Mr. storekeeper Rumor's daughter was getting married. In a flash of creativity, Cynthia decided to reveal her engagement to the ladies of the neighborhood by inviting them to tea and having two little kids dressed up like bride and groom to pass among the guests, giving out nosegays of violets in which were hidden, tightly rolled, announcements of the coming marriage.
David Maxwell and I were the only children on the block of the same height, so we were chosen for that reason, and not, as I thought, on the basis of the ice cream business I brought in with Mr. Ridenhauer.
I felt very special dressed in white, with the short net veil held in place with artificial flowers. We performed admirably. Many photos where taken of us. All around us was much talk of weddings with white-gloved giggling.
By the end of the afternoon I was convinced that it was David and I who were married. I felt it my right that after this day's ceremony, all would be different between us. David would come over to play with me instead of standing on the corner all morning waiting on the school kids to come home so he could run off with them.
Though he was two years older than I was, we were the same size. Yet, unfairly I thought, David had a bigger tricycle than I did. Now, I felt I had as much right to ride his as he had. I couldn't understand why he ran and hid when he saw me coming. Why did he call me names when he walked by with one of his school-going friends?
Why was Cynthia having all those parties and acting so happy? Did she know that afterwards it was all the same? After you took off the satin dress there were only photographs, crumpled net and old friends. Why didn't an occasion so special make a difference in all the days that followed it?