Wedding Planner by Liz Berg

“It’s not what it looks like.” 

“It’s exactly what it looks like. You’ve deliberately chosen a dress in the same style as mine.” 

“Considering the time of year, there was very little choice. Stop being a drama queen.” “I’m not. I just thought…” 


“Oh, forget it. I don’t know why I’m talking to you. Nothing’s going to change.” “I have to go out. Can you make yourself something to eat or do you want me to do that too?” 

“I can manage.” 


“You made me go shopping for my dress before the new season fashions arrived, months ago.” 

“Are you still harping on? You know what you’re like. You dither. If I’d left it to you, you wouldn’t have a dress…which I paid for.” 

“You could have chosen something different, that’s all.” 

“My dress is nothing like yours. Yours is white and mine olive green for one thing. They may have the same high collar, but I have ruffles where you have lace round the bodice. I wish you’d cease this senseless whining. I’m going to be late and I can’t stand being late.” 

“it’s always about you. What about me?” 

“This is all about you. The whole shindig. Don’t you want me to look my best for you?” “Of course.” 

“I suppose if I turned up in a potato sack, you’d be happy?” 


“No. You’d say I was letting the side down and you’d be right. All I was doing was thinking of you and this is how you repay me?” 

“Don’t. I’m sorry. You can wear what you want.” 

“Thank you. Now I’m off to meet the caterer and then sorting out a florist.” “What?” 

“Yes, I’m trying the tasting menu to whittle down your options and then talking about your bouquet.” 

“Bye, Mum.”

Published in Issue #12

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