Alexandra readied herself for the inevitable turmoil when her stepmother arrived to her wedding in a white dress, saying that she deserved attention. However, her husband devised a cunning scheme to turn the situation around unexpectedly.
“These flowers need to be perfect,” Linda added, meticulously arranging them. “After all, it’s a big day for the family.”
I sat at the dining table, sipping my tea and trying to be calm.
My father smiled at her. “Linda has a great eye for these things,” he told me.
I forced a smile. “They do look nice, Linda,” I said.
My stepmother, Linda, entered my life when I was ten years old, following the d3ath of my mother. She enjoyed being the center of attention, and today was no exception.
She fussed over the flowers, making sure every petal was in position. Her exaggerated movements made it appear as if she were on stage. I was curious what stunt she might pull at the wedding.
“Are you excited about the wedding, Dad?” I asked, and I wanted to change the subject.
He nodded, his eyes sparkling. Thank you so much, Alexandra. “It’ll be a lovely day.”
Linda added, “Yes, and everything has to be perfect.” It’s not every day that we have such a significant occasion.
I nodded, but my thoughts were elsewhere. I knew Linda would find a way to make the day about herself. She always did.
I remembered birthdays and holidays when she managed to steal the show, leaving me in the background.
As Linda continued to care over the flowers, my nervousness increased. I wanted to enjoy the wedding, but with Linda around, it was always difficult.
“Do you need any help, Linda?” I offered, attempting to be courteous.
She waved me off. “Oh, no, sweetie. I got everything under control.”
“Alright,” I responded with a forced smile. “I’ll leave, Dad. “I have to be somewhere.”
I met Sarah, my best friend and maid of honor, in the wedding planner’s office.
“Why is the bride looking so sad?” She asked, hugging me.
“I guess I’m just nervous.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll have the best day! Come on, it’s getting late.
We entered Grace’s wedding planning office.
“Well, uh, your stepmother requested to be seated in the front row and insisted on giving a speech during the reception, Alexandra,” she added, looking up from her notes.
I was astonished. Linda and I had already discussed this. How could she do this?
“Isn’t that usually reserved for the bride’s mother or father?” Sarah inquired, raising an eyebrow.
Grace nodded. “Yes, traditionally, the front row is reserved for the bride’s parents. Linda shouldn’t be in that area because your father will be there and you have chosen to honor your late mother by reserving a seat for her.
“Additionally, we must preserve some decorum and respect for family traditions. This wedding is quite important, especially given the homage to your mother.”
I sighed, felt the familiar frustration build. “She’s always trying to make everything about herself. I’m sure she has a great performance planned!”
Sarah leaned closer. “We need to be prepared for whatever she’s planning.”
Grace stared at me, concerned. “How would you like to handle this, Alexandra?”
I thought for a moment. “Can we explain to her that the front row is allocated for my mother and father? Could you propose she seat in the second row?
“That sounds reasonable,” Grace agreed. “I’ll speak with her. And what about the speech?
I shake my head. “I really don’t want her to give a speech. It’s meant to be an homage to my mother and a celebration of the wedding. “She will just make it about herself.”
Sarah nodded. “We can have someone else speak if necessary. Maybe one of us, or someone on your mother’s side of the family?”
“That’s a good idea,” I remarked, feeling a little more relaxed. “Let’s make sure the speeches are meaningful and respectful.”
Grace jotted some notes. “I will take care of it. We’ll make sure everything runs smoothly.”
Sarah squeezed my arm as we were leaving Grace’s office.
“Do not worry, Alex. We got this. Linda will not ruin your day.”
I nodded, hoping she was correct.
When I returned to our flat, I needed to discuss my concerns with Tom.
“Linda is determined to steal the show,” I replied, dropping my bag at the door. “She’s giving a speech at the reception and insisted on sitting in the front row.”
Tom wrapped his arms around me. “We’ll handle this together. Do not worry.”
I grimaced while leaning into his embrace.
“It’s not just that,” I explained, pushing away from him. “She has a way of making everything into a spectacle. She’s not my biological mother, but she’s always forced herself into duties intended for my mother. We wish to memorialize my mother by preserving her seat in the front row. I’m frightened she’ll make our wedding about her.”
Tom smiled reassuringly. “Trust me. I have a plan. Let her have her moment. Everything will work out.”
“What kind of plan?” I inquired, curious.
He kissed my forehead. “Trust me. It is a surprise. But I pledge to keep the spotlight where it should be: on us and your mother’s memory.
I sighed, feeling slightly better but still worried. “I hope so. I just want everything to run smoothly. Linda can be quite unpredictable.”
Tom gripped my hand. “I understand. But we got this. We are in this together.”
I nodded, hoping to relax. “Thank you, Tom. I greatly appreciate it.”
“Anytime, love,” he replied, offering me a reassuring smile. “Now, let’s enjoy our evening and not worry about Linda for a bit.”
I smiled back, appreciative for his encouragement.
Soon, the wedding day arrived.
I felt both excited and nervous.
Sarah raced into the room, her face pale, while I was still getting ready in my bathrobe.
“You won’t believe this,” she remarked, leading me to the window.
I looked out and saw Linda emerge in a full-length white bridal gown.
“What the…” Okay, I did not see this coming. How dare she?
“Linda, what are you doing? You cannot wear white to my wedding!” I stormed over to her, unable to contain my rage.
“Oh, darling,” she smiled not expressing a trace of regret. “You are young, Alexandra. You have your entire life ahead of you. This could be my final opportunity to feel like a bride again. I deserve this attention.”
I felt my rage growing, but Tom pulled me away. “Trust me, we’ll sort this out later,” he said with a mischievous smile.
“But Tom, how could she?”
“Trust me, okay?” he asked, and I agreed.
The ceremony continued, with Linda seated in the front row, relishing in her stolen spotlight. Grace’s helpless expression indicated that Linda had achieved her goal.
I was seething internally, but I trusted Tom.
As the ceremony progressed, I tried to focus on the vows and the moment. I looked to Tom and received a reassuring nod. But every time I saw Linda’s smug look, my confidence in Tom’s strategy dwindled.
When it came time for the remarks, I held my breath. Linda rose up, prepared to take over. But before she could speak, Tom grabbed the microphone.
“Ladies and gentlemen, before we continue, I’d like to share a special video tribute to Alexandra’s late mother.”
The lights darkened, and a lovely montage of my mother played on the screen.
Pictures, movies, and poignant notes filled the room. My eyes welled up with tears, and the other guests were noticeably moved. Linda’s expression changed from arrogant to shocked.
Tom gave me a knowing smile at the end of the homage. “Today is about commemorating your mother and our love, Alex. Nobody can take that away.”
He then looked at Linda. “Linda, could you join us up here?” he inquired.
Linda looked pleased, as if she were about to be honored.
As she approached the platform, Tom said, “Linda has always been a star in her own right, so today, we’ve decided to let her shine even more.”
Another slideshow started to play. The first few photos were harmless enough, showing Linda in her white gown from various perspectives at the ceremony. But then Tom’s twist arrived.
Linda had sneaked into my bridal suite earlier that morning, as shown in the next photo.
She was captured on camera trying on my bridal veil and whirling around with a bouquet she had picked from the floral arrangements.
The entire room gasped, and Linda’s face grew scarlet.
She attempted to remain cool, but Tom was not done.
“Wait, Linda, we’re not finished,” he remarked, gesturing to the DJ.
Suddenly, the speakers played a clip of Linda on the phone with a friend, bragging about her plans to outperform me.
“This young princess must learn her place. “I’ve waited long enough for my moment,” her voice echoed down the corridor.
The audience was surprised, and a few even booed. Tom threw his arms around me, whispering, “I told you I had it covered.”
However, the surprise was not over.
Tom had invited Linda’s ex-husband to be the guest speaker. He mounted the stage and told everyone about Linda’s earlier escapades, revealing her true personality.
What was the result? Linda, red-faced and surrounded, slid out of the hall as quietly as possible. Tom and I smiled, knowing we had taught her a lesson in her own way. She was in the spotlight because she was wanted, but for the wrong reasons.
Have you had to teach somebody a lesson at your wedding?
