The Bride Wore Black

The bride wore black, because the groom was dead. The bridesmaids all wore black, too. The bride had wanted one of those modern weddings in which she wore white and the bridesmaids wore black. She hated pink and teal and also hated the idea of forcing all the bridesmaids into the same dress, especially since they ranged in size from two to twelve and in shape from cinnamon stick to eggplant. So they had bought black dresses to suit their sizes and shapes, and the bride insisted they wear them to the funeral.

It was not to be a formal wedding, after all, so the dresses were not too dressy, were not gowns or anything approaching gowns. And the bride didn't want her bridesmaids to have wasted money on a dress they would never wear. They tried to remind her that a woman can never have too many black dresses, but she seemed to have forgotten, and it was hardly a time to argue the finer points of fashion. Secretly they suspected that she wanted to pass judgment on the dresses and their appropriateness for the occasion, even though the occasion had changed. The bride always had to be the boss, even in a situation like this, didn't she?

The photographer the bride and groom had hired to shoot the wedding came to take pictures of the funeral instead. He found this odd, but the bride said he'd promised her memories that would last a lifetime, and who was he to say she shouldn't have them? Besides, shooting a funeral would be a break from the overwhelming froth and joy that threatened to drown him every time he dove back into it. At the funeral he could explore the way light played off darkness, instead of spending all day trying not to blow out every shot because of the blinding whiteness of the dress, the cake, the tablecloths, the toothy smiles.

The florist and caterer were more than willing to change their plans a little and help out for a reduced fee; how could they not be? The toasts had all been written and could easily be performed without drink in hand. The tasteless jokes stayed in, including the one about how the groom used to torment his brother by dangling spit in his face then sucking it back upward. It was a day for happy memories.

All in all, the event could not have gone more smoothly. The bride even suspected she would get to keep the gifts, though she no longer had any need for the guest towels or the chip-and-dip set, as she did not intend to host any more events as long as she lived. Afterward she went home, took off her black dress, and hung it next to her white one in the closet.