The Porcelain Bride

I never expected her to become mine when I saw her that first time, even after so many years of thinking she had ended up becoming someone else’s.

I first saw her when I was around twelve or thirteen years old, possibly even younger. The shop had just done some rearranging after getting in some new merchandise. I was meandering around the area just up the stairs, where they have their collections of glass villages that sell as Christmas decorations, along with their Nativity pieces. Near that section was always a small room with bridal and wedding related items, like wedding announcements, placement cards for guests, decorations, and cake toppers. That’s when I first took notice of her.

She was a porcelain topper for a wedding cake; completely white from the bottom of her floral patterned gown to the matching veil she wore on her head. Her expression was a joyful one, but also distant, as though she were looking towards the bright, hopeful future that every bride looks forward to in the end as she held her bouquet of roses close to her bosom. Beside her stood her groom, also made of white porcelain and with the same expression on his face, a small wedding band in his own hand. They stood separate from each other, but each of their unoccupied hands was outstretched towards the other, formed by their maker so that if positioned correctly, their hands would join. I paid them a few more moments of my attention, then continued to browse through the store.

I only visited that store every once in awhile with my mom, it and its little cafe. It was a place we would go to at the end of the day just to unwind, have a cup of hot chocolate with a piece of white chocolate biscotti, then browse the collection of glassware, jewelry, and various other odds and ends. Though we rarely bought anything after browsing such wonders, because they were always so expensive, which made sense because everything was so nice there. Every now and again, however, we would find something that we wanted to take home that was a reasonable price, or we would be lucky enough for it to be on sale.

It was a few months later when I returned to the section with the wedding collection, just browsing like always, when I noticed her again, but something was different. Or rather, something was missing.

The bride was still there, but the groom was gone. I did a quick scan around the room to search for him, but there was no sign of him anywhere. I even searched behind the display, thinking maybe he had fallen or had been tucked behind some of the new merchandise, though it proved fruitless. When my gaze fell on the bride again, I couldn’t help but feel that her expression had changed somehow.

“Its alright,” she seemed to say. “He’ll be back, you’ll see.”

Not thinking on it any longer I stepped away from the display and moved on with my browsing once again, believing that the next time I came back to the store with my mother, I would find the groom by her side again. Since it was close to Halloween, my mom and I were planning to return to buy some of the special chocolate they would get that time of year that we liked so much, though I made no real plan to actually check up on the bride. And in the end, it wasn’t until much, much later that we returned to the shop, when the chocolates would most likely be on sale, and therefore much cheaper so we could buy more of them.

My mom ran into a friend that day and the two hung around the gardening supplies to talk, so I began to browse, taking my time to look through all the shiny baubles and crystal figurines that were positioned inside the glass cases, to examine all the decorated wooden and glass boxes meant for holding trinkets, and even trying on a silk scarf or two while scanning over the array of greeting cards on a nearby shelf. That’s when I found myself in that section again, and face to face with the porcelain bride.

She was still alone.

The expression on her face, once happy, looking forward to a bright future, now seemed different once again. Instead of looking happy toward her future, she was looking toward the moment her wedding would begin, and her hand was extended out expectantly, waiting for her groom, and that was where the look seemed to change; she was denying the reality that her groom may not return and she would still be alone.

I frowned and tore myself away as I heard my mother calling. It was time to leave the store again, for many, many months. Our next trip didn’t give me enough time to find the bride and see if her groom had returned to her or not, and the one following that was a short trip to purchase a gift for a dear friend. Then once again, we didn’t return to the shop for many, many months, until finally one year, around Christmas time when I was nineteen years old.

My grandmother had come to live with us then, and the gift I intended to buy for her there was a rosary to replace the one she had lost. After making my purchase I browsed to pass the time as I waited for my mother to make her purchase. The store had rearranged over time, so I had to familiarize myself with the layout all over again. As I made my way to where the wedding section had been, I saw it had been changed to an area to buy toys and clothes for newborns, though in the back corner was a single cabinet with packets of wedding announcement cards, a few silver cake toppers, and sets of cake knives. On the top shelf of that cabinet is where I found her again, still, all alone.

I frowned again, then promptly left to see if my mom had finished her purchase. I couldn’t help it, I couldn’t look at that expectant stare, for whatever reason, I just couldn’t bare to do it.

It wasn’t until another long time later that I returned to the store. I had recently started college fulltime so much of my time was taken up in my studies and I didn’t have much left for other things. Still, every once in awhile I did return to the store to browse, or have hot chocolate and biscotti, either alone or with my mom. It wasn’t until one of those times that I ran by the cabinet where I last saw the bride…

And saw that she was gone.

I can’t explain exactly why, but relief washed over me. “Someone finally purchased her,” I thought to myself. “That’s good.” And with that I continued to browse briefly before leaving.

It wasn’t until a long time after that, a few days ago, really, that the porcelain bride ever entered my thoughts again. It had also been a long time since I had been to that store, and much had changed, yet again. The once small shelf that held those candies my mom and I liked so much was now its own section, like walking into a candy store within a store, and the café had added more tables to sit at, and now served chilled cakes with their beverages, if you ordered them. Other than that, not much else changed.

My mom and I were browsing amongst the pottery and kitchenware section for good deals, since I was in the market for a good dish set for my new apartment. In the area where we were browsing was a small rack of random items that were on steep clearance, between thirty to seventy percent off on various shelves. The rack was tucked into the furthest, most poorly lit corner of the room, next to a door that was marked “Staff Only”. I had barely had the chance to glance at the contents of each shelf on the rack, when the first thing my eyes fell on, was her.

“Oh my God,” the words left my mouth involuntarily. “She’s still here.”

I stepped away from my mother mid conversation and over to the rack to quickly—but carefully—pick up the bride. She was exactly how I remembered her; white porcelain with a floral patterned gown, hand outstretched to hold the hand of her groom, and her face still so expectant, and yet so, so sad.

I wiped my thumb across her face to brush away the dust, and felt for a moment like I was wiping away tears. She had been here all this time, waiting, only for no one to come for her and be left to collect dust. I sighed sadly at the thought as I continued to brush away the dust, looking her over to see if she was damaged, which she was not. I looked up as my mother walked over and told her how I remembered the bride and her groom, forever separated, and then, I told her how I wanted to buy her. When my mother asked me why, I responded with,

“Because I feel sorry for her,” I said, and I don’t know why.

My mother laughed at this, calling it silly. But to me, it was a very serious decision. I looked down at the bride in her hand, her expectant stare now somewhat blank. She had been here for so long, with so much hope written into her face, only for it to be dashed as so many passed her over, myself among them. I couldn’t do it again, not after so many years.
I went to the front and made my purchase, and the clerk took note of the bride’s beauty. I briefly told the bride’s story before my mother broke in, telling the two clerks at the counter how I was only purchasing the bride because I felt sorry for her and how silly it was. One of the clerks followed up my story with how false it was, that the bride was only a single piece, not a set, meant for a bridal shower. I merely shook my head at her as she went off to find the box the bride came in.

And I waited there for nearly a half hour.

Finally when the clerk returned, with an embarrassed look on her face, saying how she couldn’t find the box. I just smiled and nodded at her, then she left to find another box and bubble wrap to pack the bride for her journey to her new home. I couldn’t help but smile the whole time as she was wrapped, and it was in that moment I looked at her expression again.

It seemed to be full of joy again.

I took the box from the clerk and went home, tucking the bride’s box into my closet to wait when I would have my cabinet of other porcelain figures moved into the new apartment. I may not have had a groom for her, but at least I would have a family for her. A bit rough around the edges, maybe a few chips and breaks here or there, and a rather random gathering of characters, but it was still a good family.

She would fit in just fine, even without her groom. Though I would like to find him for her someday.

Still, even if I didn’t at least her expression would always be a happy one again. She was finally surrounded by loved ones again.