Rating: PG

Summary: It's T-minus 1...and counting...

Spoilers: Nah.
 

"Loved mistress, here I offer you this coronal;
it is a true worshipper's hand that gives it you
to crown the golden glory of your hair.
With no man else I share this privilege
That I am with you and to your words
Can answer words. True, I may only hear..."

Euripides, "Hippolytus," Lines 83-87. Translation by David Grene. Copyright 1955 and used without permission.
 

Hinc Lucem et Pocula Sacra
 

May 14, 2000

"So what are we gonna do?" Miranda sobbed in anguish.

The dresses had been redyed, but they weren't ready until early this morning. Dana had been a willing spirit and had picked them up for everyone, bringing them to our house where everyone in the party could retrieve theirs.

I could tell from the look on Dana's face when she arrived that things were not what they were supposed to be.

"This is even worse than the first color," Shelby moaned.

"I have to admit, it's not even close to what we requested," Dana shook her head unhappily. "I'll wear it, of course-"

"Well, I'm NOT!" Miranda was utterly hysterical by now.

"It is pretty putrid," my mother concurred, and I could have slugged her. Of course, I'd felt as if I could have slugged my mother since her arrival on Thursday evening.

"I don't care. It's just a dress," Ellen decided.

"It is NOT just a dress!" screamed Miranda.

"Miranda honey, come over here," Joan beckoned her. Miranda was not placated, and virtually ignored her aunt, whom normally she was crazy about.

Jo had come with Joan, and she was taking all of this in.

"Miranda," Joan's voice became a little firmer, "calm down. Now."

"No! I'm not gonna calm down! I worked so hard and it's all shit!"

"Miranda, downstairs until you can chill." I shot her a mom look.

"I AM NOT GOING DOWNSTAIRS!" She ran out the back door instead.

Shelby shook her head. "She's really stressed about this, you know."

"I could tell," I commented dryly. "Look, I'm sorry about the dresses, but all that matters to me is that you show up."

"I think we could do something about the dresses," Jo volunteered quietly.

"It's late. And we'll never find anything at this hour that we can all wear," Dana shook her coppery head.

"What were you thinking, Jo?" Joan asked.

"Well, it's a bit risky, but I think if we got some Rit dye-"

"You mean they still make that stuff?" Ellen looked disbelieving.

"You can still buy it. And while we can't get the color you originally wanted, I think if we go for something like a very deep purple or navy, it could work."

This was contemplated by the crowd. "I could wear either of those colors," Dana decided.

"I don't have a problem with it," Ellen agreed.

"I'll do whatever everyone else wants to do," added Joan.

"I'd rather have purple," Shelby volunteered.

"Let me talk to Miranda, and see how she feels," Joan volunteered, and slipped outside.

I wondered if it hadn't been a mistake to let Miranda do much of the planning. She had enjoyed it, but as the date drew nearer, her stress level had reached Titanic proportions.

Of course, everyone else's had as well. Frohike had been a total shrew-not a term one usually uses in relation to a member of the male of the species-but it fit. Even Michael soft-pedaled it around him, which he rarely ever did. I really did worry that he was going to have another heart attack; he was trying to pull it together, and doing a hell of a job of it from all indications, but he did manage to get into an argument with my mother over the liquor. Frohike had understood she allotted $30 per head;
my mother wanted $40 per head-her friends are heavy duty. A number of frantic phone calls later, the problem had been resolved, but by then, Frohike and my mother had gotten into a screaming match. Being a gentleman at heart, he apologized the next day, and of course my mother looked at him as if she didn't have a clue what he was talking about. I noticed she was
getting a lot more forgetful lately.

And for the first time in my life that I could remember, my mother looked old. Okay, she was going to be 69 in June, but I never before thought of her as old. I'd gotten the skinny from Jason that she hadn't been doing all that well; she wasn't playing as many tournaments or traveling as much. He wasn't sure, but he thought she might be experiencing a set of mini-strokes, at least from what he'd observed. Unbeknownst to me, she'd been in the hospital for four days-and never told any of us. Jason hadn't even known until after the fact.

I did notice that stupid things like Jason's earring seemed to upset her more than usual. She'd always hated his earring, but she was really harping on it this time.

Frohike and Michael had another bout-this time, about Michael's collection of cartilage piercings. Frohike insisted that the nose ring, the chin stud, and the eyebrow ring were not to be worn during the ceremony, and that on his left ear, he had to limit it to one earring. Michael's left ear had been pierced all the way around, and he generally wore ten or twelve earrings at a time in it.

Langly's nose continued to look awful, his face was still bruised, and he bitched nonstop about having to wear contact lenses, which he said felt as if he had ground glass in his eyes. I made a comment about enzyming them-which actually was intended to be helpful-and he went off on me completely. We were barely able to address one another civilly.

Byers nagged and fretted over the details-he was now reminding Langly not to forget the rings about five or six times a day-and he and Langly had argued over that. Then Byers and Juliet got into it, and the last I'd seen them, they were both giving each other the silent treatment.

Miranda screamed at me about everything, Shelby sulked, and I was miserable with my new hair color.

A real happy bunch, we were.
 

"Rehearsal is at 6:30," Frohike reminded all of us.

"Like we're really gonna forget!" Langly snapped back. He was a basket case by now.

"Well, it's 2:00, and it's time to go and pick up tuxes," Frohike reminded him.

"I don't wanna," Langly whined.

"You're going, and I don't want any more lip!" Frohike actually looked as though he might smack Langly-and if he was going to do it, I would have been willing to assist.

"Why can't you just get mine?" Langly wasn't letting up.

"Because what if it doesn't fit?"

"Then I'll go as I am."

"Get moving, Blonde Boy, or I will trade you for cigarettes. Or whiskey. Or anything else anybody offers me."

"Hey, it's not that big a deal," Jason offered. "If it's not right, Ally knows how to fix stuff."

"Excuse me, but does anybody remember that I happen to be the bride?" I shot at my baby brother. I must really be losing it, I thought. Jason and I don't fight. Never have.

"Hey, that was a nice rush job you did on Rob's pants when he got married." My second brother's pants turned out to be too short, and I found myself doing a quick and dirty tailoring job an hour before he was supposed to be at the altar. "And didn't you have to sew one of Dan and Cheryl's bridesmaids into her dress?"

"I am not offering any repeat performances," I hissed. "Now all of you! Male members of the party!" I shrieked, and managed to get the attention of Langly, Byers, Frohike, Michael, Mulder and Jason. "GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE AND DON'T COME BACK UNTIL YOU'RE READY TO GO THE REHEARSAL! Got it?"

Frohike looked around carefully. "I think we'd best do as the lady says. Langly, where's Renegade?"

"Told you, man, he's not getting a tux."

"Well, what is he wearing?"

"I don't know, and I don't care. He said he'd be at the rehearsal. Now get off my case!" Langly looked utterly nervous. If I hadn't been so stressed myself, I'd have had the urge to go over, give him a hug, stroke his hair.

I watched as the male members of the party beat a hasty retreat.

"Dana, yours is behaving today. In fact, he's the only one behaving," I signed to her.

"That's because I told him if he caused any trouble, I'd give him a proctological." The women in the room all burst out laughing, even my mother. No, especially my mother.

"How's he going to get fitted toting the baby along?" Ellen wondered. "And she's crawling."

"That's his problem, not mine," Dana shot back. "He wanted to take her, and quite honestly, I'm happy. She wears me out. She's a love, an angel, but she's quite energetic." Then she smiled. "Thank God." Rebecca seemed to be quite on schedule, which was a huge relief to her parents. She was already, at 7 months, forming rudimentary signs and babbling up a storm.
And crawling everywhere and getting into everything. She was not going to be a low-maintenance child.

"Dana, do you think you could give them all some IV Valium?" I begged.

"Maybe after I give all of us some. We could use it," she stated.

Juliet, who was not a member of the party but was hanging with us, as was Jo, had a better idea.

"Look, I've got a nice bottle of 1800 in my car. I was going to save it for John and me later, but hell, I think we need it now." She went out the back door with a quick step and returned rapidly. "Okay, ladies."

"At least you have Absolut this time," my mother muttered. I'd made sure I'd had plenty of her favorite vodka on hand; she hates tequila.

"I can whip together some maggies," I offered.

"Fuck that," Juliet decided. "We need shots, ladies." She opened the cupboards and began rifling through them. "Ally, where are your shot glasses?"

"Top shelf." She was tall enough to be able to reach them and brought down an armload.

"Jesus, Ally, everywhere you go, do you make it a point to get the cheesiest shot glasses you can find?" she marveled at my collection with a combination of amusement and disdain.

"I do, thank you very much."

"I've got Epcot Center," Dana announced.

"This one's from Carmel by the Sea," Jo announced. "It's so gorgeous there." Her expression indicated that she did not extend that opinion to the shot glass.

Juliet poured everyone a shot, except for Miranda and Shelby, who were still underage, I reminded them as they stared wistfully at us. "Besides," I explained, "this is for medicinal purposes."

"So we don't lose our minds," Joan added.

"Joan doesn't drink," I reminded Juliet.

"Joan will make an exception today," Joan announced quietly.

"You're starting off heavy duty, lady," Juliet eyed her quizzically. "You want a beer or something lighter?"

"I haven't had a drink since I was 22," Joan shrugged. "I'll make up for lost time."

"So what should we drink to?" Jo asked.

"Naked men," Ellen replied rapidly.

"Oh, please, that's how we got here in the first place," groaned Dana. Then she gave a small smile.

"Okay, naked men it is." We all toasted and drank up. Poor Joan almost choked.

"You really have to work up to this," Juliet said gently. "Ally, it's margarita time. Where's the mixer and the limes?"

"Same place they were the last time you were here," I called to her. "And double strength would be good."

"Hey, I wasn't going for anything less," Juliet laughed.
 

Jo went and managed to scrounge up some Rit dye, and she filled the bathtub with what looked like purple soup.

"It's called Indigo Night, but as far as I'm concerned, it's purple," she stated as she dipped the dresses into the mix. "We'll just let those sit for a while." She tossed back an entire margarita in two gulps as she did it.

The alcohol loosened tongues and attitudes, and the rest of the afternoon passed in a pleasant mix of fun and friendship and love. Poor Joan was so looped after half a drink, it was humorous.

"It's 5. We should start heading for Baltimore," Dana announced.

"Oh, yeah, we gotta be at the rehearsal. Dave'll wonder where we went," Ellen mused as she downed about her fifth drink.

"We'll finish the pitcher and head out," Juliet decided. "Is this come as you are? I hope. Because we don't have time to get dressed up."

"Hey, it's Frohike's party," I announced.

"Enough said," Dana concluded, and we finished drinking. "Where are the men?"

"I told 'em to come back when it was time to go to the rehearsal," I said.

"Well, they're not here, and we've gotta hit it," Ellen stated. "I've got all my gear in the trunk. We're staying over at the Westin. Everybody else staying over?"

"Yeah, we are. Shit, that reminds me, I hoped Langly packed his stuff."

"Anybody sober enough to drive?" Joan asked nervously.

"Get serious," my mother barked. "I planned to be perfectly drunk this evening, and I assumed everyone else will be. Limo should be here in a few minutes."

"Grandma! You got a limo?" Miranda's eyes grew wide.

"Hey, I've got the money. And I intend to spend as much of it as possible before I pass on into the next world." Buzzed as I was, hearing her talk this way made me feel more sober than I would have liked.

I just hoped this wasn't her last hurrah.
 

Driving to Baltimore in a limo was a trip. My mother, true to form, had ordered a well-stocked bar for the journey, and we truly partied all the way there. Oddly enough, though, on the drive up, my mother seemed quiet, distant. Not like her at all.

"You all right?" I asked her.

"Fine," she responded, staring out the window. "Allison...I have to tell you, I'm not crazy about this whole thing."

"I didn't expect you to be," I said simply.

"I don't understand the choices you've made. To me, they seem strange."

"Some of them have been strange," I admitted. "I don't even understand some of 'em myself."

"But at least you know how to be happy," she sighed. "That's more than some of your brothers have figured out." She looked pensive.

"I am happy, Mother."

"I can tell. I know how much you loved Eric."

"I did, Mother. I still do."

"But this one...I don't know, Allison. He's a different kind of cat. And no, I'm not happy that he's not Jewish, and that he's so much younger than you, and I think his hair is still too long, but even so..."

"Even so, what?" I was getting annoyed now.

"He's good to you and Miranda. That's really all that counts, isn't it?"

"Well, I've noticed that he does make you laugh."

"And that's his saving grace with me." She smiled. "I know you love him, but my granddaughter loves him, too. To me, that speaks volumes." She took another shot of Absolut. "Go and be happy, Allison. You've been twice blessed. Remember that."

"Thank you for paying for this...extravaganza," I said softly.

She shrugged. "Hey, I owed my friends a party. It was the perfect opportunity."
 

"Well, nice of you ladies to make it on time," Dave Sternberg greeted us as we pulled up. It appeared that he himself had just arrived. "Where's the rest of the bunch?"

"They should be coming," Ellen assured her husband, leaning over to kiss him. "Hey, Eleanor! Mind if I grab a brew for Dave?"

"I paid for it already, go ahead," my mother answered. She still seemed unusually introspective, not a trait I normally associate with my mother.

"Is your mother all right?" Joan leaned over and whispered to me. "She seems a little down."

"I think she's okay. She is pretty quiet, for Eleanor," I granted. "My little brother says she's been sick on and off."

"Well, let's go and see what we have to work with," Dave announced as he popped the top from his beer. "This is great. Normally I have to wait to get to the rehearsal dinner to have a cold one."

We all walked into the area that had been designated as ours for tomorrow. I had a huge buzz on, but almost fainted when I saw the size of the place.

"This has to hold 500 people," I gasped.

"572," Miranda corrected.

"That aisle's a mile long!"

"You'll be walking with Frohike. Don't worry," Jo tapped my arm, trying to be reassuring.

"Where is Frohike? And Langly? And the rest of the whole useless-ass bunch?" I demanded.

"They're supposed to be here," Miranda looked upset.

"Thought they were gonna get their tuxes and then come back," Shelby looked puzzled.

"Allison, do you have your cell with you?" Dana signed to me. I signed in the affirmative.

"Dial 301-748-6190."

I did as instructed, having no other options at the moment, and was greeted
by a loud, familiar voice.

"Mitch!"

"Mitch, it's Ally Gerstein, soon to be Langly, if my fiance ever makes it here. You haven't seen him, have you?"

"Sure have. I'm looking at the whole table of fuckrags right now. Hey Langly!" I heard his voice boom across the room. "Don't you gotta be somewhere? The wife's looking for you!"

A long pause, and a few more shouts from Mitch, and Langly came on.

"Ally? Something wrong?"

"Langly, do you know what time it is?"

"Uh-let me check, says 6:47."

"Langly, we were supposed to start rehearsing at 6:30!"

"Oh, shit! Sorry! Game went into extra innings!" He shouted across the room. "Hey! We gotta bail!"

"We don't have to be there until 6:30," I thought I heard Frohike yell back to him.

"It's after 6:30, dude! We're dead men if we don't get the fuck outta here NOW!"

"But the score's still tied!" I heard Mulder shout.

"Langly," I hissed into the phone, "tell Mulder that I don't give a fuck if the score stays tied all night!"

Mitch picked up the phone again. "I'm chasing the whole bunch of useless fuckrags outta here right now. You ready for tomorrow, honey?"

"I don't know, Mitch. I said last week that if I got married and nobody got killed, it'd be a perfect day."

"That's reasonable," he agreed.

"Yeah, but I've modified it. If I get married, I don't care who the fuck gets killed at this point."

I heard him laugh uproariously, and he clicked off.

END OF PART 82