothers, wedding, dresses, awful.
"Let's go, dear. We need to get you out of here and fast before my mother makes her appearance," said Blake.
Luckily the sunroom is right off the front hallway. Blake led me to the car and made sure I was safely seatbelted in with a box of tissues. I couldn't stop the crying now that I had started. Blake ran back inside to make our excuses to his mother. I thought back over the day and realized I might have jumped to the wrong conclusions about what Phyllis was saying. I had had a hard day and I had known my mother would be a bit much for Phyllis, who lived in a fancy house, on the golf course and whose second home was the country club. My mother was the exact opposite. She worked full-time as a masseuse and had a small apartment over a bar which served as her second home. I'm not sure what I was expecting. I guess I should have foreseen that getting the two of them together would only result in tears but I had to have my mom there with me. She was my rock, albeit a crazy, wild rock. She had always been there for me and encouraged me and loved me and I knew she needed to be there to help pick out the dress. Phyllis had invited herself along but I had thought it would be good to get her perspective on my future dress. Boy was that a mess but at least I was done getting their help and I was done crying about it. Where was Blake?
Just then Blake came running out to the car. "Sorry it took so long but my mom wanted to fill me in on what had happened," said Blake. "It sounds like it was a nightmare."
My blood started boiling again. "What did your mother say happened?" I asked, in measured tones.
Blake looked at me as he started the car. "Well," he said cautiously "she said that your mom was pretty embarrassing at the store and that was why you were probably crying."
"What exactly did she say?" I asked.
Blake didn't say anything. He'd heard my lawyer tone and was cautious.
"Blake, what did she say?" I asked again.
"I'm not exactly sure," said Blake, using his evasion tactics.
"Blake, take me home," I replied curtly.
"Okay, but am I invited in as well?" Blake asked.
"That depends on if you can remember what your mother said," I responded.
"How about you just tell me what happened," said Blake.
"That's what should have happened to begin with," I replied and proceeded to tell him everything that had happened. It took me over 30 minutes to divulge the entire dress shopping craziness and by then we were back at my house.
"I'm not exactly sure what my mother was saying when she said this wasn't going to work but it doesn't really matter to me and it shouldn't matter to you. We're not marrying our parents, we're marrying each other. If they don't like each other, they don't have to come to Thanksgiving dinner or spend Christmas day at our house. We can make our own home and our future and the rest of them don't matter. I love you and I want to marry you and now the bigger question is what are we going to do about your dress shopping? I don't want you to have to go through this again," said Blake.
"I'm glad you asked because I've been thinking about that. I'd like you to go with me. I'll try on some dresses, you give me your opinion and then I can go back later and pick the dress I want. This way you won't have to know what dress I'll be wearing and I won't have to take our mothers dress shopping again," I said.
"Brilliant!" said Blake.
I loved that he was willing to do this for me even though I knew he would hate every moment of it. I also knew that we hadn't heard the last of his mother's objections or my mother's embarrassing moments. Hopefully, we could get through the rest of the wedding planning without any more tears.