No Objection [FICTION]

Did I just become a cliché? Standing in front of the altar, decked out in the most perfect white dress, I smile at my fiancé, my groom, my Barney. He smiles back. Then the preacher offers up those words that require no response.

"Should anyone here present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace."

In that moment, a scuffle erupts from the back of the room. The doors bang open and a familiar voice declares. “I object.”

My smile morphs into a snarl as I turn to face the intruder. Dressed in his version of formal wear—wrinkled slacks and an equally wrinkled polo, Tom smiles at me. His toothy grin and desperately hopeful gaze reminds me why our relationship only lasted a week. He holds out his lanky arms toward me as if I will run into them and allow him to whisk me away.

“You can’t marry anyone but me, Jennie. No one loves you like I do.” He calls out as every eye in the room turns from him to me.

After a quick glance at my face, my brothers drop the arms of their respective bridesmaids and start down the aisle toward him. Built like linebackers, they make the aisle appear narrow as they calmly approach their quarry. Tom peers between them to meet my eyes. I frown at him but know any verbal response from me will only encourage him. 

Barney reaches over to take my hand. As my attention turns to him, he mouths “Who is that?”

“A guy dated for a week, years ago,” I whisper.

My best friend snickers from her place of honor at my side. The sound gets drowned out by continued assertions that my husband doesn’t deserve me and that I will never be happy without my ex. The more Tom talks, the tighter Barney holds my hand.

Tom breaks off pleading with me to greet my brothers as they reach him. Trying to maintain some semblance of decorum, they whisper to him. He shakes his head and opens his mouth to say something more, but he swallows his words as my brothers each grab an arm and heft him back out the door.

“Jennie, I will always be waiting for you. You’ll come back to me. You’ll see.”

Silence falls as the doors close behind the trio. The rest of the congregation remains fixed on them, waiting for Tom to return and offer another free show. After what seems an eternity, my brothers return without their cargo. They smile at each pew on their way past, offering a thumbs up of reassurance to all our guests. When they reach us in front of the altar, they lean between Barney and I to address the minister.

“Don’t worry, Father, we’re good to go here.” My oldest brother winks as he delivers this reassurance.

The minister regards him with skeptical eyes before whispering timidly. “No one ever objects. What do I do when they object?”

My oldest brother shrugs, “I don’t think it matters in this case…”

My other brother clears his throat and stage whispers, “In case you are wondering how we got rid of Tom so quickly, some nice men from his psychiatric hospital were looking for him. A man who isn’t in his right mind has no right to object.”

Those closest to the altar giggle and then the news washes in a wave of whispered voices until the people in the back know what was said. Then silence reigns again and the minister calls our attention back to him. He acknowledges that an objection was raised but found invalid. Then he picks up the pace and our vows fly by. We kiss briefly before he turns us toward our friends and families and introduces us as husband and wife.

“Husband and wife.” I whisper excitedly as we grab hands and rush down the aisle.

“I lucked out. I gather I had some competition.” He whispers into my ear as our chauffeur opens the door of the limo.

“No one could compete with you.” I lean in to kiss him.

The chauffeur clears his throat to separate us long enough to help us into the car and whisk us away.

~~~

Clearly, I am on a June weddings kick. Pondering whether next year’s posts should all be teaser parts of a whole culminating in a chance to purchase the entire story. What say ye, noble readers, could I earn a few extra dollars for Christmas with my groovy writing? Or does my use of the word groovy prove that can’t happen?

Déjà June [FICTION]

Another day. Another bride. White flowers. Perfectly draped bunting. Double check with the minister. Last minute encouragement to both the bride and her shy flower girl. Cue the music. Watch the happy couple take turns walking down the aisle. Tears flow. Hugs are exchanged. Off to the reception.

This morning as I anticipated the perfection of this day, I realized that being a wedding planner sapped the romance from my own life. If I don’t get it back, will I be able to help my customers have the perfect day they deserve? I am still contemplating this as my assistant Evelyn and I supervise the wedding reception from a tiny table against the wall.

As we share a toast of sparkling white grape juice, Evelyn places her hand over mine. “You okay today, Wendy?”

I force a smile. “Of course. We created another happily married bride.”

“Yet something’s off.”

I shrug.

“You know what you need?”

“Another slice of cake?”

“No, someone to sweep you off your feet.”

“I create the illusion of a Hallmark movie. I don’t need to live in one.”

“Ah. Come on. It will make you love weddings again.” She smiles and wiggles the fingers on her left hand at me.

Her engagement ring catches the light in all the right ways. I grin a little as I remember how excited she was to tell me that I would finally be planning her wedding. And here she sits, still beaming like a new bride five years later.

“Maybe you’re right,” I huff, “But that isn’t going to make a man appear out of the woodwork to whisk me off to the land of love.”

“About that.” She grins as she looks over my shoulder and leans in to whisper discretely. “Someone has been watching you all evening and I think he has finally decided to make his move.”

“Huh?”

Before she does more than grin back at me, someone clears their throat behind me.

“I better go check on that second piece of cake for you,” Evelyn pats my hand again before she disappears.

I turn around to face the brother of the bride. My brows furrow as I look at him. My heart flutters a little because his face reminds me of classic movie star, but my stomach grumbles worriedly because I am certain I have at least a decade on him.

“Wendy, right?” He asks.

“Um, yes.” I can’t stifle the apprehension in my voice.

“You put together a lovely wedding for my sister.”

The apprehension calms down—surely, he just wants to thank me for making his sister’s dreams come true. It is rarely the brother who feels compelled to do so but not unreasonable. “Thank you. She knew what she wanted, which always makes it easier.”

“How about you? Do you know what you want?”

Confused, I laugh gently, putting both hands over my heart as if it needs protection.

His lips turn up at the corner, and he holds out his hand to me. I reach out to shake it as he asks, “I was hoping it wouldn’t be inappropriate to ask you to dance.”

He takes my hand and I forget to speak, but he hears my consent. Despite the slow pace of the song, the words don’t invoke romance.

“I’m Forrest, btw,” he introduces himself.

I snicker.

“Please, don’t say it.” He smiles at me but his eyes narrow slightly.

“Say what?” I ask innocently.

“If you say it, I will…” he grins and winks at me.

“We wouldn’t want that, would we?”

“I hope not. Give a guy a chance.”

“Sure.” I return his smile and lean a little further into the dance.

By the time he returns me to my table, Evelyn has returned with three slices of cake. “Please join us.” She gestures between Forrest and the third slice of cake.

I glare at her as Forrest turns to smile at his sister and new brother-in-law dominating the dance floor. She sticks her tongue out in return.

“You said you wanted a second piece of cake.”

I glare at her one more time. By the time, Forrest turns his attention back to us, I already have a healthy bite in my mouth. He peers at what is left of my cake, jabs his fork into his own healthy bite, and salutes me with it before It disappears into his mouth.

~~~

Romance isn’t really my thing, but I could eke out some more romance—a veritable Hallmark movie—if you wanted. Just let me know :)

Of Best Friends and Weddings: Part II [FICTION]

Read Part 1, here!

After a couple of minutes, murmurs break the stillness. Restless feet tap out a soft rhythm as impatience fills the assembled guests. Some bob their heads up and down, trying to decide whether or not to turn toward the back of the sanctuary. Others take the opportunity to slip their phones out of purses or pockets, staring down at little screens with zero interest in the events transpiring near at hand. John squeezes my hand as snippets of conversation reach our ears.

“What is going on?”

“That must be his ex.” My cheeks burn as more eyes turn toward me.

“No. That is the bride’s brother’s ex.”

“Huh?”

“The one who…” The voice fades to an indiscernible whisper, but I know the lies it conveys.

“Oh! Her!”

I grit my teeth to keep my own thoughts from escaping through my lips. 

John leans in to whisper in my ear. “Ignore them. Pay attention to me.” 

He squeezes my hand softly, leaning into me. I bite my tongue, afraid I won’t be able to hold back much longer. Mama appears in the doorway and gestures toward me. Every eye turns  back toward me. John takes my hand as I shuffle toward Mama with my head down.

When I am close enough, Mama leans in to whisper, “I think we ALL need to talk, sweetheart.”

“All?” I squeak.

“Yes, they are waiting.”

I follow her to a small room labeled “Bride’s Room”. I hesitate and John pulls me back toward the door. “We’ve got this.”

Mama raps on the door. “We are coming in.”

As I step inside, I see Caroline and Tom standing on opposite sides of the room. Though her eyes are now dry, streams of mascara transform her into a raccoon rather than a blushing bride. Her mouth twists into a pout as her eyes meet mine.

As I waver, turning back toward the open door, Mama grabs my hand and pulls me into the room. John steps in front of me, as if to protect me from Caroline as he gives her a once over. He relaxes a little as he takes in her petite frame and tear-streaked face. Mama steps behind me to pull the door closed and barricade it with her body. She crosses her arms defiantly.

“No one leaves this room until I am satisfied as to whether or not my son is getting married today.”

“That’s up to him.” I croak.

Tom stands silently, looking from Caroline to me with wounded eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He almost whispers as sad eyes focus on Caroline’s face.

“I didn’t know.” An almost inaudible whisper.

“Really?” His voice rises. “You saw pictures of Tara and I at her wedding…hanging out…”

“By that time, I was in love with you. I didn’t think you would marry me if you knew who I was and what I had done.”

John grips my hand tighter at her words. I step back into him and he wraps his arms around me. I sink into the protective bubble of his arms, leaning my head back against his chest as I grip his hand tighter.

“You admit that you lied,” I snort, “Finally!”

“You know how we were.” Caroline whines. "We were always so competitive and then you broke Vince’s heart.”

“He broke up with me,” I sneer.

“Oh.” Her eyes widen. “That isn’t how he told it.”

“So you told everyone that I cheated on him and stole from you?” 

Caroline starts to cry. “I’m sorry. So sorry. Tara, please…” She blubbers into unintelligible pleas, presumably for forgiveness.

But are those tears real? I step forward to peer into her face, confused and unwilling to forget the past, stopping as John pulls me back in protectively. The tears look real enough, gleaming in the corner of her eyes before rolling down her cheeks. She glances at me and then steps toward Tom, reaching out her hand for his. She turns those wet eyes back to him as he stares at her open hand without moving to take it. She manages to compose herself and lowers her hand, clasping it tightly with the other as she breathes deeply and begins her pleas anew.

“I couldn’t tell you about Tara and I. By the time I realized you were that Tom, I was already in love with you. Please! Forgive me! Marry me!” She sinks to her knees in front of him, slipping off her engagement ring off to proffer it to him.

Tom’s features soften. Then he turns to me, awaiting my response. I bite my lip, my eyes riveted on the ring. It has the tiniest diamond I have ever seen. Though she wrapped a curtain around herself to hide her dress, I note that she chose a simple hairstyle and light makeup that doesn’t try to hide the years that have transpired since we last spoke. 

“You really have changed?” I question my own realization though the woman before me doesn’t share the same tastes as the woman I knew.

“I have.” She bites her lip. “I will go out there right now and confess to everyone that you didn’t really cheat on Vince or steal from me. I should have done it long ago, but…”

“You were afraid…” I finish for her.

She nods her head. “But I wanted you here. Just as much as I wanted you here.” She turns to Tom, pleading with wide, tear-filled eyes.

“I do love you.” He whispers to her, looking to me apologetically. “But you…”

“I didn’t set out to lie to you. Please.” She begs again and then they both turn to me.

“You would really tell everyone out there the truth…”

“Yes.” She interrupts breathlessly hopeful.

“…on your wedding day.”

She nods, gripping the curtain tighter around herself and stepping toward the door where Mama still stands guard. “I will tell them right now.”

“I will tell them,” Mama says, refusing to yield the door, as she looks to me. “If you want me to.”

“I don’t want today to be about me.” I demur as John gives me a reassuring hug.

“So my son is getting married today?” Mama looks at me.

I look to Tom, shrugging my shoulders. “You know her better than I do. Do you want to marry her?”

He blinks back tears as he nods his head.

“So you’ll marry me?” Caroline asks, slipping the ring back on her finger as Tom nods again.

“We should get this going before the guests give up and leave,” Mama opens the door.

“I have one more big favor to ask.” Caroline says, offering me a hopeful smile.

I narrow my eyes, “How big?”

“I need a maid of honor.”

“What?” I choke out the word.

“I have a dress.” She looks me up and down. “And I think I guessed the size right.”

Caroline reaches toward a garment bag hanging from an oversized hook on the wall. She pulls down the zipper to reveal a cocktail dress in a soft blue. 

“Ummm…” I look at John doubtfully.

He shrugs. “That color would look gorgeous on you.”

Mama reaches out to take my free hand. She mouths three words to me, “An olive branch.”

I nod my head and reach for the dress. “I guess I can be a bridesmaid…”

“Maid of honor…” Caroline corrects me.

“…but it will be awkward…”

“I know, but I had always hoped….” I read the memory of weddings we had planned in our youth in her eyes.

I nod my head. “That I could take attention off of you on your wedding day.” I murmur as the irony hits me.

“My own fault.” She replies.

“I better go finish getting dressed,” Tom says, nodding toward John.

“I’ll go with you, so the ladies can get ready.” John gives me arm one last squeeze on his way out.

“Let me help you,” Caroline offers as Mama closes the door behind the men.

“You will not. You will sit down, so I can fix your make-up.” Mama commands, stepping forward to grab tissues and makeup remover from the vanity. “Tara can wait to be zipped until you are gorgeous for those wedding photos I plan to have all over my house to show my grandkids.” She prattles on as she goes to work.

I slide off the simple dress I chose for this event. Slipping the blue silk over my hips and onto my shoulders, I realize Caroline guessed my measurements correctly. I slide the zipper as far up as I can before turning to watch Mama work her magic. Soon no hint of Caroline’s tears remain.

Mama continues to direct us until we both meet with her approval. As we step into the hallway, we are greeted by two bridesmaids in slightly simpler versions of my dress and two groomsmen. They eye my curiously. The best man grins at me as I realize John has been roped into being part of the wedding party as well. He reaches for my arm as Mama begins offering whispered orders to each of us. She lines us up behind Tom, casting a warning glance at Caroline as she peeks out of the bride’s room.

“You wait until someone raps on that door before you come into this hallway, young lady.”

Caroline nods and slips back behind the door before gently closing it.

Mama takes Tom’s arm and guides him toward the door. “Walk your mother down the aisle to appease some gossipmongers.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says softly.

They walk calmly to the front of the chapel. I see heads turning to peer back toward the door, but Mama clears her throat loudly and holds up her hands.

“This is a wedding. A time for the uniting of two families. A time, apparently, for forgiveness. Caroline has asked Tara to be her maid of honor,” She makes a disapproving cluck as murmurs spread through the chapel. “The two have put aside the past. You should do the same. Tara is a wonderful girl and never stole from her friend. Save your gossip and speculation for tomorrow. Today, we celebrate the marriage of my son…”

She lets her unspoken warning fall over the crowd. 

When silence reigns again, she motions for the pianist to begin playing the wedding march and the wedding begins…

Finally, the conclusion of our tale from a couple of months ago. I hope you enjoy it. I also hope the Corona Blues aren't keeping you down. 

Of Best Friends and Weddings [FICTION]

“I’m not sure I should be here.” I whisper to my husband John as he links his elbow with mine.

“It’s your best friend’s wedding.” He leans into me and kisses my cheek. “He wants you here.”

“But his girlfriends always get the wrong idea.” I hiss.

“Surely, this one knows you are harmless. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have been fiancé.” He grins.

I nod. “That’s true.” I lean in to smooch his cheek.

“I’m sure she isn’t half as beautiful as you though.” He kisses me back, letting his lips linger on mine.

“I did find it odd that they didn’t send an engagement picture with the invite.”

“Not everyone does that.”

“Everyone else I know does.” I respond.

He shrugs his shoulders, clearly unconcerned by this breach of protocol. As we approach the heavy wooden doors leading into the church, I stare intently into the opening. As we approach the ushers, I look away from the interior into a familiar smiling face.

“Bride’s side,” my old boyfriend Vince tells the gangly teenage boy at his side.

“This way,” the disinterested teen says as he steps in front of us.

“Um, no.” My brows furrow as I look at Vince.

“You are here to see Caroline get married, aren’t you?”

“Your sister, Caroline?” I squeak.

“We’re here for the groom, actually,” my husband looks from my face to Vince’s questioningly. “You know each other?”

“This is Vince,” I mutter.

“Oh.” My husband stands up taller, assessing Vince with discerning eyes. “Oh. That means Caroline…”

“…is the bride.” I mumble.

“Your Caroline?” He asks.

I nod my head.

Vince’s smile no longer clings to his face. Confusion takes its place. “Caroline told me you guys had come to an understanding.”

“An understanding that we would never speak again.” I inform him. “Or see each other.”

“Oh. Then…” He looks at John. “You must know the groom.”

John snorts. “You guys dated and you don’t know that Tom is her best friend?”

“Wait. What?” Vince’s mouth hangs open. “Thomas Carter is your Tommy.”

I bristle. “If you had trusted me about Tom, I wouldn’t have met John.” I sneer as old emotions flood over me. “So thanks for being a jealous tool.”

“i think we better show ourselves to our seats.” John glances at a couple who pauses at a discreet distance to watch the show unfold.

“I don’t want to sit down.” I hiss.

Vince snickers. “Good luck with that, man. I need to help someone who isn’t crazy.”

“Come on, sweetie,” John slides his hand into mine and gently pulls me toward a seat on the righthand side of the chapel.

I follow him into the pew but take the seat on the aisle and sit. He tries to coax me further but I refuse to move. He sits down next to me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

“You never told me what exactly Caroline did,” he whispers.

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“I’m your husband. Try me.” He leans in to better hear my answer.

“She poisoned her brother and this town against me,” I incline my head toward the nearest guests.

The organist warming up the pipes makes enough noise to drown out the whispers, but no amount of chaos could make me unaware of the stares, the lips moving swiftly with decades old gossip as their eyes can see only me, and the sideways stares of those wise enough to keep their mouths shut. John looks around and then back to me. His jaw clenches.

“So you being at her wedding…”

“…makes no sense.”

“Unless she wants you here for some reason.” John frowns and glances toward the front of the chapel where the bride will stand.

“I can’t let this happen.”

“I agree.” John takes my hand and pulls me to my feet. “Let’s go.”

“I can’t leave until I stop this wedding.”

He sighs and grips my hand in his. “Honey, please, I have seen the way you get when you think of her. Don’t do whatever…”

His words dissipate as I pull him in my wake. I stalk to the front pew, where Tommy’s mom sits elegantly attired to celebrate her only son’s big day. My heart lurches as I realize what I am about to do. As I reach her, I fall to me knees. I feel like a little girl again, visiting my best friend and hoping his mom will give me one of the cookies I can smell on the air. But I don’t smell cookies. I only smell the cloying sweetness of flowers and perfume.

“I’m sorry, dear, I don’t have room for cookies in this.” She holds up a sequined navy clutch and reaches out to pull one tight curl that dangles by my cheek.

“I don’t need cookies, mama. I might need you to help me.”

“With what, dear?” She smiles softly, but her smile fades as she surveys my face. “What’s wrong?”

“Hopefully nothing.” Hope that Caroline has changed embeds itself in my heart as I take a deep, cleansing breath. “I assume you have met your future daughter-in-law?”

“Of course, dear.”

I open my mouth but can’t find the words to ask. My mouth won’t speak words that could break her heart.

With my own heart in my throat, I ask. “Has she mentioned me?”

Grey brows knit together as she ponders my question. “Why should she?”

“We went to school together.”

“Really? I was under the impression she went to a private school.”

“Caroline Logan’s parents couldn’t afford private school.”

Mama takes her feet at those words. “Logan? Her last name isn’t Dottson?”

“It wasn’t when I knew her.”

“Then she has been married before?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

Mama’s jaw tightens. “Excuse me, dear, I have to go talk with my son.”

My jaw drops as I watch her walk away.

“I feel like I better get ready for some fireworks,” John whispers in my ear. “Unless I can convince you to leave this place with me.”

“No chance.” I whisper as I realize most eyes in the room have refocused on me now that Mama has disappeared.

I ignore them, clutching John’s arm as I stare toward the back of the sanctuary and await my fate.

~~~

I got a little side-tracked by life, so this piece might turn into a two part series or leave you wondering forever. Feel free to vote in the comments.

Finally wrestled part II from my muse!

Always With Me

She is more than just a mother

Because she is always with me

In the world, there is no other

Who I know is always with me

Any time I wander, I know I can return

Because she is always with me

For in my heart, love will always burn

Just for this woman who is always with me

So when I stood as a blushing bride

I knew that she would be with me

Because the one who is by my side

Is my mother who is always with me

No matter how many miles keep us apart

This woman will always be with me

For she has a home inside my heart

That makes her remain ever with me

My mother should be celebrating her birthday today, but she didn't quite make it to help us celebrate. I wrote this poem to remind her that I love her shortly after my wedding. She seemed to like it so I thought I would share it with you. I know it isn't fiction, but I am a little distracted right now, so I know my dear readers will forgive me.