Dog Day Wedding

by Rich Amooi

  Stevie wagged his finger at Giovanni. “Maybe to you. But to the owner of this car there is nothing more important in life.”

  “Sounds pretty pathetic to me. Come on, let’s go.”

  They entered the main building and passed through the tasting room to the cellar. Giovanni pointed to some empty seats and the boys followed him and sat.

  Giovanni's heartbeat kicked up a notch. Jacks was at the front of the cellar near the altar talking with the pastor and his best man. Giovanni looked around the room for his mom. He could hear her words echoing in his head.

  If you don’t stop the wedding, I will! I want grandchildren! Do you hear me?

  Would she show up? Hell yeah, she would.

  The pastor spoke into the microphone. “Good evening. The ceremony is about to commence so if you could please silence your cell phones—that would be fantastic. There usually isn’t any cell phone coverage here in the cellar, but just in case. Better safe than sorry. Thank you.”

  Giovanni checked his phone and it was already on vibrate. And the pastor was right, no signal at all. He looked around the cellar. “These walls must be made of cement or something.”

  “Actually, it looks like they built this place directly into the side of the mountain,” said Danny. “That would mean it’s all natural and we would be completely surrounded by limestone and dolomite.”

  Giovanni tapped Danny on the side of the leg. “I think we should talk more about that. It helps with my nerves if I’m not thinking of the current situation and what I’m about to do.”

  Danny smiled. “You know I eat this stuff up. Just like cake.” He inspected a finger. “Ooh, more frosting.” He smiled and licked it.

  “Sorry to disrupt your peace,” said Stevie. “You’re not going to like this.”

  Giovanni turned to Stevie. “Like what?”

  Stevie gestured to his right where Eleonora was seated.

  “Son of a biscuit,” he said in a low voice.

  Just what he needed, his mom interfering with things. With her present there was no telling what could happen. He had no doubts she was going to make a scene. Her balls were so big she could go bowling with them. Giovanni had to make his move first or his mother could blow everything.

  Giovanni leaned toward Stevie and Danny. “Okay, here’s the plan. When the pastor asks if anyone objects to the wedding I make my move. If my mom tries to make a move first, tackle her. Got it?”

  Danny ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t think they ask if anyone objects to the wedding anymore. That’s just in the movies.”

  “Then I just need to find the right place to do it. But keep in mind my mom may try to say something and I need to do it first. Got it?”

  “Yeah,” said Danny. “Then what? You want us to hold the groom down while you take off with the bride?”

  “Of course not. You two stay out of this unless you see my mom doing something I should know about. Then tell me. I just need to focus on standing up when it’s time.”

  “What are you going to say?”

  “I haven’t the slightest idea.”

  *****

  Natalie messed around with her hair and sighed. She dropped her hair and stared closer at her face in the bathroom mirror. “No way!”

  Rebecca yelled from the other room. “What?”

  “I have a zit. The size of a walnut.”

  Rebecca rushed in and looked at her face. She adjusted her purple bridesmaid dress. “Let me see. Move your hand and look at me.”

  Natalie turned to Rebecca and she inspected the zit. Rebecca moved in for a closer look and touched the zit. The photographer stepped in and took a picture just as she touched it.

  Rebecca squished her eyebrows together.

  “Well?” asked Natalie. “How bad is it?”

  “Uh…”

  “That’s it. The wedding is off! I’m not getting married with a crater on my face.”

  “Hold still!”

  Rebecca licked her finger and carefully wiped the zit off. “Chocolate. You need to relax. There is no need to get nervous.”

  Natalie inspected her ears. “I have very large ears.”

  “You do not have large ears.”

  Natalie played with her ears and pulled them out away from her head so they looked even bigger. “Look, I’m Dumbo.”

  The photographer stepped up and snapped her picture as she held her ears out.

  “What’s wrong with me? I should be happy.”

  Rebecca rubbed her shoulder. “You should be.”

  “Something doesn’t feel right.”

  “Did you smoke pot?”

  “No.”

  “Maybe you should.”

  “I’m a cop—I’m not going to smoke pot.” Natalie started crying. The photographer stepped up again and snapped another photo.

  Rebecca turned toward the photographer, her hands on her hips. “Do you really think she’s going to want that picture in her photo album?”

  The photographer thought about it and said nothing. He stepped back and pulled another lens from his bag.

  Natalie continued to cry. “I wanted a fairy-tale wedding.”

  “That’s what you’re going to have, sweetie.”

  “I just have this feeling that something is going to go terribly wrong. My instincts are always right.”

  “What are you talking about? This is a beautiful day.”

  “I think I hear rain and rain is bad luck.”

  “No, it is not raining. And you planned this day out perfectly. Nothing is going to go wrong. Let me see a smile, come on.”

  Natalie gave her a fake smile. “How’s this?”

  Rebecca wiped Natalie's eyes carefully with some tissue. “There you go. Be happy! You’re getting married!”

  “Yeah, I’m going to marry Jackson Cole.”

  “Of course you are, sweetie.”

  “No, you don’t understand. I’m going to be Natalie Cole. Don’t you see? The jokes will never stop!”

  “It’s just a name! You love him, right?”

  “What is love?”

  “Oh boy.” Rebecca rolled up a napkin to make it look like a joint and pretended to take a hit of it. As she exhaled, the photographer stepped forward and snapped a picture.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Giovanni counted about seventy-five guests in the white chairs around him. A pianist sat at the piano to the left of the altar.

  Giovanni’s replacement.

  He felt some guilt, but then realized this was all supposed to happen. Life was sometimes crazy and you just had to go with it.

  The wedding coordinator gave the pianist the cue to start the music.

  The pianist played Pachelbel’s ‘Canon in D’.

  “This song won’t go away,” said Stevie. He turned to Danny and held up his finger. “Listen to me very carefully. If you mention one word about this song or this artist or how his music was forgotten or anything that has to do with music, songs, instruments, ensembles, operas, conductors, symphonies, compositions, orchestras, choirs, concerts, notes, lyrics, MP3s, or musicians, I will stick my foot so far up your ass you’ll be able to floss your teeth with my shoelaces.”

  “I wasn’t going to say anything!”

  “Right.”

  Giovanni stared at Jacks who swayed back and forth to the music as he stood next to the pastor. He didn’t blame the guy for punching him, but Natalie deserved better.

  I want it to be me.

  The bridesmaids walked the aisle, followed by Rebecca, the matron of honor. Then Natalie appeared and began to walk down the aisle, escorted by her grandfather Federico.

  She was absolutely beautiful. An angel. The only thing that could have made her more attractive would have been a smile on her lips. She obviously was not happy. All the more reason to say something when the opportunity came up. She didn’t see Giovanni, which was probably good.

  Federico was a different story. He winked at Giovanni and continued up the aisle with hi
s granddaughter.

  When Natalie arrived at the altar the pastor said, “Who gives this woman to be married?”

  “I do,” said Federico.

  “Thank you. You may be seated.”

  Federico kissed his granddaughter and took a seat in the front row. Natalie stepped up and stood next to Jacks.

  “I’d first like to welcome you all to this very special occasion,” said the pastor. “To celebrate the love of Natalie and Jack.”

  Jacks leaned in and whispered something to the pastor.

  The pastor smiled and nodded. “To celebrate the love of Natalie and…Jacks.”

  “Is there an echo in here?” asked Danny.

  “What love is the pastor talking about?” whispered Stevie. “I don’t see any love.”

  Stevie was shushed by a woman sitting behind him.

  “I’m Pastor Peter Paul Packard and I’m pleased as punch to partake in this particularly…” The pastor dropped his notes and lost his place.

  Stevie leaned into Giovanni. “Peter Piper picked a peck of—”

  “Not now,” said Giovanni.

  The pastor picked up his notes and shuffled through them. “Sorry.” He tried to organize them and finally gave up. “I’m honored and it’s a…celebration of…you know…different cultures…coming together. A celebration of…uh…a celebration of love!”

  Stevie tapped Giovanni on the arm. “I think the pastor is high on crack or something.”

  The pastor adjusted his glasses, took a deep breath, and continued. “Love is the most magical, precious thing on earth. It’s what drives us and keeps us going. Without love...we are nothing. Zip. Nada. A big goose egg. Love is like a peach. A juicy peach. You just wanna bite into it and suck the juice all day long.”

  “A peach sounds peachy,” said Danny.

  “So before we officially begin the ceremony…if there is anyone who feels that this marriage is not just, speak now or forever hold your peach.”

  The guests laughed.

  The pastor turned red. “Peace. Hold your peace.”

  This was it, Giovanni's cue. It was now or never. Both Danny and Stevie looked at Giovanni and waited. Stevie gave Giovanni a nudge with his arm. “Showtime. Do it now before your mother does.”

  Giovanni stood up.

  Then Eleonora stood up.

  Son of a biscuit!

  Before either one could speak a male voice barked out from behind them.

  “Can I do both?” yelled the man in the back of the room. The guests were startled and everyone turned around. A man dressed in black stood in the back with a gun in his hand. He was accompanied by another man also dressed in black.

  “Pardon me?” asked Pastor Peter Paul Packard.

  The mysterious man walked up the aisle and left his goon in the back to guard the only exit. “I would like to speak now and as you can see, I’m holding my piece!”

  The man waved his gun in the air. He started walking toward the altar. Several people dropped to the floor to hide while a few others took out their cell phones, obviously to call the police—even though there was no cell signal in the cellar.

  A woman fanning herself with a Japanese fan jumped up, screamed, and pointed. “Oh my God, he’s got a gun!”

  “Shut up!” said the man. “Who are you, the play-by-play announcer?”

  She sat back down.

  The man mimicked the lady with the fan. “Oh my God! He’s got a gun! And he’s walking towards the bride and groom with his gun. Bang!”

  The woman screamed and covered her mouth with her hand.

  The gunman laughed and eyed Eleonora, who was still standing. “Who are you?”

  “My name is Eleonora Roma.”

  The man smiled. “Nice name, Eleonora. But what do you think you’re doing?”

  She held her head up high and proud. If she was afraid of the gun it didn’t show. “I also object to this wedding.”

  “Oh, do you?”

  Giovanni decided to join in the conversation. “I objected first.”

  The man turned to Giovanni. “And who the hell are you?”

  “I’m her son.”

  The man looked back to Eleonora. “Her son?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Well, I appreciate this whole family affair thing you’ve got going, but in case you haven’t noticed I have a gun, so my objection is more important than your objections. So sit your asses down!”

  Giovanni and Eleonora sat down.

  The pastor chewed on one of his fingernails. “Is...there a problem?”

  “Yeah, there’s a problem. These two are not getting married.”

  Natalie and Jacks stood there in silence. Natalie’s eyes were darting back and forth between a couple of guys toward the front. Maybe they were other cops in her force and she was trying to analyze the situation and come up with a plan to do something about the intruder.

  “Holy shit,” said Stevie. “This is going to be good. Wish I had some popcorn.”

  Danny tapped on Giovanni's leg. “You gonna say anything else?”

  Giovanni nodded. “I’ve come this far. What have I got to lose?”

  “Not much. Just your life.”

  The pastor folded his notes and placed them in his jacket pocket. “This is usually not the way things are done when you object to a wedding. Oh, who am I kidding?” He let out a nervous laugh. “This has never happened to me before so I really don’t know the rules at all. Can you put the gun away, though? It’s making me nervous.”

  “No can do, Mr. Magoo.”

  “Okay then. You want to object to this marriage?”

  “Yes, I most definitely do.”

  Giovanni stood up. “So do I!”

  Giovanni worked his way from his row and walked down the aisle toward Natalie.

  The man pointed the gun at him. “Didn’t I tell you to sit down?”

  Giovanni stopped. “Yes, you did but your request is unacceptable.”

  “Unacceptable? It’s not a negotiation.”

  “Ignore him,” said Jacks, pointing at Giovanni. “He’s just a jackass who has the hots for my fiancée.”

  Giovanni met Natalie’s gaze and she didn’t seem to look mad that he was doing this. That was a good sign. He looked back to Jacks. “Did you not notice there’s a man with a gun?”

  “I know why he’s here. His name is Paolo DeManera and I just helped put his brother away for life in prison. He’s here because of me. You, on the other hand, have no reason to be here. You’re just a jackass.”

  “Hey!” said Eleonora. She stood and scooted toward the aisle. “If anyone is going to call my son a jackass it’s going to be me!”

  “Jesus Christ,” said Jacks. “Why are you objecting to this wedding anyway?”

  “Because that woman standing next to you is fertile and I want her to make babies with my son! I want grandchildren, goddammit!”

  Here we go again, thought Giovanni.

  A man in the second row burst out in laughter.

  “Hey!” Paolo pointed his gun at the man. “You think it’s right to laugh at someone who is hurting? Can’t you see she is going through some shit right now?”

  The man stopped his laughter. “You’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking. I should be ashamed of myself. I apologize.”

  Paolo stared at the guy. “Are you serious? That didn’t sound sincere at all. I think you’re just saying that so I don’t shoot you.”

  “You’re right, that’s exactly why I said it. I don’t want to be shot. I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “You sound like a fucking robot! Knock it off unless you are going to give me some sincerity.”

  “I’ll work on that. I’m sorry. I—”

  “I’m warning you!”

  The man closed his mouth.

  “What’s your name?”

  The man ran his fingers through his hair. “Justin.”

  “You got sisters, Justin?”

  “No.�
��

  “Of course not. That’s why you don’t know about women and their emotions. You don’t know what they go through. You got a girlfriend?”

  Justin smiled and sat up higher. “Yeah.”

  “Okay, now we’re getting somewhere. What’s her name?”

  Justin looked around the room as if it was a trick question. He didn’t answer.

  “I asked you a question. What’s her name?”

  “Star.”

  “Your girlfriend’s name is Star?

  “Yeah.”

  “Like star in the sky? Star?”

  “Yes.”

  “I used to have a horse named Star.”

  “Okay…”

  “She’s dead. I shot her, but that’s another story. So tell me, where does Star work?”

  The man shrugged. “Nowhere if she’s dead.”

  “Not my horse you idiot, your girlfriend!”

  Justin grimaced. “Oh. Sorry.”

  “Knock off the ‘sorrys’ and answer the question!”

  “She’s manager at Hot Dog On A Stick.”

  “Very impressive. Sounds like marriage material. Anyway, let’s say Star comes home from Hot Dog on a Stick and is having a very bad day. Maybe she pitched the CEO an idea about expanding the menu so they offered hamburger on a stick. Then her idea gets shot down. She’s not going to be a happy camper at all, Justin. You gonna laugh at her?”

  He looked at Paolo like he was crazy. “Why would I do that? Hamburger on a stick sounds like an awesome idea.”

  A man next to Justin nodded and said, “That does sound pretty good. Someone should invent that—I would eat there.”

  Paolo sighed. “Hey genius, the Persians invented it about a billion years ago. It’s called the fucking kebab. Stay with me here. My point is not about that. I’m asking you if you would laugh at Star if she was sad or having a terrible day.”

  Justin thought about it for a few seconds. “No. I wouldn’t.”

  Paolo scratched the side of his face with the gun. “Of course you wouldn’t! Now this woman is having a bad day. What gives you the right to laugh at her? Put yourself in her shoes. How do you think she feels? I want you to feel her pain. Be compassionate and have a little respect.”

  Eleonora nodded. “Thank you.”

  “It’s the least I can do.”