I exited the plane at the Austin airport, orange bridesmaid dress in tow. Orange, really? In UT town, orange only has one meaning–the Longhorn football team. What was Christie thinking?
 
Bob, the groom, and Andrew, Christie’s brother, were there to meet me. I was happy to see Bob. Andrew, well, we had history.
 
We were driving to Christie’s house when Bob said, “Guys. I can’t go through with this.”
I choked out. “What!”
“Will you talk to Christie for me?”
“Robert, man up. This is on you.”
 
To give Bob a chance, Andrew and I made ourselves scarce–together–a colossal mistake. I returned bummed, but Christie was all smiles. Clearly, Bob hadn’t said anything, and I’d missed out on a special pre-wedding evening with my best friend. Crap!
 
The next day, as the maid-of-honor, I walked down the aisle, enveloped in orange lace and taffeta, followed by three other orange bridesmaids, and took my place with Bob and Andrew at the front of the church. I caught Bob’s eye, but he looked away.
 
The minister asked if anyone could show just cause why these two should not be wed. My heart started pounding. Bob was staring at me. Was he afraid I would say something or hoping I would? Was it just pre-wedding jitters or total cowardice? Just cause is a legal reason, not idiocy, but I’m pretty sure my story would have stopped the wedding anyway.
 
After the I-do’s, Christie and Bob, effervescent newlyweds, ran down the aisle. I followed, more sedately, my mind full of questions. Instead of champagne and dancing, I was looking forward to getting out of that orange dress.