Page 84 - Philly Girl

68 Janice Shapiro

got a reliably good workout. I loved these classes and needed
them; they were my healthy “addiction.” I went with my two
actress friends, Faye and Janet. At that time, I was a nurse
midwife and teacher. (Sometimes I would bring my students
to class. We all had beepers and sometimes they went off
simultaneously, letting us know a woman was in labor at
San Francisco General. Off we would go. Dancing had to
wait.) Sometimes, after class, we would head straight to Just
Desserts for the perfect chocolate cake, feeling justified that
now we could make room for those calories.
On the morning of my marriage to Dennis, I went to an
8:30 a.m. Rhythm and Motion class to steady my nerves.
Faye and Janet were both scheduled to take part in the wed-
ding—Faye was to hold one part of the chuppah (made with
my mother’s tablecloth) and Janet was to announce to the
seated guests that the ceremony was about to begin. She
would also signal to Faye’s boyfriend to begin playing the
cassette we had chosen (Chariots of Fire) for our wedding
processional music.
The wedding was called for 10 in the morning on a Sun-
day. Chronically late, I came trotting in to my house at 9:45
a.m., sweating, still in my dance clothes. I had to shower and
change into my sister’s wedding gown—lent to me for the
occasion—which had a million little cloth buttons on the
back! I spotted all of my guests in the garden and got the
giggles as I rushed to be on time to my own wedding. Den-
nis stood outside greeting guests, in an all-white tuxedo and
white ankle boots, dressed like John Lennon on the cover of
Abbey Road. He was grinning from ear to ear, and he looked
both super silly and ridiculously handsome. He reassured
each guest: “Yes, Jan just came back from her dance class,
she will be here any minute. Don’t worry!”
Here’s what sticks in my mind from that day: my mother
asking me if I was sure of my decision (I was) and my father