In a world where societal expectations often overshadow personal desires, Jen Marie Wiggins’ The Good Bride offers a compelling exploration of the delicate balance between tradition and self-discovery. Through vivid storytelling and complex characters, Wiggins delves into the pressures women face to conform to idealized roles while seeking their paths to fulfillment.
In this excerpt from The Good Bride, she invites the readers to journey alongside a protagonist navigating between duty and desire and the complexities of being the “good bride” in a world that demands perfection.
“The road to hell is paved with secrets.
It’s a strange thought for Ruth Bancroft to have as she pulls up to the Reid Street boutique, Two Be Wed. She always did that. Let her student’s work creep in even after she left the classroom.
The assignment — rewrite a common expression — was designed to spur critical thinking skills, and the response from a soft-spoken 11th grader had taken her by surprise.
Good intentions and secrets are cut from the same cloth, she thinks, pausing to admire the shop’s window display, a mannequin in a playful avant-garde ball gown made of seek sucker and lace. It was the kind of quirky teacher comment she usually liked to include along with a student’s grade and might be suiting too many scenarios lately.
Ruth pushes open the boutique’s door, causing a bell to chime, the familiar smell of fresh paint and industrial glue everywhere since Hurricane Charlie. Her sister, Sophia, and mother, Caroline, are perched on the settee in front of the sales floor’s three-way mirror, two glasses of champagne fizzing between them. Ruth can see from the set of her mother’s mouth and the pinched appraisal of the plastic flute in her hand that she won’t be drinking it.
Sophia looks up, blonde waves slipping over her shoulders as she shuts the binder in her lap. It’s only 84 degrees outside, mild for October in the Panhandle, but Ruth is already sweating. Her bushel of too-thick hair is spurring a four-alarm fire against her neck. As usual, her sister looks impossibly put-together, her linen tunic unwrinkled, fresh lipstick. Every bit of her permeates the Instagram influencer she is.
Sophia stands, phone in her hand, and smooths her outfit, ‘Jo’s running behind–maybe grab some pics now?’
‘Well hello to you too, big sis–it’s nice to see you this morning…’
There’s a quick hug, a set of air kisses along with her sister’s flippant laugh, and Ruth pastes on a smile, willing herself again not to count all the ways her ‘little beach wedding’ isn’t going as planned. The town has nearly been leveled in the twelve months since she’d pitched the idea to her fiance. The now-famous category four storm barreled through Blue Compass on the day their engagement announcement hit the Savannah Morning News. Charlie’s last-minute turn had taken everyone by surprise–especially Blue Compass residents who never evacuated for any storm and certainly hadn’t batted an eyelash at earlier predictions of a softer brush to the east.
From the comfort of her fiance’s couch, they’d watched as the storm made direct landfall, the clarity of Teo’s absurdly big television unsettling as roads cracked like wet spackle in front of them and whole homes washed away in real-time. Six weeks later when the National Guard let people return, she’d been inconsolable, stammering over and over that a bomb had gone off. Charlie had shredded the enter beach district. Every plant and tree, business and home ripped up by the root. Even Blue Compass’s famous sugar-white sand was gone. In its place was a gritty dirt landscape dotted only by driveways. The parking slabs like gravestones while mountains of debris lined every curb.
Once the shock wore off, Ruth dug in. Blue Compass needed her more than ever. Teo said he would marry her anywhere. Her family was a much harder sell.
But now here she was — a year later, in front of the camera again. Another painful round of forced smiles, more craning and contouring. Hips back. Chest up. Always in that way everyone knows looks good in photos but feels ridiculous in the moment. She didn’t need another reminder that the publicity was a good thing.
It was lucky that Two Be Wed was open at all. One block to the left, the roof was still caved in on a consignment shop with an identical storefront. Blue Compass’s little version of the main street, once lined in pots of mums and marked by an American Flag, was nowhere near restored. Since her sister’s account @sophiasez began featuring the wedding, donations to the city’s recovery fund have tripled.
‘Lord, let me do it.’ Sophia jams her head into Ruth’s, and she yelps as her sister naps a few artfully arranged selfies in front of the shop’s etched glass logo. As Ruth peels herself away, the clicks continue.
‘There’s my bride…’ The voice comes from a tiny office in the back as Kayla Jennings appears, the young owner strapping a pin cushion to her wrist.
Ruth smiles and squelches the urge to double-take, her eyes shooting to the floor as Kayla tosses back hair that should be coarse and black, yet suddenly isn’t. Since their last visit, her wedding planner has colored and straightened her tight curls, a surprise bubblegum pink now peeking from the bottom layer.
‘It’s so cute.’ Sophia’s squeal is cloying as she reaches out to touch a pink strand before going in for a full hug.
Kayla is about to say something when the front door flies open. A burst of noise and a dirty Ked propping it in place as Ruth’s niece and nephew toddle in. Behind them, Jo Bancroft-Hunt teeters in the doorframe. Her sister is sweaty and balancing on one foot, a death grip on the wrist of each of her twins. A menagerie of backpacks and diaper bags look ready to topple her.
‘The sitter still hasn’t shown, and daddy’s out too far fishing.’ Jo rolls her green eyes at the word fishing as she sheds the bags on the satin chair next to Caroline who slides over. Jo turns, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror. A sinister-looking brown stain streaks her white Henley. ‘Well, that’s new.’ She licks her thumb and rubs at it aggressively before rolling her eyes again and giving up.
‘There’s the most beautiful flower girl in the world.’ Ruth runs over to scoop up her four-year-old niece.
‘Champagne?’ Kayla holds up the bottle while looking at Jo, bending to pick up one of the twin’s bags and hang it on a hook.
Jo nods emphatically, ‘Sweet angel from heaven–yes.’
The twins plop down next to Caroline on the settee as her eyes go wide. ‘Beauregard Frankford Hunt, what’s in your pocket?’ Caroline leans over to examine her grandson’s hand as he reaches into his shorts. Her voice jumps three octaves as he lifts his palm toward her face. ‘Is that a dead frog?’
Caroline recoils as Jo grabs for a trashcan by the counter. When she’s finished shaking Beau’s hands out over the gold bin, she wipes her own on her jeans before searching through a unicorn backpack until she unearths matching iPads. Handing them over to the twins, she signs, ‘Yesterday, I found one of those snakeskin molts in his backpack. I swear I miss the nanny more than I do the firm, hands down.’
Rhea wiggles free from Ruth to grab the tablet then looks back up at her aunt. Her Emerald eyes pinched in a serious expression. ‘Dere’s a man in our window.’
‘What?’ Sophia laughs.
‘I told Mommy. I don’t like dat scary man.’
Jo suppresses another eye roll. ‘Daddy let them watch a Halloween movie marathon last night… Obviously, we’re crushing this parenting thing.’
‘Shut up. You guys are awesome.’ Sophia bats her slender wrist in a give me a break gesture as her eyes shoot to Kayla. ‘Are those the dresses? Gimme. Gimme. It feels like we’ve been waiting forever–’
Kayla hands the sisters their bridesmaid’s dresses in heavy plastic bags, and Ruth follows them into the tiny fitting room, relieved her own Alexander McQueen gown hadn’t needed much alteration. The strapless bodice sat perfectly at her waist, the simple neckline chosen to accent where Caroline’s necklace hit just at her collarbone. The diamond choker with its intricate filigree was something she was still wrapping her mind around wearing. The center stone alone was six carats. It was a family heirloom, and Ruth knew that if she so much as nicked a filigree, her family would disown her.
‘I’m so glad this is the last of the errands.’ Ruth zips up Sophia’s dress. ‘I just want as little drama as possible for the rest of the week.’
Sophia lets out a snort. ‘Umm–says the girl who waited till this morning to drop the bomb that dear ol’ dad is walking you down the aisle.’
‘Come on, you know how hard that was for me–but Dad really wants to… and at least he’s trying–’
‘Seriously, I’m shocked Mom is here at all–or that she’s even talking to you.’ Jo steps out of her jeans and into her dress. ‘It’s like this wedding is mellowing her out.’
The bridesmaid designs were pale pink and made of soft shantung silk. Ruth had been mindful of their selection, each tailored to work with the sister’s body type. With the help of Kayla, Sophia’s dress skimmed the lines of her waif-like figure offering the illusion of curves. A few skillfully placed darts cinched Jo’s dress in all the right places. The results were better than Ruth could’ve imagined.”
‘The dresses are perfect. Caroline is going to die.’ Stepping aside, she clears a path so they can squeeze by and get the final nod of approval which is waiting — as always — from their mother.”
The Good Bride by Jen Marie Wiggins is more than a story about a woman navigating the complexities of marriage. It’s a profound reflection on the choices we make and the roles we play in the pursuit of happiness. Wiggins masterfully captures the tension between societal expectations and personal growth, leaving readers to ponder their journeys and paths. Whether married, engaged, or simply reflecting on your own life, this story resonates on a deeply human level. It reminds us that the pursuit of self-discovery is a journey worth taking.
Featured image via Blaz Photo on Unsplash
