33. Sigourney
“ Mom, we’re ready!” I call, fixing Walken’s bow tie. We’re all dressed up for the final dress rehearsal for Mama Rochelle’s musical.
“I’m coming! Just looking for my sewing bag!” Mom calls.
She comes out of the bedroom carrying her sewing bag. “One of the costumes ripped at the rehearsal last night. I want everything to be perfect for Rochelle’s off-Broadway debut.”
“Mama Rochelle is going to be famous,” Walken says confidently.
“The Atlantic was smart to snap it up before someone else could get their hands on it,” Mom agrees. “And everyone will love it.”
“What is it about again?” Walken asks as Mom locks up.
“It’s a musical where a boy and a girl switch bodies and have to help each other, right, Mom?”
“Something like that. There’s more to it, but you’ll see it tonight. The songs are really catchy too,” she adds.
We take the subway to 23rd Street and get out, heading for the Linda Gross Theater. The signs out front are all announcing Mama Rochelle’s musical. I’m so excited for her that I can hardly contain myself, running for the doors as soon as they’re in sight. Walken follows behind.
“When does everyone else get to see the show?” Walken asks as we wait to take our seats.
“This is the final dress rehearsal,” Mom explains. “This weekend, the show will start previews. Remember that Miss Rochelle and Mr. Frederick are getting married on Saturday morning so they can be at the show that night.”
“Yeah, and I’m a junior bridesmaid,” I say, pointing at myself with my thumb. My dress is lavender with ruffles and lace, and it’s very pretty.
Mom leaves us in our seats to head to the backstage area. She’s been working as a seamstress at The Atlantic for the past five months, ever since some big shot from the theater was at her bank and complimented her dress. When she found out that Mom made it herself, she told her to interview for their new seamstress assistant job.
And Mom gets to help work on the costumes for Mama Rochelle’s show, so we get to see her every day after school, which is our favorite.
Papa Fred comes over with his friend, Chase. He sits next to us, right in the front row with Chase on the end of the aisle/
“Are you guys excited for the show?” he asks us.
“Yeah!” Walken bounces in his seat. “We can’t wait. Did you get to see it before tonight?”
“Nope,” he says, shaking his head. “Tonight is the last rehearsal, and they’re letting all the family and friends see it before previews,” he says. “I have some flowers and a stuffed bear for Rochelle, for after the show. Can you hold onto the bear for me during the show, Walken?”
Walken grins, and Papa Fred holds out a soft stuffed panda, letting Walken hold it on his lap. The lights go dim and the director lady comes out with Mama Rochelle. They talk about the show a little bit, getting us all excited.
After the show is finished, Walken and I clap so loud, standing up with everyone else.
“It was so good!” Walken says to me, leaning over.
“Yeah!” I agree. “I can’t wait to tell Mama Rochelle.”
Papa Fred takes all of us to the backstage area, where Mom and Mama Rochelle are talking with people from the cast. Everyone is crying, laughing, and hugging each other, and Papa Fred hands a big bouquet of roses to Mama Rochelle. She hugs him so hard and kisses him.
Walken tugs on his jacket. “Papa Fred, the bear!” he whispers, holding up the panda.
“Oh, right.” Papa Fred beams and shows Mama Rochelle the panda. “The kids held onto him so he got to see the show, too.”
And now she’s crying again and hugging him and us. “Thank you guys for coming. Did you like the show?”
“Yes. I loved the song about how Emily felt like she didn’t belong with her family, but she felt like she finally belonged when she was with Beau’s family.”
“And it was funny when Beau was standing up to Emily’s dad and stepmom,” Walken tells her. “I can’t believe you wrote all the songs!”
“I wrote the music and worked with someone who did the lyrics,” Mama Rochelle explains.
“Oh, like Rogers and Hammerstein?” I ask. “They wrote the musical Cinderella! I learned that when we did Annie at school.”
“Exactly.” Mama Rochelle nods. “Let me introduce you to the lyricist. Her name is Jane Powell.”
She brings over a white lady with curly, red hair. The lady is short, almost my height, and her lips are painted bright red.
“Jane and I are working on another project together already.”
“Rochelle’s music was simply inspiring!” Jane gushes. “The lyrics practically wrote themselves when I heard her score. Frederick, you’re a lucky man to be marrying this genius.”
Papa Fred and Mama Rochelle exchange a look and they both smile real soft, reaching out to hold hands.
“I am very lucky,” Papa Fred agrees.
“You’re very talented,” Chase offers. “Wonderful show.”
We hug Mama Rochelle one more time before Mom whisks us away. The wedding is in two days. They’re getting married at the hotel where Mama Rochelle used to work.
On Saturday, the three of us get up bright and early take the bus to the hotel. Mom sends Walken off with Papa Fred, and she and I go to the bridal suite.
Inside, Mama Rochelle is getting her hair styled. She’s wearing a white robe, with purple cursive writing on the back that says Bride . Her other friends are here already – Jasmine, Ella, and her Maid of Honor, Neecie. I’m the only junior bridesmaid.
“There she is now,” Jasmine says, standing up. She’s wearing a purple robe with glittery silver writing on the back that says Bridesmaid . She hands me my own robe, which spells out Junior Bridesmaid .
“Sigourney, come on, I’m going to do your hair, sit here.” She pats a chair and I sit, getting my hair intricately curled and pinned.
There’s so much happening that I can hardly sit still. Once my hair is done, Mom puts a little makeup on my face while Mama Rochelle gets hers done by a pretty Black woman with beautiful cornrows.
Then everyone has to leave so Mama Rochelle can put her dress on.
We come back inside and everyone oohs and ahhs. She looks like a princess in her dress. It’s shiny, made from satin, and the shoulders go down over her arms. The skirt is very full, almost poofy and the train is long, too.
“Rochelle, you look like a glamorous old Hollywood movie star,” Mom exclaims. Mama Rochelle even has long white gloves, too.
“Okay, it’s time to take some pictures,” the photographer lady says. “Sigourney, I want you to stand there, and Rochelle, put that flower crown on her head.”
I stand still while Mama Rochelle places my tiara, as the photographer snaps away. “Great, let’s get a shot of all the bridesmaids together!”
The wedding planner comes into the room and tells us it’s time. Mama Rochelle’s face goes funny, like she’s trying not to cry, and Mom helps carry her train as we all head to the elevator to go to the wedding place.
The music is playing when we arrive and then the planner opens the doors. I go first, holding onto Walken’s arm. He’s Papa Fred’s junior groomsman.
“You look nice,” he whispers. “I like your dress.”
“You look good, too,” I whisper back. “Mom did a good job fixing your old suit.”
We reach the end of the aisle where Papa Fred is standing beside Chase as his best man. He gives us a big smile as Walken stands next to him and I go stand on the other side, like we did in the rehearsal.
As I wait for the other bridesmaids, I look around. There are purple and bronze flowers everywhere, with silver accents. It matches the bridesmaids' dresses. The groomsmen all have bronze pocket squares to match, too.
When Mama Rochelle starts walking down the aisle, Papa Fred gasps. He has tears in his eyes. They reach out and link hands, standing together.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here today to witness the marriage between Rochelle Reynolds and Frederick Adams III.” The minister is talking, but I spot Mom in the crowd, sitting in the second row with Jane Powell and the lady who played Emily in the show. I give her a little wave, and she waves back.
A few people laugh and I blush, suddenly realizing I’m distracting from the ceremony. I turn so I’m facing my former foster parents again and start paying attention this time.
“Do you, Rochelle, take Frederick to be your lawfully wedded husband?” the minister asks.
“I do.”
“And do you Frederick, take Rochelle to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
“I do.”
They exchange vows, talking about love and stuff, and then the minister says they’re husband and wife. Papa Fred gives Mama Rochelle a big kiss, dipping her backward for a moment.
We all clap really hard when they stand up again and music plays. Everyone follows the newly married couple back down the aisle.
During the reception, the DJ announces all of the bridal party one at a time. Everyone claps for me when my name is called.
“I feel like a celebrity,” I tell my brother while we eat dinner.
When the DJ starts playing music, Walken pulls me on the dance floor and we dance around together a lot.
“This is straight lit,” he says over the music.
“Where did you hear that?”
“I heard some high schoolers say it.”
We go back to the table where Mom has three glasses of apple juice in fancy champagne cups. She hasn’t had any alcohol since she left the rehab place.
“It’s for the toast,” she tells us.
The DJ announces the speeches. Mama Rochelle’s maid of honor comes up to talk, followed by Papa Fred’s best man, and then Papa Fred’s uncle goes to the microphone.
“I’m so glad that Rochelle and Frederick have decided to join their lives together. We are very lucky to have a woman as beautiful, talented, smart, and kind as her in the family. To welcome her, I would like to give her a gift. Rochelle, I have put the title for our family’s castle in Austria in your name. You’re officially an Adams now!”
Mama Rochelle gasps and puts her hand to her chest, looking stunned. “Thank you so much, Uncle Theron.”
They hug, and Papa Fred laughs before taking Mama Rochelle back onto the dance floor to dance the rest of the night away.
THE END.