the women wore huge gowns filling the space of each truck bed with a wash of pink, purple, and green. The jewels they wore in their hair and the sequins coating their dresses glittered in the dying sunlight. Young men gathered around the edges to get a better view, some standing, some pulling up chairs and settling in for the show.
I stayed in my seat but craned my neck, trying to see beyond the fence of onlookers. The young women on display were almost unrecognizable and not only because unmarried men and women rarely spent time together outside of formal occasions. Each one was so heavily made-up that she resembled a porcelain doll more than an actual human girl. They all beamed, clearly enjoying the attention.
Once the pavilion was surrounded, wedding guests began unloading from their vehicles. The groom and a younger man, who I guessed was his brother given the similarities between them, climbed out of a silver Lexus, grinning in matching designer tuxedos. They made their way across the cement floor of the pavilion to a row of chairs decorated with flowers and ribbons for the wedding party. Next, a stout man with a shock of white hair stepped from a black Cadillac. Pop Sheedy stooped for a moment to help his wife out of the car and then rested both hands on his burgeoning belly, offering his elbow to Bridget. The groom’s father was next. Rail-thin and well over six feet tall, he ducked his head to clear the doorframe of his own black Cadillac. Apparently, he had no wife to help from the car and so crossed quickly to his sons.
Next, the community procession began. Women with new babies to show off came first. Next, some of the older married women, who took this opportunity to show off new jewelry purchases instead of children. Finally, the unmarried girls began climbing down from truck beds, aided by the young men who’d had the privilege of driving them. They walked slowly through the pavilion, circling around the huge floral arrangement in the center of the floor in a loop of brightly colored satin, tulle, and organza.
The last car door opened. Rosie Sheedy, a baby-faced seventeen-year-old girl with black curls teased to a height that defied gravity, took the hand of the young man who’d chauffeured her to the party. A pang of jealousy tightened my stomach as her gloved fingers closed around his, and I was secretly glad that he struggled to get her out of the Lincoln Town Car with any grace. Her hoop skirt crumpled as she squeezed herself through the door, but immediately sprang back to life, forming a three-foot barrier around her legs on all sides. The dress was an irritating shade of teal blue, but I could easily look past her bad taste in clothing given who her family was.
Rosie turned her back to the pavilion and reached inside the car to help her sister make a grand entrance. A head appeared, crowned with a sparkling tiara. Ringlets of dark hair bobbed as both Rosie and the driver pulled the bride’s arms, struggling to free her from the car. For nearly ten minutes, the trio fought with the bride’s enormous dress, shoving sections of it in every direction to manipulate it through the car door. Finally, Mary Sheedy burst from the car like a cork from a champagne bottle. Her sister caught her and set her on her feet again, both girls giggling.
Mary and Rosie Sheedy were Irish twins, only eleven months apart in age, and they were so similar it was sometimes hard to tell them apart from a distance. There was no mistaking which was the bride this day, though. Mary strode to the center of the floor, making a concerted effort not to wobble under the weight of her dress.
I leaned closer to my brother. “If the competition over having the biggest dress doesn’t end soon, these girls are going to have to be wheeled around on carts.”
Jimmy Boy offered a smirk in response.
Mary’s dress was certainly a sight to behold. The skirt was made up of at least a dozen layers of fabric held aloft by a wire hoop skirt, and Mary had to spread her arms to their fullest width to gather the sides in her hands as she walked. Huge stars made of gold and silver sequins trailed their way down the front of her skirt in two lines. The bodice of the dress had genuine pink diamonds sewn along the collar and extending to her waist in a V-shape down the front and back. All the glittering gems, along with a little help from a glass-and-a-half of Guinness, were making my head cloudy. I closed my eyes for a moment, hoping the feeling would pass.
Once Mary had completed her laborious journey across the pavilion, Rosie helped her arrange the dress so she could take a seat on the throne next to her new husband. The dress spilled out over the chair’s sides, and Mary seemed to hover above it rather than sit in it, boosted by the fabric of her gown. Pop Sheedy stood and raised a glass to toast his daughter and new son-in-law. The entire reception rang out in a chorus of well wishes and congratulations. He beamed with pride as he looked down at his bedazzled offspring.
In spite of their garishness, what these celebrations really represented was the deep love Travelers had for their children. Yes, they were a way to display wealth and compete with other families, but the expensive floral arrangements and ridiculous gowns were also honest expressions of affection.
“So now we’ve got a Georgian in our clan,” Jimmy Boy said, though I could barely hear him over the loud music that had just started up. No one was dancing yet, and the scene reminded me of the one middle school dance I’d managed to sneak off to, with young men on one side of the pavilion and girls giggling in small groups on the other.
“Guess so. Pop and Bridget went over for Dandelion McNamara’s funeral last week and arranged the whole thing there. Apparently, this kid has shown a lot of promise or something, so they made him a match for Mary even though he’s only nineteen,” I said. “At least that’s what Bridget told Maggie.”
“I heard they paid his family five hundred large to seal the deal, but you know how numbers have a way of growing when Traveler women get to talking.”
I shrugged, lifting an eyebrow. It was entirely possible that the Sheedys had paid such a substantial sum to make a good match for their daughter, but half a million dollars was a large dowry even by Southern Traveler standards. Still, speculation over the bride-price was as much a tradition at Traveler weddings as the fancy gowns and festive music.
I glanced over at the couple again. A line had formed in front of their table; one person from each family was tasked with presenting a gift to the couple. This was yet another opportunity to show off, but it appeared most people had decided to wait until later in the evening when food and drink might make Pop more open to being impressed by their gifts. I reached under my seat and pulled out a thin package wrapped in simple brown paper. Maggie’s wedding gifts were never as expensive as those presented by other members of the clan, but they were always highly prized. This particular gift even came with instructions. Instructions I wasn’t excited about delivering. I thrust the package at my brother.
“You’re the oldest—you give it to ‘em.”
Jimmy Boy shook his head, pushing it back toward me. “No, thank you. Maggie gave it to you. You can go up there and tell them about the magic feathers.” He stood and excused himself by lifting his empty glasses in explanation.
“Thanks for your help,” I called after him, but if he heard me, he didn’t bother to look back. I growled in annoyance and pushed myself to my feet to join the line.
Although there were only a few people ahead of me, each one took his fair share of time fawning on Pop Sheedy and his family. I bounced on the balls of my feet as I drew closer to Mary and her new husband and wished again that Jimmy Boy had accepted my offer to do the job instead. Although I’d been staring at my feet for most of the wait, when I was next in line to present my gift, my gaze flicked over the wedding party, and I was surprised to find Rosie Sheedy looking at me. Our eyes met, and she immediately dropped her gaze, smiling at her hands.
“Congratulations on your marriage.” I handed the package to Mary but couldn’t keep my eyes from moving back to her sister.
Mary tore the brown paper and peeled it back, revealing two snow-white feathers. She squealed in delight, showing them first to her sister, then to the groom. The groom looked up at me in confusion.
I exhaled through my nose. Here we go. “They’re from a pair of swans,” I said, reciting the speech Maggie had made me memorize. “They mate for life—swans, I mean—so their feathers are supposed to guarantee a long life of love and happiness.” I paused, mentally preparing myself for the next part, which I directed toward Mary. “Maggie says to sew one into your pillow and the other one into your husband’s pillow to…um…” I cleared my throat. “…ensure fidelity.”
I felt my cheeks grow hot but forced myself to keep my expression neutral. The groom smirked and muttered his thanks, but it was Rosie who once again caught my eye. She hid a smile behind her hands and leaned over to whisper something into Mary’s ear. Both girls giggled again, and Rosie winked at me.
I remembered my promise to Jimmy Boy and took a step back, though it was the last thing I wanted to do.
