SUNDAY, September 26, 2004

THE CRAZY DAY BEGINS

I awoke with a start at 6 am.  It was Sunday, September 26, 2004,  Wedding Day!  I leapt out of bed and resumed packing for the cruise.  I separated my luggage into two categories: Carry-on and Check-in.  Marla had carefully explained that whatever I needed to wear for our 1 pm wedding should go into the Carry-On luggage.  My other suitcase... jeans, shirts, etc., would be taken outside the terminal by a porter and brought to our room later in the day.

I stared at the two sets of luggage for a while.  What have I forgotten?   My tuxedo is in the carry-on.  My tuxedo shirt is in the carry-on. I knew I was missing something.  Ah, tie, studs and cummerbund.  I ran to my check-in suitcase, pulled out the box and transferred it to my carry-on.  Something still nagged at me, but I was running out of time.  So I turned my attention to other details.  Modify the air-conditioner, remind my neighbor about food and water for the dogs, suspend the newspaper delivery, set the email auto-responder, etc, etc.  Everything is good.  I am set to go.

Today was different in one key regard.  Normally on a cruise it is just me and Marla.  Not today.  I had eleven other people to worry about.  In addition to my daughter Sam, 13, I had my mother Mary and my beloved Aunt Lynn.  Then there was Marla’s side of the family.  That included her daughter Marissa, 22,  Marla’s brother Larry and his wife Roz, their daughter Shira, plus Marla’s brother Neil and his wife Ellen.  Some of them were here in my house, some of them were at a nearby hotel.  It was my duty to check on all 11 people and make sure they had everything they needed.  

Aunt Lynn came first.  Lynn had flown in from McLean, Virginia, the day before.  I was so happy to see her!   I loved Aunt Lynn from the bottom of my heart.  During the years I went to college in Baltimore, Lynn singlehandedly pulled me through some very troubled times.  In the process Lynn became my best friend forever.  I was about to give Lynn a big good morning hug, but something in her expression gave me concern.  Lynn pulled me aside.

"Rick, I am so worried!  I can’t find my passport or any of my cruise documents!  I have looked everywhere three times!"  

Uh oh.  Lynn's documents were currently sitting a thousand miles away in a small carry-on on her bed.  This could be disastrous.  We had just observed the third anniversary of 9-11 two weeks ago.  With the war in Iraq being waging at this very moment, Homeland security was as tight as possible.  The cruise line said in no uncertain terms you had to have your documents or stay home.  If the officials took a hard line, we were out of luck.  Lynn was so discouraged and apologetic. 

"Don't worry about me, Rick.  Why don't you all go down to Galveston without me?  This is not the end of the world.  I will just call a cab and head back to the Houston airport."

"Don't be ridiculous.  You are coming with us.  We are going to gamble that they will listen to reason."

"But what if they say no?  Then what do I do?"

Lynn was skeptical, but finally relented.  I gulped.  I had no idea what would happen.  There was literally NOTHING I could do about this problem but plead Lynn's case to the authorities and pray.  It was parachute time.  Jump and hope the chute opens.  In the meantime, the one thing I could NOT do was tell Marla.  Lynn and I agreed on that.  Marla was a nervous wreck as it was.  The knowledge of Lynn's plight would put her over the edge.

As it turned out, everyone had a million questions.  My mind was whizzing every which way trying to solve minor problems.  Meanwhile I was deeply worried about Lynn and her missing documents.  If Lynn was refused entry to the ship, I had only one option.  Several friends were driving down from Houston to be at our wedding, then planned to drive back after the ceremony.  If worse came to worse, I guess Lynn would have to sit in the cruise terminal for three hours till our service was completed.  Afterwards, one of my friends could drive her back to the Houston airport.  I shuddered at the thought.

Time to check on Marla.  As feared, she was a nut case.  Marla was out of her mind with anxiety.  Marla is a worrier by nature, but today she could barely see straight.  When I asked why she was so upset, Marla reported a dire premonition. 

"Counting you and me, there are 16 people in our wedding party.  With so many people, there were just too many things that could go wrong."

Thinking of Aunt Lynn, I did not dare tell her what I knew.  However, I muttered to myself, "The woman is a witch.  How does she know?" 

Ding Dong.  The doorbell rang, so Sam ran to get it.  It was Gary Richardson, his lovely wife Betty, plus George Grega, a mutual friend of Gary's and mine.  George was nice enough to loan us his truck to carry our extra luggage plus that of our daughters and relatives to the ship. 

Ding Dong.  This time it was Mara, Marla’s best friend with the exasperating near-identical name.  I lived in constant fear that I would say 'Mara' instead of 'Marla' at some key moment and be doomed to hear about my mistake for eternity.  Mara would be a key player in the day’s coming drama.  She would do her best trying to calm the frantic woman down.  Without Mara, I believe the Marla would have required a padded room given the coming crisis.

Ding Dong.  It was Marla’s brother Neil and his wife Ellen who had been staying at a nearby hotel.  They had arrived to join the caravan.

Ding Dong.  This time it was George Sargent, a friend I had made during the 2004 Mardi Gras Cruise Trip.  George was here to lend support and give a ride to Lynn and my mother Mary.  Passport or no passport, the gang is here.   Marla's superstition be damned, it was time to get the show on the road.

THE DRIVE TO GALVESTON

We were 30 minutes behind schedule as we drove to Galveston.  However, in the car Marla explained she had deliberately set an earlier time than necessary.  Smart move.  This allowed us to arrive exactly in Galveston at 10:30 am as planned.  We had an impressive caravan of five cars. Marla and I were in the lead car.  We were by ourselves with some of the luggage.  Marissa used her car to take Sam and Shira.  Neil and Ellen took Larry and Roz with them in a rental car. George Sargent took Mara, Mary and Lynn with him.  George Grega took Betty and Gary with him.  Our group of 16 would be joined by 14 other friends driving down from Houston to reach our wedding total of 30.

Marla's fears had not subsided.  She was worried sick something would go wrong.  Over and over she wailed, "What did I forget?  What am I missing?  We're going to be late!" 

As I sat there nursing the secret about Lynn's missing passport, I wasn't feeling too hot myself.  Was I doing the right thing withholding the truth?  I didn't see what good it would do to tell her now, so I remained mum as I meditated on the accuracy of bad omens. 

It took us 45 minutes to get to Galveston.  We crossed the famous bridge to the island right on time at 10:30 am feeling pretty good about being on time.  However, that is when we discovered a huge problem we had not anticipated.  When we got to the terminal, there was a long line of backed-up traffic.  The Rhapsody was in plain view within walking distance, but good did that do us?  There were so many cars with people arriving early that it took an extra 30 minutes to drive the last half-mile.  Marla went through the roof.  Given the horrendous traffic, something was terribly wrong with the overall system.  As we sat there fuming, I quietly thanked Marla's wisdom for secretly starting our trip an hour early. 

So what was the problem?  No one had anticipated just how successful the cruise experiment would turn out in Galveston.  There was only one way in and one way out.  Not a problem for just one cruise ship, but there were two massive cruise ships side by side.  I wished we had known ahead of time, but Royal Caribbean shared the pier with Carnival and Carnival's ship came first.  There were people trying to depart Rhapsody and Carnival at the same time and there were people like us trying to board Rhapsody and Carnival at the same time.  Since no one had the foresight to add a bypass, 16 people in 5 vehicles were forced to inch our way past Carnival traffic in order to drop off our huge quantity of luggage.  Even though Rhapsody was at most 800 yards away, we sat there stuck behind an endless line of unmoving cars trying to get to Carnival.  The Galveston police made it harder for us by giving priority to Carnival "departure" cars coming from the nearby parking lot.  Let me explain.  For a Carnival passenger to leave the ship, they needed to go to a parking lot first to get their car.  Dozens of cars cut in front of us as we helplessly waited for the uncaring security guard to let us through.  Feeling trapped, Marla began screaming with frustration.  She kept reminding me that if we had 30 minutes earlier like we were supposed, we could have avoided this mess entirely.  Ordinarily I was six feet tall, but thanks to worries over Lynn's passport issue, our delay leaving home and now this traffic issue, I was reduced to three feet.  Sitting there cringing before Marla's wrath, I honestly believe Marla would have murdered me if I had brought up Lynn's problem.  Fearing for my life, I said nothing.  Truth be told, I was just as worried as she was.  We did not have a lot of time to spare.  Plus I expected Lynn's passport snafu would delay things further.  My stomach was tied in knots.

MADNESS IN THE CRUISE TERMINAL

We finally made it to the Rhapsody terminal, but we were running 45 minutes behind schedule.  After dropping off our luggage and parking the car in the nearby lot, I saw how slow the shuttle buses were.  To save time, I skipped waiting for the next bus and ran the mile back to the ship instead.  That was a good move.  I saved at least 15 minutes.  I was pleased to see our friends waiting for me, but the scene in the terminal was a madhouse.   Unaware of the looming dilemma, everyone was beaming with big smiles and hugs.  Bathed in their encouragement, for a brief moment I entertained the thought that maybe this would work out okay after all.  No such luck.  My brief moment of bliss evaporated when I was confronted with yet another inscrutable problem.

I went into shock when the lady in charge of supervising the wedding announced my daughter Samantha would not be allowed to enter the ship.  My jaw dropped open with incredulity.  Good grief, we had not even gotten to Lynn yet and now this.  What is the problem?  Sheila informed me she needed a birth certificate.   Marla nearly passed out on the spot.  How could I forget to bring Sam's birth certificate? 

Marla and I immediately pointed fingers at each other.  "Rick, I cannot believe you forgot the document!"  "You never told me I needed it!"  "Did too!"  "Did not!"  "How could forget something so important?"  "Why didn't you remind me this morning?"  

Meanwhile my daughter was crying enough tears to fill a bathtub as our guests stared in horror.  So what was this all about?  There were two kinds of people getting on the ship today.  There were 2,000 passengers book on the upcoming cruise that would depart around 4 pm.  And then there was our group of 30 wedding guests.  10 would remain on the ship for the upcoming 7-day honeymoon cruise while the other 20 would return to Houston around 3 pm following the reception.  Due to 9/11 regulations, the ship was forced to do an identity check for the 20 people boarding the ship strictly for the two-hour wedding ceremony.  That included my daughter Sam.  Too young to carry a driver's license, they required her birth certificate instead.

As Marla and I stared in shock, some wag suggested Al Quaeda had discovered shipboard wedding receptions are an excellent way to smuggle Arabs aboard.  Not funny.  I immediately protested.  "My daughter has to pass through metal detectors just like everyone else.  There is no way she could pose a threat to ship security."

"We're sorry, sir, but rules are rules.  I would lose my job if I were to let her on."

Unbelievable.  If I could not get Sam on board, then Aunt Lynn did not stand a chance. 

"But I have 30 people willing to vouch for her identity!!"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Archer, I cannot accept that as proof.  However, do you have a picture of your daughter in your wallet?"

"No, but there are pictures of us together on the Internet."

"Oh no, I'm sorry, but that won't work.  The pictures on the Internet might be a fake!"

"What difference does that make?  I could also have a fake picture of her in my wallet!"

The coordinator did not like that answer.  "Surely," Sheila said, "You must have some sort of proof that she is your daughter."

I had several choice things to say, but decided to hold my tongue.  Very unlike me.

"Listen," I repeated, "I have 30 people with me who can attest that this is my daughter."

"We're sorry, sir, but we are not allowed to take people's word.  We need documentation.  Does your daughter by chance have a student ID?"

I was about to say something curt, but paused while Sam began to frantically search through her purse.  Out came the lipstick.  Out came the comb.  Out came the hair pins.  Aha!  Magically, Sam produced her SSQQ Dance Studio ID card.  Nope, not good enough, the official said, it does not have her picture. 

"Yes," I replied, "but it has her name!"

To my astonishment, that worked.  Okay.  Proof enough.  She can go in.  I stood there stupefied as the absurdity of the moment crossed my mind.  Her father's word was not good enough.  30 American citizens as witnesses was not good enough.  However, a dance studio ID card with the girl's name on it was acceptable.  Unbelievable.  Gee, I hope Al Quaeda never learns about this trick.  I could see Al Quaeda operatives lining up to apply for jobs as SSQQ dance teachers.  We could have an entire sleeper cell at the studio before we know it.

Truth be told, I always knew Samantha would eventually be allowed on.  Don't ask me how I knew; I just did.  I never once took these people seriously.  They were just protesting enough to keep their job.  It helped, of course, that Sam had tears streaming down her face.  Truly dangerous people should learn this secret.  Tears work every time.  Still, I was glad they limited their song and dance to a five minute argument. 

My drifted back to Lynn and her missing passport.  I was really worried.  Compounding my fear was the fact that Lynn had not even appeared yet!   Lynn and my mother had driven down to Galveston with George Sargent.  George did not have a cell phone.  We had been in the terminal for 25 minutes.  My group was being asked to board the ship, but there was still no sign of them.   So where are they?  How was I supposed to get on the ship knowing that Aunt Lynn didn't have her passport??  I absolutely would not board the ship until I took care of Lynn. 

Actually this was a blessing in disguise because it gave me a reason to tell Marla to go ahead.  There was a better than even chance Marla would pass out or blow a fuse if she had to witness the upcoming passport ordeal.  Better to spare her this added worry.  Besides, Marla needed every spare moment to get her hair and makeup done by a professional who worked on the ship.  Mara went with her.  She would get her hair done too, then help Marla put her wedding dress on.

Finally George, Mary and Lynn showed up.  Apparently I had saved a lot of time by running back to the terminal.  With two elderly ladies and a ton of luggage, George did not have that option.  His only choice was to wait for a shuttle bus.  I held my breath as Lynn went to check in.  The poor woman was white as a ghost.  Sure enough, the customs and immigration agent immediately told her there was NO WAY she could get on that ship without her passport.  Her Virginia driver's license had her picture on it.  Nope.  Nice try, but not good enough.  Her social security card was another nice feature, but without a picture, not good enough.  Hmm.  I should have given her an SSQQ ID Card back at home.  Wish I had thought of that.  It was one thing to bend the rules so a 13-year old girl could remain on the ship for three hours (Sam was in school which prevented her from going with us on the 7-day cruise).  But it was a completely different matter to a let a dangerous 75 year old woman on the ship for a week.  So what if Lynn could pass a metal detector and luggage search?  It did not matter.  These people were hired to say no and that is what they insisted on doing.

Despite my frustration, I said nothing.  Tom Easley and Mike Fagan, my groomsmen, were standing beside me for support.  I asked Tom at what point should I turn off the nice guy act and revert to the beast within.  Tom replied, "Not yet.  Put a hold on the Hulk and let your aunt handle it."  

So I behaved.  My heart ached for Lynn.  She was so frustrated at losing that passport!  Prone to an over-active guilty conscience as it was, Lynn had despair all over her face.  Now the tears began to flow.  Although I felt sorry for Lynn's ordeal, I was secretly glad.  Crying had worked well for Sam.  

I was exasperated.  What is their problem?  They were dealing with a grandmother many times over.  Given that Lynn was attractive, well-dressed, very warm and very outgoing, she did not present a  threatening demeanor.

Not only that, Lynn had a valid Virginia driver's license with her picture on it, she had a social security card, Medicare card, plus a ton of credit cards.  In addition, Lynn had completed the ship's online security check long ago.  Nevertheless, they were sticking to their guns.  Biting my nails as the minutes rolled by, I honestly did not know what the outcome would be. 

Based on prior experience, I knew these people could be tough.  One year ago, a lovely Chinese woman named Beryl had been denied entry at the terminal due to expired paperwork.  She had signed up for our Jubilee Cruise and had driven all the way to Galveston only to be turned away despite my protest.  Beryl had gambled her new paperwork would arrive in time.  When that failed, she hoped her old paperwork would work.  Nope, not good enough.  Meanwhile her boyfriend stood by helplessly.  I felt horrible watching the two of them deal with this.  Beryl insisted that her boyfriend go anyway.  He faced a dilemma because he had other friends on board.  What to do?  After much agonizing, he handed Beryl the keys and decided to go on the trip.  Poor Beryl was left standing alone in the terminal as her friends abandoned her.  I will never forget watching Beryl wave goodbye with tears streaming down her face.  It was heart-rending to see.  And so unnecessary.

With the sad memory of Beryl in mind, it was quite possible this would be Lynn's fate as well.  A happy outcome was by no means guaranteed.  In fact, it wasn't looking good.  The customs man and his mean-faced silent crony refused to bend.  He stuck to his guns firmly.  "I'm sorry, ma'am, but you cannot board.  These are Homeland Security rules."  

Hearing that, my friend Margaux Mann stepped forward to lend her impressive persuasive powers. If anyone could change the man's mind, Margaux could.  Meanwhile I considered bringing the entire wedding party over, 28 in all minus Mara and Marla.  I figured each person could take turns arguing until we wore the guy down.  I was just about to do that when without warning the man suddenly announced Lynn was free to join us.  No explanation was given.  Was it something Margaux said?  I will never know, but maybe.  The important thing is that for some magic reason Lynn had just received permission to come aboard and take her cruise. 

This was so wonderful that I was relieved beyond words.  However, the abrupt change really bothered me.  These officials had been adamant for over 15 minutes there was NO WAY THEY WOULD EVER NEVER EVER BEND THE RULES.  YOU MUST HAVE A PASSPORT!!  Had this ordeal been a charade?  Why all the 'A Rule is a Rule' tough talk??  Now by some miracle Lynn was free to board.  What made these coldhearted men change their mind? 

My brow furrowed.  It was as if someone had a 15 minute stop watch.  They would vehemently harass the woman for 15 minutes as punishment.  After making her as miserable as humanly possible, when time was up, she was free to go.  This entire affair had left me deeply suspicious.  In Hindsight, perhaps they secretly confirmed with Homeland Security that Lynn had a valid passport, just not with her at the moment.  After all, her driver's license confirmed her identity.  However, I will never know.  I accepted the good news and kept my mouth shut.  But I was shaken, very shaken.  For a moment there Mike and Tom each grabbed an arm to steady me.  First the traffic delay.  Then Marla's near-nuclear meltdown.  Then Sam's problem.  Now Lynn's problem.  Deeply shaken by the rough start to the day, I tried to relax.  Theoretically the coast was clear, but in reality the worst was yet to come.  You don't believe me, do you?  Read on.

RICK FORGETS SOMETHING

Marla had gone ahead of me to get her hair fixed while I stayed behind to take care of Lynn.  Now that Lynn was clear, the wedding party was ready to board as a group.  I don't know how else to explain my next lapse other than to say I brought all sorts of things with me.  For example, I brought a giant boom box for our dance lessons and our private parties.  I brought a portable puzzle board for jigsaw puzzles.  Here at check-in, I was responsible my luggage, Marla's luggage, Lynn's luggage, and Mary's luggage.  Feeling overwhelmed, Tom and Mike were kind enough to help me check eight pieces of luggage through security, then carry it to my room. 

As I began to get dressed, I realized my tuxedo was missing.  Unbelievable.  I was so rattled by the events of the day that I had left it back in the Registration area.  Or did I leave it back in Houston?  If so, shoot me now.  More likely I left it in the terminal.  If so, how hard would it be to find?  I doubted seriously anyone would steal it, but the suit bag could easily have been moved elsewhere.  Worried sick, I scrambled back to the terminal.  Not so fast.  I was stopped at the ship's entrance by another rule.  Once aboard, I was not allowed to leave unless I was leaving for good.  Here we go again.  It really was that kind of a day.  Fortunately I kept my cool and they relented by sending a staff member to accompany me.  Imagine my sigh of relief when I saw my suit bag hanging right where I left it.  Twenty minutes down the drain, but it could have been much worse.

The events of the morning had left me totally drained.  I had not anticipated how complicated this was going to be.  I needed a nap in the worst way, but that was out of the question.  As I was getting dressed, Mara knocked on the door.  Mara was going to help Marla get dressed, but Marla was not quite finished getting her hair ready, so Mara needed a place to sit.  I was glad for the company.  Tom and Mike were off somewhere chatting with their wives.  Not only did Mara help me calm down, she assisted in putting on my tie.  Okay, I'm ready!  I took one look in the mirror.  Perfect!  Or maybe not.

"Uh, Rick," Mara said, "Aren't you forgetting something?"

"Now what?" I said defensively.

"Your shoes."

I looked down.  Oh no, Mara was right.  I had worn basketball shoes during the check-in process.  All I had on were my white socks.   Hmm.  Which bag did I put my dress shoes in??  I frantically searched carry-on bags, but did not find my formal shoes.  Oh no.  I had forgotten to pack my shoes!  Then I calmed down.  Actually I did pack my shoes, but stored them in the wrong suitcase.  I assumed my shoes were in the suitcase that was currently sitting in a giant storage area with 2,000 other suitcases ready to be delivered in the afternoon.  It was 12:45.  The wedding was at 1 pm.  What was I going to do?  I could search the entire area for my luggage, but I would never find it in time.  Now what do I do? 

Mara suggested I call the desk.  No luck. The largest shoe they had to offer was two and a half sizes too small.  What was my next option?  I had an inspiration.  How about my friend Paul Foltyn?  At 6' 4", Paul was 3 inches taller.  Although we were running out of time, I had one major advantage.  They probably wouldn't start without me.  With time running out, I went upstairs to the Wedding area in search of Paul.  After saying a brief hello to the seated guests, I went over to Paul and explained the problem.  Bless his heart, Paul did not hesitate to share his shoes with me. 

"Uh, Paul," I said, "Can I borrow your black socks as well?" 

His shoes were too big for me, but I could tighten them.  However, Paul could not put on my basketball shoes.  Too small.  Uh oh.  Good grief, Paul would have to spend the entire the afternoon walking around in my white socks. 

Paul was my hero!!  Paul had saved the day.   However, there was a price to pay.  Mind you, the wedding party had witnessed this farce with great amusement.  My obvious frustration afforded everyone some much-needed comic relief.  After all the headaches with morning traffic plus Sam and Lynn's boarding problems, we were all pretty tense.  On cue, the whole group burst out in laughter.  These people thoroughly enjoyed my discomfort, so I did my best to smile and be a good sport.  Unfortunately, the teasing did not stop there.  For the rest of the week, every day I heard a new variation on the socks and shoes story.  If you believed everything you heard, I wore Paul's shoes, socks, belt, shirt, coat, tie and pants to the wedding. 

GARY FORGETS SOMETHING

Paul's shoes were much too loose.  How was I supposed to do my Wedding Dance?  I took the shoes back to my cabin and adjusted the laces to make the shoes tighter.  Problem solved.  I was in a good mood when I rejoined the guests upstairs.  It was 1:05 pm.  That meant I was only five minutes late.  Unfortunately, my good mood did not last long.  As I greeted the various guests and thanked them for coming, Gary Richardson walked up with a worried look on his face.  Now what?  Gary pulled me aside.  He didn't have the music for the wedding reception.  My eyes bulged!!  No music?   Where is your computer with all the necessary songs? 

Gary had his computer, but he was missing the speaker that went with it.  Gary had made the same mistake as me.  He had brought more than a dozen pieces of luggage in George Grega's truck.  The porter assigned at the terminal had been very aggressive.  The man kept yelling, "Carry-On or Check-In?  Can we hurry this along?" with each piece.  When the man got to the music speaker, Gary could only think of using it for the dance classes.  He completely forgot he was also going to use it for the wedding reception. 

In other words, his speaker was somewhere in the giant storage area keeping my black shoes company.  This meant the entire hour of music we had planned to use for our Reception was down the drain.  This also meant my wedding waltz with Marla was doomed.  We had been practicing for months!  Well aware how much Marla would be disappointed, fortunately I remembered I had a backup CD with our wedding music located in my carry-on bag.  

Hearing this, Sheila, the Rhapsody wedding coordinator, said she had a boom box we could use with the CD.  So I trekked back to the room to retrieve our wedding music.  Now that this problem was solved, we were ready.  I had black shoes, I had our Waltz music, Sheila loaned us her boom box.  It was time to get married!

Returning to the wedding party for the THIRD TIME that morning, I noticed we now running 20 minutes late.  Oh well, close enough.  I smiled.  I had fallen in love with Marla three years ago.  Although I had felt married to her in spirit ever since, I was glad to demonstrate my commitment with this formal ceremony.  Marla was ready, I was ready, the minister was ready as well.

Once I handed the music CD to the Rhapsody coordinator , Sheila was ready to play the music and let the ceremony begin.  However, before she hit the play button, Sheila hesitated to ask a question.

"Mr. Archer, would you like to escort your mother and aunt into the wedding ceremony?

"Yes, actually I would.  Thank you, Sheila." 

Only one problem.  When I peeked, Mary and Lynn were nowhere to be seen.

LYNN AND MARY ARE MISSING

Let me set the scene.  Marla's daughter Marissa was Maid of Honor, Sam was a Bridesmaid.  Mara was Marla's close friend.  The four ladies were hidden out of sight in a room backstage to the Wedding and seating area.  Tom, Mike and I were also hidden.  We were situated a mere 10 feet away from the seating area.  However, due to a wall that separated us from 23 friends and relatives, no one knew we standing there.

When prompted to escort Mary and Lynn, I kicked myself for overlooking this important detail.  Standing behind the wall, I peeked around the corner to look at my guests.  To my dismay, I did not see Mary.  Then I noticed Aunt Lynn was missing as well.  I completely lost it.  Fuming with anger, I was so furious I wanted to scream bloody murder.  Thank goodness I did not say what I wanted to say out loud.  

As for our wedding coordinator, Sheila had no idea what I was upset about.  In Hindsight, it would have helped considerably if I had explained that my mother and aunt were missing.  However, with my blood pressure rising to record heights, I was devoid of common sense.  Panic-stricken, I never said a word to Sheila.  Instead I ordered Tom and Mike to follow me.  Racing down the hall towards the staircase, I told them what was wrong.  "I can't believe this, but my mother and Aunt Lynn are missing.  We need to find them." 

How was it possible for both women to be late to my wedding!?!? 

Due to my negligence, no one, Marla included, had the slightest idea what the hold-up was.  Since my unpleasant discovery had taken place out of sight behind a wall, no one knew I had been standing ten feet away when I discovered the two ladies were missing.  Somewhere around the 10-15 minute mark, someone decided to ask the coordinator if she knew what was causing the delay. 

Sheila shrugged.  "Beats the heck out of me.  Just when we were ready to get started, the groom suddenly lost his temper and ran off with his two best men chasing him.  I don't know where they went."

When someone suggested I had gotten cold feet, people gasped.  OH NO!  RICK CHANGED HIS MIND!!  POOR MARLA!  Don't blame Sheila.  This was my fault, not hers.  Sheila had no idea the problem was related to my missing aunt and mother.  

WHERE ARE LYNN AND MARY?

Tom and Mike were on my heels as we circled Deck 8.  I was full of disbelief.  This cannot be happening!!  Here was my problem.  I knew my mother's cabin was on the eighth floor.  However, I did not know their room number.  Deck 8 was completely deserted because the regular cruise guests had not been allowed to enter their cabins yet.  They were all waiting in other parts of the ship such as the dining room and lounge areas.  Since it was just the three of us, I began to holler at the top of my voice "Mom!  Lynn!  Where are you?" 

I cannot imagine what Tom and Mike thought as I bellowed my head off.  I am sure I looked ridiculous playing Blind Man's Bluff.  Fortunately said nothing as they loyally tagged along.  To my dismay there was no answer as I passed the long series of closed doors.  Once I circled the entire Deck 8 in vain, my frustration was over the top.  Another ten minutes had been wasted as I ran around like a chicken with its head cut off.  Seeing I was out of control, Mike and Tom suggested I go to the Purser's desk on Deck 5 and have the women paged.  Good idea!  We raced down three floors to ask for help.

As the lady at the desk looked up their names, Mike suggested this was an elaborate practical joke of some sort.  "No way," I said.  "People enjoy giving me a hard time, but no one would dream of being disrespectful to Marla."  Why do things like this happen to me?  This scenario had such an unreal feel about it, I began to wonder if I was being set up.  Sometimes I think the Universe has a twisted sense of humor. 

The lady called my mother's room, then handed me the phone.  To my shock, Aunt Lynn answered on the first ring!! 

"Rick, what's wrong?  You sound upset."

I was relieved and exasperated at the same time.  I breathlessly whispered, "Lynn, are you and my mother ready?  It's time for me to get married!"

Lynn answered, "Yes, of course. The ceremony is at 1 pm, right?"

I blinked.  Huh?  "Yes, Lynn, the ceremony is at 1 pm."

"Don't worry.  We'll be ready.  We still have 20 minutes." 

20 minutes?  What is Lynn talking about?  Lynn was so calm I thought I was in the Twilight Zone.  I looked at a nearby clock.  The time was 1:40 pm. 

"Lynn, you're wrong, the time is almost 2 pm.  I'm already 40 minutes late for my wedding!  You have to hurry."

There was a gasp on the line.  Then silence.  In a barely audible whisper, Lynn said, "Come get us in Cabin 832.  We will be ready."

First I sent Tom and Mike on ahead to explain the delay.  Then I went to fetch Lynn and Mary.  When I got to their room, to my surprise I discovered this was not my mother's fault.  Lynn had set her alarm clock wrong when they decided to take a nap.  Secretly I was glad it was Lynn and not my mother.  I could forgive Lynn, but not my mother.  What about Marla?  Marla was going to kill me for this and no jury would convict.  Justifiable homicide.