June 1956 • Upland ~ The first time my parents were together after their divorce was at Larry and Marian’s wedding. I have an 8” x 10” glossy reminder of the occasion: the respective parents are flanking the bride and groom, Marian’s parents to her right, smiling big and happy and Larry’s to his left, looking, well, just looking. Mom, having shown up a tad on the drunk side, is white-hatted and gloved, peering through her rhinestone, cat-eyed glasses. Dad, who was Larry’s best man, is tight-lipped and granite-jawed; his fingers tense, appearing trapped and uneasy. My father’s tie is sticking out, looking as ruffled and caught as he is.
The family plot had thickened. Mom was married to Ray and Dad had married Irene, a woman nineteen years his senior with an uncanny resemblance to his mother impersonating Mae West. Irene was a well-dressed matron whose downtown attire was a suit, high heels, hat and gloves; and whose cocktail apparel were gowns, silk hose, furs, and diamonds. If you lived in San Francisco in the 1950s, you dressed for it. She moved in a cloud of pancake make-up, her false eyelashes and kohl-lined eyes slightly sagging above layers of red lipstick that leaked into the lines around her lips. She had bleached-blonde curly hair and smelled like a mix of heavy perfume and mothballs. Irene was the toast of the San Francisco cocktail circuit—married to my conservative, not-much-of-a-drinker father. If he had more than two highballs he got sicker than a poisoned pup.
It was better that Irene wasn’t there for Larry’s wedding. The first time Marian met her, she made the mistake of showing Irene the wedding photos with her new husband standing next to his former wife. Irene was fist-pumping, neck-snapping, foot-stomping furious. She didn’t want any reminders that he’d been married before or that he had children. It was a good thing he and his tie looked so nervous.
to be continued…
© 2018. Catherine Sevenau.
All rights reserved.
Deborah Bennett says
Wow! I don’t comment about every online serial segment of yours that you post, Catherine, but every single time the unposted response post of mine would be just Wow. The passion and the power with which you write about Remembrances of Things Past is right up there with the very best of the best of them. Sometimes I think you have no idea just how extraordinary it all is. Perhaps you could live somewhere exotic and assume some Hemmingway machismo and generate massive fame and fortune. But then, he killed himself, and you are still here and sharing your story which has so much universality and importance that my wish is that it be heard by more.
Catherine Sevenau says
I see you’ve been following along from the beginning. Thanks for joining me for the ride.
Louise says
This photo reminds me of a recent wedding picture in our family. The people are all still alive or I’d send it to you. Makes me wonder how many other wedding pictures are “uncomfortable”
mini kelly says
Funny descriptions. Quite the wedding eh??? Think you are more like your Dad???
Catherine Sevenau says
Yes, I am far more like my dad.