“Well, Mrs. Heckle, I just wanted to talk to you about it because there IS going to be a dress code!”
Mrs. Heckle frowned.
“I’ll wear what I like, and no one will tell me different!” she said. “Well, since I’m paying for the wedding, I beg to disagree!” Clara snapped. Things might have gotten very unpleasant if Brad hadn’t arrived just then, and put a damper on the discussion.
But Clara had an idea. She smiled to herself: “Why don’t I just get the help to take out the trash?” She had a plan, and it was in effect on the wedding day. Mr.
and Mrs. Heckle arrived at the Wellington estate (the wedding was to be held in the garden) and were confronted by a security guard in a smart black suit. The security guard took one look at Mr.
Heckle’s checked brown suit and Mrs. Heckle’s flounced polka dot dress and stopped them. “Excuse me,” he said politely, “I’m afraid you can’t go in.”
“We are the bride’s parents!” Mr.
Heckle said. “We have to go in.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” said the security guard. “But there is a dress code and I was instructed not to let anyone not in compliance in…”
“What do you mean?” asked Mr.
Heckle angrily, “I demand to see Mr. and Mrs. Wellington!”
The security guard looked at Mrs.
Heckle’s bright pink and yellow print dress and winced. “Mrs. Wellington warned me some trashy people would try to get in, I’m acting on her direct orders!”
“Trashy?” cried Mrs.
Heckles, “What do you mean trashy?”
The security guard threw Mr. and Mrs. Heckle a scornful glance.
“If you have to ask…” he sneered, “Now off with you, back to the trailer park you escaped from!”
Mrs. Heckle started to cry and Mr. Heckle put his arm around her.
They were walking away from their own daughter’s wedding because the security guard called them trailer trash! It was then that Brad Senior arrived. “What’s going on?” he asked, and when the security guard told him, he got very, very angry.
“Come with me,” he said to the Heckles and led them inside. Upstairs he ushered them into his dressing room and gave Mr. Heckle one of his tuxedos, then stepped into Clara’s wardrobe and pulled out a fabulous dress and shoes.
“Here,” he told Mrs. Heckle. “It might be a bit big on you, but it should be alright!”
Twenty minutes later, Mr.
and Mrs. Heckle walked into the silk tent in which the wedding was to be held, and at first, Clara didn’t recognize them, then she gasped. Mrs.
Heckel was wearing an Armani dress she hadn’t even worn yet! That was HER dress! Clara opened her mouth to protest and then she saw the look in her husband’s eye.
She smiled graciously and nodded at the Heckles and the wedding march began to play. The wedding was in full swing when the best man announced the toasts, and first up was Brad Senior. He picked up the microphone and smiled at the bride and groom.
“Frannie,” he said. “I want to welcome you to our family! You are everything I hoped my son would find in a wife — a kind, loving woman.
That matters more than anything else, even money. “But in case you’re worried about that, let me tell you that marrying poor girls is something of a family tradition. You know, Brad, when I married your mother, she didn’t have two cents to rub together!
She wasn’t even wearing shoes!”
Clara listened in horror, then as the high society people around her started to sneak peeks at her and snicker, she turned and ran out of the tent and into the garden. She had never felt so ashamed in her life! She was sobbing on a garden bench when she felt a gentle hand on her head.
“Mrs. Wellington?” Clara looked up and saw Frannie looking down at her. “Please, don’t cry, it’s OK!”
“I’m so humiliated…” Clara sobbed.
“The things Brad said…”
“You should be proud of your origins, Mrs. Wellington,” Frannie said quietly. “I think you’re an extremely elegant woman.
I have a lot to learn, and I know if I can learn as well as you, Brad will be proud of me.”
Clara looked at Frannie’s sweet, kind face and said, “Frannie, there’s nothing I can teach you. You are already more gracious than I have ever been, and Brad is already proud of you.”
Frannie smiled. “Nevertheless, I want us to be friends,” she said.
“You see, we both love Brad more than anything and that is a wonderful thing to share!”
Clara went back to the tent on Frannie’s arm, braved the sly looks from her posh friends, and danced all night. Towards the end her feet were sore and she took off her shoes and didn’t care what anyone thought at all. What can we learn from this story?
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If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a woman who is shocked to see her dead husband blink when she kisses him goodbye in his coffin.
