by Alina Jacobs
“Can you ask Elsie to save me some lobster rolls?” I asked her.
“I mean, you’re paying for them, so I’m sure she can,” Ivy teased.
As we approached the lounge, there were the unmistakable sounds of two people getting into the wedding spirit, so to speak.
“Is this someone’s room?” Ivy whispered to me.
“This is the lounge,” I said, grimacing.
“Who’s the prettiest bride?” a woman cried out as I pushed open the heavy door.
“Is that Camilla?” Ivy whispered in shock.
“You are, baby! I’m gonna come in your wedding cake!”
Ivy made a gagging noise as we stepped into the room.
“Oh my gosh!” Ivy exclaimed, clapping a hand over her mouth.
My father and Camilla were going at it. She was wearing a veil and had her yellow-and-red kilt hitched up. She took a swig from a bottle of champagne as my father took her from behind. He stopped mid-pump when he saw us.
“What the fuck, Evan!” my father cursed, pulling up his pants. “Do you always have to cockblock me?”
Camilla screamed and clutched the champagne bottle as she adjusted her kilt. The veil flopped in her eyes.
“You’re drinking?” Ivy said in horror. “But you’re pregnant!”
“You’re pregnant?” my father bellowed at her. “If you think I’m going to marry you when you’re carrying some other man’s child, you better think again.”
“You’re marrying her?” My mouth dropped open.
“Not anymore,” my father said in disgust.
My head reeled.
“Give me that ring back,” my father ordered Camilla.
“But I’m not pregnant!” Camilla wailed. “It was a lie! Honestly. I’ll take a pregnancy test.” She grabbed my father’s suit jacket. He shook her off and stormed out of the room, Camilla following him.
“Holy shrimp tacos!” Ivy said, sinking down onto one of the sofas.
“I don’t think you want to touch anything in this room,” I said grimly, scooping her around the waist and lifting her back up. She was so close to me, so warm and soft in my arms. I was leaning down to almost kiss her when her phone went off.
Imogen’s screaming voice came through the speaker when Ivy answered.
“I just saw your father,” Ivy said weakly. “He was here just a minute ago.”
“Wedding duty calls?” I asked, still holding her.
“I guess we’ll finish this conversation afterward,” she told me. Before she left, she looked me up and down. “Nice tux.”
“I have it on good authority that I look even better without it on!”
Ivy quirked an eyebrow. “I’d have to see that for myself.”
I practically did backflips down the hall back to the groom’s suite.
“Camilla is not pregnant!” I announced to the group.
“Of course she’s not,” Teddy said as he ineptly tried to tie his bowtie. “She knows her dad would cut off her allowance if she got pregnant while unmarried. Now when is this wedding going to start? I’m starving.”
“I really wish you would have eaten something,” I told Teddy as I wheeled him and his groomsmen on a luggage cart down the hall to the elevator.
“I’m not wearing any underwear!” Teddy told me proudly, lifting his kilt.
“Please keep that down! There are elderly women at this wedding. Though,” I said thoughtfully, “going off the elderly women I know, they probably wouldn’t mind.”
As nutty as the groom’s suite had been, it was nothing compared to the chaos in the staging area of the ceremony space. Camilla was crying and literally tearing out her hair extensions. The poor stylist was helplessly trying to pin them back into her hair as Camilla begged and pleaded for another chance while waving a negative pregnancy test at my father.
“Please take me back! I love you and you love me! We’re meant to be together.”
“Make her stop!” Imogen yelled, stamping her feet. “Make her stop! She’s ruining my wedding. Mika, do something.”
But Mika stood dejectedly in the corner as my mother’s earrings sparkled under Imogen’s up-do.
“The groom is here,” I told Ivy.
She inspected Teddy. He was half falling off the luggage cart. “Good. Let’s get this shit show on the road.”
Teddy slumped off of the luggage cart, his kilt falling up over his head exposing the family jewels. My stepmother screamed then wavered.
“Don’t act like you haven’t seen that before, Mom,” Imogen snapped. “Teddy, get it together.”
“I think we’re going to have to wheel him down,” I said.
“No! You need to help him down the aisle,” Imogen stated.
“But I’m on the bride’s side,” I reminded her.
“And the bride is ordering you to get the groom down the aisle.”
I looked to Ivy.
She shrugged. “He’s so drunk I don’t think this wedding is even going to be legal.”
“Great, so it’s all just one big pageant.” I threw up my hands.
“Wheel me in like I’m the king of Rome!” Teddy slurred then started singing the national anthem loudly and off-key.
I dragged him and the groomsmen back onto the luggage cart, propping them upright.
“This isn’t how my wedding is supposed to go!” Imogen screeched.
I ignored her. “Camilla, are you coming?” I asked with a slight smirk. So sue me; I’m a sore winner.
“I hate you, Evan! You ruined my life!”
“You did that all by yourself,” I retorted.
“You can have your stupid wedding,” Camilla snarled to Imogen. “I quit!” She threw the flowers at Imogen. They missed, and Teddy caught them, holding them up like the winning touchdown pass. He and his friends on the cart cheered.
“They can’t go down the aisle like that,” Imogen hissed at Ivy. “We need to wait until they sober up.”
“We only have this space booked for an hour,” Ivy told her. “Then there’s a knitting convention that has it reserved.”
“Let’s get married at Chuck E. Cheese!” Teddy yelled.
“I have another wedding at four,” the officiant said, checking her watch. “This happening or not?”
Ivy spoke into her headset, and the string quartet began playing.
“This isn’t how I wanted my wedding to go!” Imogen complained.
“Evan,” Ivy told me, motioning with her hand, “wheel them down.”
Against the backdrop of the sweet strains of Pachelbel’s Canon, Teddy and his groomsmen sang filthy Scottish sea shanties as the luggage cart, me pushing, sailed down the aisle. People laughed and applauded, and Teddy waved, tossing flowers from Camilla’s discarded bouquet to the audience.
After us came Mika, who was carrying a drooly corgi puppy, and then Ivy. She was beautiful walking down the aisle alone in her blush-pink dress. I almost wished it were us getting married.
The string quartet segued into “Here Comes the Bride,” and Imogen marched down the aisle on my father’s arm. She couldn’t even muster up a smile through the sour look firmly affixed to her face. My stepmother kept miming for her to smile.
I hauled Teddy to his feet as Imogen approached the altar. The officiant launched into the wedding ceremony, but I only had eyes for Ivy. She was smiling broadly along as the officiant went through the words I was sure Ivy had heard a thousand times before but somehow still believed in—and she made me want to believe in them too.
“If anyone can show just cause why this couple cannot lawfully be joined together in matrimony, let them speak now or forever hold their peace,” the officiant announced.
“I object!”
54
Ivy
I stood there in shock as Mika handed me her flowers and snatched the microphone from the officiant.
“I’m not objecting to the union, because both Imogen and Teddy are awful, immature, spoiled people who deserve to make each othe
r miserable for the rest of their lives. I object because they both, especially Imogen, don’t deserve this. They don’t deserve a nice wedding, they don't deserve to have everyone cater to them for a year, and they don’t deserve a happily ever after. That’s it.” Mika handed the microphone over, took her bouquet from me, and resumed her place in line.
“Uh—are there any other objections? If not, we can proceed,” the officiant said after a long pause.
“I object!” Imogen screeched, snatching the microphone.
Dear God, please put us all out of our wedding-induced misery.
“This is supposed to be the happiest day of my life, and all of you have conspired against me out of jealousy and pettiness to make it as awful as possible. And you,” she hissed at Mika, “are selfish and self-serving. You want your stupid earrings back?” Imogen pulled them out of her ears then threw them at Mika. “Here, take them.”
“All of you are on my shit list!” Imogen stated, wagging her finger at the dumbfounded guests.
There were several phones up recording the scene.
“Finish the ceremony,” I hissed to the officiant under my breath.
She flipped to the next page of the ceremony script.
“Do you, Imogen, take Teddy to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
Teddy grabbed the microphone.
“I object.”
“That’s not your line!” I blurted, then clapped my hand over my mouth.
Evan was silently laughing across from me. I glared at him and silently tried to communicate to him that he needed to stop Teddy.
“I object because, Imogen, you are no fun. You wouldn’t let me have apple bobbing or cornhole or any sort of party games. We couldn’t even have alcohol!”
That sent off a rumbling through the guests. “No alcohol?” someone exclaimed loudly. “What the fuck am I doing here?”
“Please, everyone, we do have very delicious craft mocktails for your enjoyment,” I called out to the crowd.
“I need alcohol!” Evan’s great aunt said, shaking her purse threateningly.
“It’s all right,” Teddy said, taking a flask out of his jacket. “I brought some.”
“Put that away,” Evan hissed.
“You need to marry me!” Imogen yelled at Teddy.
“No! I object! I object to marriage and I object to you and I object to your crooked breast implants.” Teddy took a swig from his flask.
“Oh yeah?” Imogen shrieked. “Well, I object to you and your beer belly and the hair you’ve been losing. And the fact that you’re short!”
“That’s mean!” Teddy thundered. “Take it back.”
“No!” Imogen slapped him with the bouquet, and flower petals rained everywhere.
Teddy staggered back. “Fuck this shit. By the power invested in me as the leader of my fantasy football league, I hereby pronounce this wedding cancelled!” he announced. “Who’s coming on the honeymoon with me?”
His mates cheered and pulled out their own flasks.
“No alcohol,” I hissed at them, trying to make them put the flasks away before someone saw.
“You can’t have my honeymoon,” Imogen yelled, grabbing the microphone. “It’s my honeymoon. I object. I object!”
“No,” Evan said, taking the microphone from her. “I object.”
“What in the world, Evan?” I hissed at him through gritted teeth.
Evan faced me.
“I object, Ivy, because I love you. I had a grand apology gesture planned, but it looks like we’re all going to be disentangling this disaster of a wedding for the foreseeable future, and I can’t keep waiting any longer. I’m in love with you, Ivy. I screwed up and ruined your life and now you hate me, and I’m sorry. I know you won’t take me back, but I just want you to know, at every wedding for the rest of my life, I will be cold and alone and always wish it was you and me getting married.”
“Evan,” I said softly. “I don’t hate you. I just need some time to think about this and talk it over.”
“I understand,” he said unhappily. Then he rallied and addressed the audience. “As no wedding is happening today, we have a very nice reception planned for anyone who’s hungry.”
“No!” Imogen said, trying to block guests from leaving their seats. “None of you are allowed to use any of this food. I demand that it be thrown away.”
“I paid for it,” Evan said stubbornly as Imogen tried to snatch the microphone from him. “You are all welcome to head upstairs for the reception.”
“Actually,” the hotel manager said from the back of the room, “there will be no reception. Per the terms of your contract, you are not allowed to have alcohol here. We will need to ask you to vacate the premises.”
“What am I supposed to do with all this food?” Elsie demanded.
“And this cake!” Sophie added. The hotel manager looked uncomfortable to have my two friends bearing down on him.
Evan grinned and spread his arms wide. “Take it to Ivy’s place!”
I was suddenly furious. “Take it to my place? I’m homeless! You ruined my place!” I shrieked.
Evan smirked. “I told you I had a grand gesture planned.”
I gazed at him in disbelief.
Next to me, in Mika’s arms, the puppy projectile vomited all over Imogen.
“Oh, Immie,” Mika said, her voice sickly sweet. “I found your earrings!”
The bridezilla let out an unholy scream as Evan tied a satin ribbon around my eyes and led me away from the wedding carnage.
55
Ivy
“Keep your eyes closed,” Evan said, leading me to the elevator.
“You didn’t!”
“It’s a surprise, Ivy!”
“You couldn’t have possibly!” I let him guide me into the elevator.
“I mean, I was trying to tell you…” he said as the elevator took us to the very top of the Brookview Hotel.
“Oh my god!” I exclaimed as Evan removed the blindfold to reveal the clock tower penthouse. “Did you buy this?”
“I did, but unlike the wedding food, this all belongs to you and you alone. No strings. You can kick me out if you want,” he promised.
There was a whirring noise, and a Roomba chugged into the room, Fergus perched on top, surveying his new kingdom. When he saw me, he hopped off and pranced over to me to rub against my ankles, purring. I gingerly picked him up, and he snuggled in my arms.
“He just needed more space,” Evan said, petting the cat. “He’s a big boy, and he needed room to spread out.”
I spontaneously hugged Evan, squishing Fergus between us, then kissed the handsome man.
“I told you,” Evan said, pulling back and looking me in the eye, “this isn’t a ‘please get back together with me’ gift. There are no strings. This is an apology for getting you evicted.”
I dumped Fergus out of my arms then grabbed Evan’s tie and pulled him back to me.
“But if I want, can I still have you as a bonus apology present? Like how when you buy a car, you get six months of Sirius radio for free?”
“You can have me for more than six months,” Evan promised. “I’ll be with you till death do us part.”
The elevator dinged, and Fergus went over to investigate. I left him to it and wrapped my arms around Evan’s neck. He kissed me long and slow.
“I love you and I want to marry you,” he said, lips soft against mine.
“I love you too, but I cannot have a wedding right now,” I said.
“Who wants wedding cake?” Sophie sang out as she wheeled the giant cake off of the elevator.
“Looks like the wedding is coming to you,” Evan joked.
“I mean, I never say no to wedding cake!”
The DJ set up in a corner, and the clock tower penthouse, my penthouse, filled with guests.
“I had emergency alcohol delivered,” Elsie told me as her catering staff set up. “It’s not a wedding reception without alcohol.”
“Wher
e’s the bride?” I asked as Evan handed me a spiked mocktail.
“Last I saw her, she was headed to the airport with her mom,” Mika replied. “Imogen said she deserved the vacation because she’s worked so hard to put on this wedding.”
“It was a team effort!” Amy piped up. She was weaving a garland of flowers around the glass railing on the stairs. “Which is why it was so generous of Evan to give us this fabulous office space.”
“Ivy’s supposed to live here,” Evan protested.
Grace snickered as she snapped photos. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s going to happen.”
“Oh well! Guess I’ll have to move in with you,” I told him, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Hope your bed is big enough for me and a cat.”
Evan gave me a dangerous grin that promised that we would not be doing much sleeping and picked me up, kissing me hard. The party was in full swing, and I mingled with the guests, who were very glad to have an alcohol-friendly wedding reception.
The elevator dinged again opening to reveal an irate delivery man wearing overalls. He looked down at his clipboard.
“I have three hundred corgis for a Mr. Evan Harrington?”
I looked at him in horror.
“Bring them in, please.” Evan turned to the crowd and announced, “Who wants a corgi puppy?”
“Evan, no, you can’t give away puppies as gifts,” I said in dismay.
Evan winked at me as the delivery men brought in pallets and pallets of…
“Corgi plushies!” Brea squealed. “They’re so cute and soft!”
“And they won’t pee on your shoe,” Elsie said as Evan tossed out stuffed animals to the guests.
“What are we going to do with the actual corgis?” I asked as the puppies wagged their stubby tales at Fergus, who gazed at them imperiously as if to remind the drooly puppies that he was named after a Scottish laird.
“The breeders will take them back,” Mika said. “For a fee, of course. But I think I’ll keep this little guy.” She patted the puppy that had eaten Imogen’s earrings. “He will be my first of a collection of animals as my new career of being a reclusive shut-in.”
