Family drama and weddings go hand in hand—but my stepmom, Linda, took it to a whole new level. Known for making every event about herself, she outdid herself by arriving at my wedding in a white lace gown.
I was in the bridal suite when my best friend gasped, “You have to see this.” Peeking out the window, I saw Linda posing for photos in a dress that could’ve been ripped from a bridal magazine. My blood boiled.
I marched outside. “You cannot wear that!” She just smiled. “Oh, sweetie, don’t be dramatic. I’m just celebrating in my own way.”
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Enter Tom, my then-fiancé, with the smoothest save I’ve ever seen. “Linda, you’re right—you look incredible,” he said, laying it on thick. “But let’s make sure there’s no confusion about who the bride is.” Moments later, a “clumsy” waiter “tripped,” dumping red wine down her front.
Linda’s scream was priceless. As she scrambled to clean up, Tom sweetly suggested she change—maybe into something “less bridal.” She missed the ceremony entirely and spent the reception sulking in a dull pink dress.
That night, Tom grinned and whispered, “Happy?” I kissed him. “Ecstatic.”
