“How are we going to do this?” she asked Nicolas about their remarriage. “We just go to the mairie, and have lunch afterwards?” The mairie was the city hall of each district of Paris and each small town outside Paris.
“That’s a little dry, don’t you think? We could do it at the mairie for the legal ceremony, and have a church wedding the next day, the way normal people do it.”
“I’m not sure how ‘normal’ we are. We’re divorced. Are you telling me you want a real wedding?” She looked amused.
“I think I do,” he said, mulling it over. “Why not? We have a lot to celebrate. We could make it one-stop shopping. Benoit hasn’t been christened yet, and I suspect they’ll never get to it. We could have him baptized at the wedding, and have him at the château for the weekend. Or is that too crazy?”
“Definitely crazy. I think we’re starting to border on the seriously eccentric. But I guess we could, as long as his mother doesn’t show up.”
“She won’t. We won’t tell her.”
“Don’t ever tell me that I’m still too American. I’m going to marry my husband, whom I accidentally divorced, while we christen the baby he had with his mistress, who was the reason for the divorce in the first place. In America, they put you in psychiatric hospitals for this.”
“I don’t think it’s actually done in the better social circles here either, but I don’t care. Do you?”
“Actually, I don’t. What the hell. Why not baptize the baby? I hope my mother is up to this.”
“Your mother is pretty cool.”
Nadia had an idea then. She wanted to discuss it with Venetia. She had come back to her marriage still in love with Nicolas, but with a stronger sense of herself, more self-confidence, and an independence she’d never had before. She had survived the worst blow that could hit a marriage, and had come out the other end, whole, and strong, and happy. Her sisters had noticed it too.
She called Venetia the next morning and confided in her. She was the only one she was going to tell. She wanted to surprise everyone else.
“How did you manage to get divorced without noticing it?”
“I just forgot about the papers, and then we got back together and that seemed more important.”
“You’re probably right,” Venetia said, bored out of her mind. She had a drafting table over her bed in the daytime, so she could continue working. “So what do you want me to do?” Venetia thought the whole thing was funny.
“I want you to design a fabulous dress for me. A total fantasy. I wore such a serious one last time. It was beautiful, but I want to have fun this time.” She had worn an ivory peau de soie gown with a lace coat over it and a ten-foot train, which they got at Bergdorf’s. “I want you to go crazy with it.”
“Well, we could go little farm girl, or Heidi, if you’re going to do it at the château, or we could go totally nuts with a giant tulle ball skirt,” she suggested off the top of her head, but she could envision it on Nadia.
“That sounds better. I want to look and feel like Cinderella.”
“Oh my God. Are you on medication? Maybe you should be. Now you’re divorced, then you want to give a fantasy wedding. Are we dressing Nicolas like Elvis, or Prince Charming?”
“He can wear a white linen suit. He has ten of them. I want my dress to be special. Lots of tulle skirt, I think Galliano did one like that once for Dior. I think it was yellow or pink or something.”
“Are we doing white or a color?” Venetia was beginning to enjoy it and doodling as they spoke.
“White. And cute little white organdie dresses for the girls.”
“I can’t wait for this wedding,” Venetia said, giggling. “I have to figure out what to tell my workroom about who this is for. I’ll pick some fabulous rock star. I’ll send you a sheet for your measurements.” They talked about it for half an hour, and afterwards, Venetia continued to text her questions, which she answered, about how the bodice should look, sleeves or no sleeves, how long the train should be, pearls or tiny rhinestones. Nadia texted back “Both.” No veil since it was a second wedding. Venetia thought a tiara. She was having as much fun with it as Nadia was. It took the sting out of having discovered the day before that she was divorced. Nicolas had decided that was funny, but it still made Nadia uneasy. What if they never got around to getting married again? She didn’t like that idea at all.
She and Nicolas picked the third Saturday in June, and they were able to book the small country church near the château. The priest faltered for a minute when Nicolas told him they were divorced, and he explained that divorced people could not get married in a Catholic church, and Nicolas explained to him that it was a technicality, and they were marrying the same people as the first time.
“Ah, like a renewal of vows.”
“Exactly.” It was the brief ceremony at city hall that would actually bind them together legally again. The church ceremony was more about religious tradition, and Nicolas mentioned to him that there would be a baptism too.
“The bride and groom’s baby?”
“Actually, the groom’s, not the bride’s.” The priest decided to ignore that. Nicolas reported to Nadia that everything was in order with the church. She had to go off to meet clients then, and she could hardly keep her mind on the project at hand. Suddenly, their unorthodox, very eccentric wedding seemed more exciting.
Nadia sent Venetia her measurements, and the gown got under way. Venetia sent her emails showing her the sketches for it. They were going to make the bodice out of six layers of white organdie, and she’d be corseted in tight, with gossamer sleeves, and the tulle ball skirt was in fact enormous, with a hoop under it, so it would swing like a bell when Nadia walked.
Nadia had extended the weekend invitation to her sisters and their partners and children, and her mother. Rose wanted to know if they were having a big party or a family event. And Nadia responded that it was a family party.
“What do I wear?” she wanted to know.
“Something summery and dressy.”
“Long or short?”
“Whatever you like.”
Nicolas had hired a local quartet to play chamber music, with a violinist. Nadia was going to do the flowers herself the morning of the wedding.
They had everything lined up by the first of May, when Venetia called her at two a.m. in Paris, eight p.m. in New York. “I’m in labor. They said they’re not going to try and stop it this time. I’m only three weeks early. I didn’t even think I was in labor, I thought it was something I ate. But it’s getting bad now.”