Steps to the Altar by Earlene Fowler Page B

comfortable spot. I’d sat on concrete curbs that were more forgiving.
    “Muy bien , Benni, muy, muy bien,” Señora Aragon said. “Isn’t she preciosa? Mi bella niña is finally going to be a bride. Thanks to the Virgin.” She crossed herself, her dark eyes welling up with tears.
    “Oh, Mama, don’t start crying again,” Elvia said, swirling around in her dress to pat her mother’s hand. It had a tightly fitted pearl-embroidered bodice, tiny cap sleeves, and billowing layers of netting under the thin chiffon-covered skirt. I wanted to tell her she looked just like a perfect little Latina Barbie doll, except I knew she’d kill me. Emory was going to pass out from joy when he saw her float down the aisle.
    “She’s going to be the most beautiful bride that old Mission has ever seen,” I said, shifting again in my uncomfortable chair.
    “Oh, you two just stop it,” Elvia said, blushing with pleasure. She took her shoulder-length black hair, twisted it, and held it on top of her head. “I’ve decided on wearing my hair up. What do you think?”
    Mama Aragon just wiped away the tears running down her wrinkled brown cheeks and nodded.
    “I think that’s a great idea,” I said for at least the hundredth time. She’d waffled back and forth between wanting her hair upswept or down for the last two months. Like a good matron of honor, I agreed with whatever she said.
    “Okay, Benni, your turn now,” Tia said. She took my gray silk bridesmaid dress out of its off-white garment bag and handed it to me. It was a gorgeous dress, formfitting, but comfortable with a V neckline with just a touch of lace and cap sleeves that matched Elvia’s. She wanted each of us to wear silver jewelry that reflected our tastes and personalities. I was still thinking about what to wear.
    “I forgot my slip and my heels,” I said. When Elvia glared at me, I made a goofy face, trying to make her laugh.
    “No problem,” Tia said, her easygoing smile telling me she’d been through this numerous times. “I have a slip in the dressing room and we keep sample shoes here just for that reason. What size shoe and what heel height?”
    “Six and two,” I said, grateful to the bottom of my boots. I turned back to Elvia. “ Lo siento mucho, mi amiga, but I’ve had a crazy day. I get points for making it here, don’t I?”
    She tried to look mad, but didn’t succeed. She was just too happy. “It’s all right. I know you have a lot going on right now besides my wedding. We’ll have coffee afterward and you can fill me in on Dove’s wedding and everything else that’s been happening. It seems like I’ve been in a fog these last few months.”
    “Wish I could, but I have to pick up my costume for the Mardi Gras ball Saturday night and Cathy closes early tonight.”
    “How are things progressing with the ball? I should have helped you. Is there anything you need done?”
    “Everything’s fine,” I assured her. “You’ve got more important things to worry about. Just show up with Emory and have a good time. And don’t forget your shower this Sunday. Two o’clock at Miss Christine’s.”
    “I won’t forget,” she said, stepping down from the pedestal and waving at me to go try on my dress.
    “Has everyone else been fitted?” I called over to the next dressing room, where she was taking off her dress. Though Elvia had no sisters, only six brothers, she’d ended up having ten bridesmaids, not counting me, because she had so many cousins and sisters-in-law who’d waited for this day.
    “You’re the last,” she called back. “As usual.”
    “Hey, Miss Better-late-than-never. I wouldn’t throw any sharp stones if’n I were you. I’m still two marriages ahead.”
    Her uncustomary giggle caused me to smile at myself in the mirror. This was the happiest I’d ever seen her.
    During my fitting, one of her brothers, Miguel, came by to pick up Señora Aragon. He was younger than us by ten years and had been a San Celina