heâd won the lottery or something. It was disgusting.
The wedding day arrived, sunny and warm. It should have been raining. They got married in the chapel at the Victoria hospital where Patti used to work. After her husband ran away, Patti had needed a change so she moved to Salt Spring Island to take a job in our hospital. If only her car hadnât broken down. If only Dad hadnât fixed it for her. If only Mom were here.
Sara didnât want to come to the wedding, but I talked her into it. We dressed in our favorite outfits, long cotton skirts and peasant blouses with beaded bracelets. Long earrings dangled from our ears. We made the jewelry ourselves from beads and seashells and feathers. We looked great.
I wanted to sit at the back of the chapel, but they made us sit at the front with the groomâs family. That consisted of Sara andme. And you couldnât really call Sara family, even though she was my best friend. I felt like we were on stage with everyone watching us.
The brideâs side was bursting with familyâa horde of them in fancy dresses and suits. They sparkled with gold and diamonds.
I stared at the back of my dadâs head and concentrated on sending him a message:
Hey, Dad! It isnât too late; you can still get out of it!
âDo you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?â the minister asked
.
I held my breath.
Last chance, Dad. Just say no.
I waited, closed my eyes.
Please!
âI do,â he said, loud and clear.
At the reception Sara and I stood beside a table loaded with tiny sandwiches cut into triangles, stacks of cheese, grapes, pickles, crackers, dips and fancy little cakes.
âMmm, this is so good!â Sara said, stuffing her face. âWhy donât you try some?â She licked chocolate from her fingers.
âIâm not hungry,â I told her. âHow could anyone eat at a time like this?â
âDo you really hate her that much?â Sara picked up a turkey sandwich.
âWho? Patti?â I shook my head. âI donât hate her, not exactly. I mean I kind of feel sorry for her in a way. First her husband leaves her, which is bad enough, but look what he left behind.â
We both looked over at Amy. She sat with her grandmother and was wearing a tacky pink dress with a matching ribbon stuck in her long, blonde hair. Amy saw me, and a little smile crept over her face. I rolled my eyes and turned away.
âCan you imagine living in the same house with her?â
Sara groaned. âBut at least thereâs only one of her. Try living with my sister and brothers and see how long you survive.â
Dad and Patti came over. He looked me up and down and shook his head like he was embarrassed. âMy daughter, the born-again hippie,â he said.
Patti was all gushy and smiley in her paleblue suit. Her blonde hair was tucked into a blue hat that looked like an upside down cookie tin. She laughed. âI think they look nice,â she said and kissed me on the cheek.
Yuck. I hadnât seen that coming.
âI can hardly wait for our boat trip this summer,â she said. âI know weâll get to be such good friends.â
I looked up at my dad. But he was watching Patti with that stupid grin on his face. Some lottery.
After the wedding I had exactly one week left to enjoy my life. I stayed at Saraâs place while Dad and his charming bride went off on their honeymoon. Now thereâs something I never want to think about.
âIf you donât hate Patti, how come youâre so depressed?â Sara asked me one evening. We were sitting in her room with the door locked so her little brother and sister couldnât get in to bug us. As usual, the baby was screaming. Their house was so tiny it was hard to get away from all the noise those little kids made.
âI donât know,â I tried to explain. âSee, Patti was okay as a friend. After Dad met her she sometimes went