Installation 41: A Bride's Work Never Ends previous
Corey Feldman and his fiancé, Stephanie, entered into that whirlwind time before a wedding that is taken up with mini-events. First, a bridal shower thrown by Stephanie’s co-workers at The Container Store and another a week later for friends and family. That shower was thrown by Claudia, Stephanie’s best friend from Roget Institute, where they had studied graphic design together before Stephanie dropped out after her second semester. At the time, she blamed dropping out on undiagnosed fibromyalgia but the truth was she didn’t have a passion for designing brochures and letterhead. She didn’t have a passion for containers either, but it was something to pay the bills until she got married.
Stephanie wanted to be married. She was the girl in seventh grade who sketched her bridal gown during art class; the high school student who bought Bride Magazine, a six-pack of Diet Pepsi and a bag of M&Ms to hunker down with on a Saturday night when she had nothing to do. Which wasn’t often. Stephanie was petite, blond and had perfectly round, nicely sized breasts. She was the kind of girl who was invited to senior prom as a freshman. The kind who could, on the first seventy-degree day of spring, throw on a pair of tiny shorts and a bikini top and look beautiful - no crash diets or trips to the tanning bed needed.
She was also the kind of woman who had many boyfriends, some of them not only handsome but intelligent. But in the end she rejected them all in favor of a man with a squarish head who was a former reality TV star still trading on his fifteen seconds of fame. A few close friends, and Stephanie’s mother, went so far as to say that this might be a mistake.
If, to the outside world, Corey was seen as slightly pathetic, at The Museum he was a superstar; one of the most valued staff members and a celebrity to boot. As such, the Development Department wanted to honor Corey and Stephanie's pending nuptials with a pre-wedding luncheon. After much planning, it was held in the Post Impressionist Conference Room. Everyone on staff was invited and they swarmed the room at exactly 11:59, gobbling down the tiny chocolates in the shape of wedding bells set at each place and ogling the framed photo of Corey and Stephanie that was set up in the corner as a shrine.
The festivities kicked off with a game of Corey and Stephanie Trivia. Among the 40-odd questions were the following:
On what reality show did Corey make his television debut?
With what movie star does Corey share his name?
What is Corey’s favorite food?
What was the biggest fight Corey and Stephanie have had to date? Who was in the right?
What was the name of the girlfriend immediately preceding Stephanie? One point for first name only; two points for first and last name.
What cologne does Corey favor? Hint: It shares its name with a sport played with horses, mallets and a ball.
Has Stephanie earned the right to wear a white wedding dress?
While Corey found the game to be all in good fun, Stephanie was a bit upset.
“This isn’t funny,” she whispered to Corey.
“Sure it is,” Corey said. “They mean well. They’re just having some fun.”
Of course the winner of the trivia game, scoring 59 out of a possible 60 points, was Corey Reeves.
“Come on up, Corey,” Lars Auerbach, Director of Development, announced from the podium. “You’ve won a prize graciously donated from The Store. You have your choice of a Day of the Dead figurine or a Crazy Artists Through the Ages magnet set.”
Corey Reeves wobbled to her feet. She wore a wrap dress that wasn’t wrapped tightly enough, threatening to break away and expose a full frontal view. Since 8:00 that morning, she’d been taking nips off a flask. The result, combined with her inability to stop weeping, was quite disconcerting. She staggered through the tables.
“Uh, which gift do you would you prefer?”
“I want a hug,” Corey said.
“Ha ha. That’s cute,” Lars said. “She wants a hug.” He started to come around from the podium, arms outstretched.
“Not from you,” Corey said. “From him.” She pointed to Corey where he sat at the head table with Stephanie.
“Oh,” Corey Feldman said, blushing and glancing over at Stephanie. “I’m afraid that’s not possible. Married man and all that.”
“You’re not married yet,” Lars said. “How about a hug for the young lady?”
The room erupted in chanting. “Hug her. Hug her. Hug her.”
Corey looked at Stephanie, who sat rigid in her chair with lips pressed together in an angry line.
“Honey?” he said.
“Fine, go ahead.”
“No, really, if you don’t want me to…”
“Get it over with,” Stephanie hissed.
Corey stood up and adjusted his tie. He walked out to meet Corey and put his arms loosely around her, patting her back as one might an infirm grandmother. He let go quickly and avoided eye contact. This gave Corey Reeves the opportunity to grab hold, clamping his left leg between her legs and wrapping her arms around his torso. She didn’t so much hug him as latch on like a leech. She kissed his cheek and neck, then turned his head and locked her mouth onto his, thrusting her tongue between his lips. The kiss lasted for a very uncomfortable 15 seconds before Stephanie stood and ran from the room.
“OK, OK,” Lars said. “Might have overdone it a bit there, Corey.”
But Corey wouldn’t let go of Corey.
Hank Colt and Bronson Menard stood and grabbed her by the arms, pulling her back.
“Let go of me,” Corey screamed. “You know what I’ve been through!” She broke down into sobbing.
They carried her from the room. At one point, her dress gave way, exposing a very pretty bra and underwear set that several women (and men) recognized from the Victoria's Secret catalog. Bronson tried to wrap it around her as they pushed out through the conference door and into the hallway.
“Well,” Lars said. “That wasn’t really what I thought it was going to be.”
Corey Feldman left the room. At the same time, waiters burst through the doors from the kitchen, carrying trays loaded with spring salads and freshly baked rolls. This was followed by a main coarse of green beans and Chicken Kiev. Karrie Thompson pushed “Play” on a portable CD player and the sounds of The Dave Matthews Band (Corey's favorite band of all time) filled the conference room.
Out in the hallway, things were not so joyful.
“Did you have sex with that woman? Is that the one who was texting you all the time?” Stephanie said.
“No, no,” Corey said. “She's the office drunk. No one knows what she'll do from one minute to the next. One day she thought I was her long lost brother.”
“Her brother? What happened to him?”
“Uh... Vietnam.”
“Oh... That's horrible.”
“She has a horrible life,” Corey said. “That's why I didn't want to hug her. Because it only fuels the delusions. It was really cruel of them in there, to encourage it.”
Stephanie didn't know what to think. There was Corey, the man she loved. There was the wedding with its expensive flowers, her tailor-made dress and the champagne and shrimp cocktail hour. At the same time, there was the nagging feeling that she didn't quite believe him; that even though she had barely passed her high school history class, she suspected that a woman of Corey's age would never have known a brother old enough to go to Vietnam. She wavered in the hallway, letting her mascara drip down her cheeks. Her resolve was made firm only when she remembered that all that stood between her and a lifetime of working retail was this now tenuous thread to Corey.
“Babe,” Corey said. “Why don't you go wash your face and put on some fresh lipstick?”
“But...”
“Did I tell you that dessert is carrot cake with cream cheese frosting and vanilla ice cream?”
“That's my favorite,” Stephanie said.
When Corey and Stephanie re-entered the Post Impressionist Room, everyone stood and gave them a round of applause.
Lars went to the podium. “Corey and Stephanie,” he said. “Everyone at The Museum wishes you all the best. I’d like to present you with this $500 gift certificate to Linens-n-Things. Hopefully, a little towel and sheet shopping will help smooth things over.”
There was another round of applause, followed by a rousing game of Wedding Word Search and a drawing for the table centerpieces before people drifted back to their offices, groggy as the sugar high from the cake disappeared and left them tired and faced with the usual array of paperwork and e-mails.