Wedding Woes

by JJ Chow

  “Oh no, nothing like that,” she said. “We all froze until the noise ended. Nobody got hurt, but I can still hear ringing.” She rubbed at her ears.

  Gaffey joined them, and Winston restrained from scowling at the cop for ruining the intimate moment.

  “Kristy,” the policeman said, softening his tone at her name.

  She looked at Gaffey. Winston saw the cop freeze, noticed the man almost stop breathing. It must be Kristy’s exquisiteness, that emerald dress highlighting her natural fresh beauty.

  Kristy pulled Winston close to her as she spoke. “Thank goodness my groom-to-be came to protect me . . . But what are you doing here, Mark?”

  Gaffey looked back and forth between the two of them. “You’re really getting married? I thought my great-aunt was joking. And to that guy?” He jerked his thumb at Winston.

  Winston looped his arm around Kristy’s waist. “The big day is tomorrow.”

  “I still don’t understand,” Kristy said, addressing Gaffey, whose mouth had dropped open. “Why did you come to the wedding rehearsal?”

  Gaffey shook his head a few times, maybe to clear it. “Got a call, neighborhood disturbance. Some screaming.”

  Kristy shuddered. “I heard it.” Her gaze dropped down to the green grass at her feet. “From the shack, right? Was it the Chan family?”

  Winston nodded. He wanted to draw her even closer as he spoke his next words. “The father had a fall. An ambulance took him to the hospital. Mrs. Chan’s with him right now.”

  Kristy wrung her hands. Her elegant fingers twisted together. “I wish I could do something for them.”

  Always so sweet. She thought of everyone else first. “What about the scare here?” Winston asked. “I want to make sure you’re okay.”

  Kristy shrugged it off. “That was nothing. A few balloons got popped on the wedding arch.”

  Marcy swooped in at this point. “More than just a couple.” She sighed and gestured to a space beyond the clearing, hidden behind some towering trees. “The whole arch is gone. Only the frame is left.”

  “They’re just balloons,” Kristy said.

  Winston could see Marcy switch into problem-solving mode. A frown spread across her face. “This wedding will be perfect if I have anything to do with it.”

  Marcy narrowed her eyes at Gaffey. “Officer,” she said, giving him a brief head nod. His sister didn’t have any lost love for the cop, not after he’d come so late to the crime scene during the Magnolia Lane case.

  Kristy bit her lips. They were a sweet pink color. “I would be able to concentrate more on the balloons if I knew someone was taking care of the Chans.”

  Gaffey shifted his feet to a wider stance. “I’ll escort their car to the hospital. With sirens blaring, they’ll get there in no time.”

  Kristy gave the cop a grateful smile, and Winston felt his stomach roil. Without thinking, he piped up. “And I’ll drive them to the hospital. None of them are in the right frame of mind to handle a car right now.”

  Kristy turned to Winston, her smile growing wider. She gave him a peck on the cheek. “You’re the best,” she said. “Now, I won’t worry at all. Once you finish, head over to the restaurant, and we can enjoy our rehearsal dinner.”

  Winston touched his forehead against hers. The silky strands of her hair tickled his ears. “I’ll see you soon.”

  Turning around, Winston noticed a sullen look on Gaffey’s face. But then the cop rearranged his features into an impassive look. Without saying anything, Gaffey marched off in the direction of the Mystery Shack.

  CHAPTER 8

  WINSTON AND GAFFEY showed up around the same time at the Mystery Shack and informed the Chan family about their plan. Everyone thanked them for helping.

  Fort took charge and told Winston that he’d ride shotgun in the car to provide directions.

  “Follow me to our parking spot,” he said to Winston, but his hand gesture encompassed all his siblings. They trailed after Fort’s hulk of a build, with Winston at the rear a few paces behind. Huffing under his breath, Winston cursed the Buddha belly he possessed.

  Winston examined the dirty van parked at the curb. The white exterior paint had faded away, and it now showed a dull gray from the layer underneath. To add insult to injury, a flock of birds seemed to have used the car for target practice.

  Winston slid into the driver’s seat and wrinkled his nose. The whole car reeked of corn chips and sweat. He also noticed a mass of bug bodies smeared across the windshield. “Did you drive all the way here?” he asked Fort, who’d buckled in next to him.

  “Yep. San Gabriel Valley in Los Angeles.”

  “A long drive?” Winston asked as he adjusted the seat and mirrors.

  “Six hours with these guys?” Fort jerked his thumb back at the rest of the family. “Not my idea of a joyride.”

  Winston peeked over his shoulder to make sure everyone had settled into the back of the van. “Don’t you all run a business? Work together every day? I figured you’d be a solid family unit.”

  Fort grunted. “Some of us do more than others at the job.” He glared at Bright behind him, and his brother frowned. The grim look Bright gave Fort matched the funereal black he wore.

  Tal spoke up. “We run different areas of the business.” He rubbed his forehead as he spoke. Winston hoped the man wouldn’t spread muscle rub there by accident, too. That would not help the already stuffy odor in the vehicle.

  Winston started the engine and tried to turn on the AC, to no avail. Instead, he rolled down the windows. Maybe the slight breeze as they drove along would cleanse the air.

  The silence in the car grew heavier by the minute. Winston could almost feel the weight of anxiety from all the passengers stuck in the cramped van.

  Though Fort had claimed the role of navigator, the man stared out the window with a blank gaze. It didn’t matter. Gaffey’s flashing lights blazed an easy trail for Winston to follow.

  To lighten the atmosphere, Winston asked the group, “So, how’s your vacation been so far? Er, besides this incident . . .”

  “Vacation?” Fort turned his attention from the window and to Winston. “Don’t you know? This is a work retreat for us.”

  Winston frowned. “But your mom said—”

  Tal groaned, and Winston looked over to see him hunch in his seat and smack his forehead with vigorous slaps. “To set things straight, Orchid’s our stepmom.”

  “Oh, right. She’s mom to”—Winston ticked the names off—“Sandy, Evan, Lyle, and Viv.”

  “Us alpha males,” Fort said, “are from a better set of genes.”

  Winston heard snorts from the others in the van. “I stand corrected. This trip is for work?”

  Sandy answered first. “Correct.”

  Peeking in the rearview mirror, Winston saw her stretch into a pose. Could she do yoga even strapped into a car?

  She continued, “Ming wanted us to get inspired by the Mystery Shack. We drove all the way from LA to see it.”

  Winston paused with his hands at the ten-and-two position on the wheel. “You mean to say your vacation is all about seeing that measly shack?”

  Lyle held up his camera. “It was beautiful. So weird and wonderful. I got a few amazing snaps.”

  Winston scratched the back of his neck. Should he tell them? Pricked by his conscience, he said, “There’s actually a larger and more authentic version. It’s called the Winchester Mystery House.”

  “Of course there is,” Evan said. He didn’t seem ruffled by Winston’s words. Maybe his constant meditation kept him on an even keel.

  Winston should ask him for tips before the big day tomorrow. “You’re so calm about this info.”

  “We know the shack’s a fake,” Evan said.

  Winston heard Viv blowing bubbles. She must have pulled out some gum during the ride. “Yeah,” she said. “Ming does this often, shows us different kinds of knockoffs.”

  Hmm, strange. But maybe . . . “Is it some sort of family bon
ding ritual then?” Winston asked.

  Fort guffawed and elbowed Winston in the ribs. He cried out in pain and almost lost control of the car.

  At the last minute, Winston corrected the steering wheel. His ribs would definitely hurt during the ceremony tomorrow.

  “What’s so funny?” Winston asked.

  Sandy stretched around her seatbelt and yoga’ed her way to holding a feathered purse in his peripheral vision. “The whole trip was to see if we’d be inspired to create a new line of goods. We make fakes.”

  Bright grumbled. “Without quality material.”

  Evan sighed and said, “And all the employees are paid so little.”

  Fort shushed his brothers. “We make genuine knockoff bags.” An oxymoron, but Winston let it go.

  They were almost at the hospital now. He could see the building at the road’s corner and took a quick glance at the lot. Mostly full, but he was a master of the parking roulette. Confident of his ability, he pulled into the lot and asked, “So, was the Mystery Shack inspirational?”

  “Yeah,” Fort replied. “I’m thinking we could build a mini Taj Mahal.”

  Viv groaned. “What about fragrances instead? A different one for every mood.” She spritzed on some more of her rose perfume, and Winston stifled the urge to sneeze. Good thing he’d spied an open spot. He couldn’t park the car fast enough.

  While Winston turned off the engine, Tal said, “I don’t know. How can we work even more than we already do? Build something new? Everyone’s taxed, and Ba needs to retire soon.”

  “If he survives,” Bright said.

  Viv shot him a miffed look.

  “Life and death. Part of the same cycle.”

  Time to go before a fight broke out. Winston unlocked the doors. They all shuffled into the hospital in a somber mood.

  CHAPTER 9

  THE HOSPITAL GLARED white when they entered the facility. Maybe the clean vibe would inspire hope in the Chan family. Winston looked around the expansive space, trying to figure out where to go or who to ask.

  Gaffey was one step ahead of him, already approaching what looked like an information desk. Fort must have seen the policeman, too, because he soon joined the cop. At the desk, Fort started talking, but the receptionist appeared flustered.

  Except for Fort, the other Chans seemed confused and uncertain about what to do. A few of them moved closer to Winston, while others roamed the lobby. He guessed a hospital visit wasn’t on the checklist for their work retreat.

  Suddenly, an annoying sharp whistle sounded, and Winston looked around to find the source. Covering his ears, he noticed Gaffey pulling his fingers away from his mouth. None of the other patients and visitors dared comment on the cop’s behavior, probably because they saw his uniform.

  Gaffey called out, “Come on.” He beckoned to the Chan family.

  “You, too, driver,” he said to Winston.

  They followed Gaffey to a set of elevators and crowded inside a lift. Once they arrived at the appropriate floor, they filed into a small waiting room.

  The walls were gray, and the painted prints on them uninspired. The chairs were empty except for Orchid sitting in the corner, crying. Mascara ran down her face, although she tried to wipe away the mess when she noticed them.

  She stood up and looked at Gaffey. “Officer, what are you doing here?”

  “Call me Mark,” he said. “I escorted your family to the hospital. I knew it’d be quicker with my patrol car leading the way.”

  She blinked at him. “How do you even know about my husband’s fall?”

  “Ah, I got called to the shack on account of a noise disturbance. A woman screaming.”

  Orchid swiped at her eyes. “My husband, he fell down the stairs. Too terrible.”

  Orchid’s biological children moved in and fluttered around her, but Winston noticed her stepkids kept their distance. The odd family dynamics made the hair on the back of his neck rise, but he shook away the icy feeling.

  After her kids ministered to Orchid, she calmed down. She turned to Winston. “Why aren’t you at your wedding rehearsal?”

  “My fiancée asked me to help your family, so I drove the van.” Winston gave himself a mental pat on the back. He made a sweeping gesture that encompassed the Chan children. “Nobody could agree on who should drive.”

  A hint of irritation crept into Orchid’s voice. “Figures,” she said, giving Fort a disgusted look. “Second in command, and you can’t even lead.”

  Fort balled his hands into fists, moving to tower over his stepmother. “I’m not here for your criticism. How is Ba doing?”

  “He’s . . .” Orchid sighed and sat back down in her chair. She slumped.

  Evan whispered a few mantras to her. Sandy went over to the nearby water cooler and filled up a thin paper cup. Lyle tried to place his arm around Orchid’s shoulder without bumping his camera into her. Viv sat down next to Orchid and held her mother’s hands.

  Winston wanted to jump in and say something empathetic. He moved near Orchid and spoke in a soft voice. “This must be hard for you. I understand Ming was going to retire soon.”

  Instead of calming her, his words made Orchid burst into tears. She dropped Viv’s hand and covered her face with her palms. Viv stared at her rejected fingers, her hand perched awkwardly on the chair’s armrest.

  “Why’d you say that to her?” Tal whispered to Winston, pulling out a handkerchief and handing it to Orchid.

  While she blew her nose, Gaffey raised his eyebrows at Winston. The cop pointed at Winston’s shoe and then Winston’s lips. Winston’s face grew hot.

  Winston needed to heal Orchid’s mood, help her feel better. “I’m sure it’ll turn out all right in the end,” he said. “Before you know it, you’ll be going on your senior cruises and travels after he recovers.”

  Orchid sniffed. “I hope so. We did want to do one of those China tours—the ones where you wake up bright and early each day.”

  The super deals where you go off to the major sights, crammed with buying “opportunities” throughout the trip. Winston got flyers in the mail from those tour companies all the time.

  Orchid blew her nose with one big honk on the handkerchief. “The doctor will come out soon. They didn’t tell me much in the beginning. Or maybe I couldn’t understand. Too much information being thrown at me.”

  Gaffey remained standing, but Winston and the others decided to sit down. On the hard, plastic chairs. He thought the hospital could have afforded better furniture, knowing that family members and friends might be sitting for a long time. He looked around at the Chan children to see how they were coping with the uncomfortable seats.

  Some of them seemed frozen: Fort overflowed in his chair, Bright appeared a grim statue, Evan achieved a Zen state, and Sandy perched cross-legged. The others kept fidgeting: Tal pulled a mini-massager out of his murse, Lyle flipped through photos on his camera, and Viv blew giant bubbles with her gum.

  Finally, the doctor came. He looked weary as he entered and made a straight line to Orchid. “Your husband’s still unconscious and in critical condition, Mrs. Chan.” The doctor rubbed at the stubble on his chin. “You’ll have to wait some more, I’m afraid.”

  Orchid’s voice cracked. “How much longer?”

  “I’m not sure.” The doctor glanced at the wall clock. “But I advise getting some food in your stomach.”

  That’s when Winston’s phone rang: “Chances Are.” His special ringtone for Kristy. The doctor wagged his finger at Winston before he headed out, pointing at a sign that read, “Silence your cell phones.” Oops.

  Winston moved over to the side of the room for a bit of privacy. “Everything okay?”

  “Lovely. Your sister’s gone to the store to buy extra balloons. What about on your end?”

  “Sadly, Mr. Chan’s in critical condition. No word on how long of a wait. In fact, the doctor told Mrs. Chan she should probably get something to eat—”

  “Perfect. That’s what we’ll
do then,” Kristy said.

  “Huh?”

  “Invite them to our rehearsal dinner. Marcy can drive your car while you take the Chans. I’ll call the restaurant right now. I’m sure they won’t mind more customers.”

  “But our budget . . .” Winston tried to calculate the figures in his head, but Kristy was better with finances.

  “Don’t worry, it’ll work out,” she said. “Which hospital are you at?”

  “San Jose Central.”

  “Great, that’s close to Sambal. Feeding them is the least we can do during their time of difficulty.”

  Winston sucked air in through his teeth. “Okay, so that will be an extra eight people.”

  “Nine,” she said.

  “I think you miscounted. Mr. Chan needs to stay in the hospital.”

  “No, there’s someone else. Go and invite—”

  “Uh-uh. I don’t think so.”

  “Mark deserves it. He was so kind to them.”

  Winston glanced over at the cop who hovered nearby. Gaffey must have overheard the conversation because his face erupted in a huge grin. Winston couldn’t back out now and show tension in his relationship with Kristy. “Fine.”

  “Thank you, Winston.” She made a smooching noise.

  Winston hoped the phone kiss would fortify him for the upcoming crazy dinner.

  CHAPTER 10

  WINSTON INVITED THE Chan family for dinner at Sambal. The younger generation readily agreed, but Orchid hesitated. “We should wait here,” she said.

  Fort shook his head. “Ba won’t even notice.”

  Sandy placed a hand on her mom’s shoulder. “Fort’s right. And you look exhausted. Even the doctor told us to get dinner.”

  Orchid nodded. “Maybe you’re right.”

  Mrs. Chan tagged behind them as they left the waiting room and exited the hospital. On the sidewalk outside, Winston said, “I can drive the family.”

  Orchid shook her head. “You don’t have to. I’m sure you’re swamped with wedding details.”