A Ballad of Confetti, Cake and Catastrophes

by Helen Juliet

  After sourcing some toast to go with his caffeine, Nicholas quickly sussed that the best plan would be to stay out of everyone’s way. The hairdresser arrived at half past seven and set up in the living room, and the photographer not long after that. Nicholas took it upon himself to make sure that they had a never-ending stream of tea. The rest of the time he curled up on the couch to close his eyes for a few minutes at a time, until he could seize his opportunity to nip into the shower when it was free for a few minutes.

  Ash didn’t need her hair styled, as it was so short there was very little you could do to it outside of her normal daily routine. But she did obediently sit and allow several tiny flower gems to be clipped in atop her head. As soon as the last one was in place, she thanked the lady, then unceremoniously grabbed Nicholas by the hand and hauled him out into the garden.

  The sun was still shining, although the mud beneath the extremely green grass was still quite squishy. So they stood on the patio, Ash with her arms folded, Nicholas shading his eyes so he could see her without squinting too badly.

  “Um,” he said nervously, having been dragged the length of the house in silence. “What’s up?” The question came out as a squeak.

  “That’s what I was going to ask you,” she countered. “You look like your dog just died. What the hell?”

  Nicholas winced. “Is it that obvious?”

  Ash shrugged. “I think other people are doing their best to ignore it, or pretend that you’ve still got that headache.” She scoffed to indicate how much she’d believed that excuse yesterday. “But you’re sad. And today’s a day you should definitely be happy. So. What’s up?”

  Nicholas rubbed his eyes under his glasses. He was so tired, he’d decided to wait until later to put his contacts in. He was dreading it, but he didn’t have a choice.

  He sighed, and figured, finally, it was time to come clean. “I fucked up,” he blurted unceremoniously. He threw his hands up, and slapped them on his thighs. “I had one job for today – one. I was supposed to book my friend’s sister to play her harp at the breakfast. But I completely forgot, and instead of coming clean, I lied. But then it was all okay, because I couldn’t get a harpist, but I found this—” his voice caught, but he powered on through “—incredible guitarist, honestly, his voice is so beautiful. And then he cancelled on me yesterday afternoon. So…that’s it. No one to play the wedding.”

  “Right,” said Ash after a moment. She raised an eyebrow, then reached into her back pocket for her phone. “First off, no one’s going to notice the music at the reception – I promise. A harp was a great idea, and I’m sure the guitar would have been great, but everyone will have had too much booze by then. They’ll just be fighting over the bread basket and placing bets on how long the best man speech goes on for. Look.” She held up her screen. It was a Spotify playlist, titled ‘Wedding Classics.’ “There. Sorted. You don’t need to worry about it a second more. Any music will do. And as for this guy letting you down yesterday,” she spat out as she put her phone away again. “What a prick. Not your fault.”

  Nicholas was still reeling from the fact he’d never once thought about saving his skin with a pre-made playlist. It wouldn’t have quite the same effect as live music, but still, it would be better than awkward silence. Then he registered what Ash had said.

  “Oh, no,” he told her quickly. “He’s completely not a prick, it’s for really good reasons. I promise. I don’t blame him. I just, well it put me in a load of trouble again, or so I though. But, you’re right.” He smiled at her. “We can fix it with Spotify.”

  She regarded him with a shrewd eye until he fidgeted on his feet. “Would this guitarist,” she said slowly, “happen to be that guy Fynn from the club?”

  Nicholas’s jaw dropped, giving the game away before he could even consider thinking up a decent lie. “How did you…?”

  Ash shrugged, then pulled him into a hug. “I can spot a crush a mile off,” she said, rubbing his back. “Is that why he bailed? Is he straight?”

  Nicholas’s cheeks burned as Ash stepped back to look at him. “Um, no,” he mumbled. “Very gay actually.”

  “Ahh,” said Ash with understanding.

  Nicholas coughed and rubbed at his scars. “No, he got a chance to see a big music producer today. I told him to take it. Yeah, it kind of sucks for the wedding, but getting a record contract is way more important.”

  “Uh huh,” said Ash. “So, why’d you have to break up? You that pissed at him for bailing?”

  Nicholas scoffed. “We weren’t really together. He was only going to be around for the wedding anyway, so, it’s best just to part ways now.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I’ll, um, buy his CD someday, maybe.” Ash just stared at him, her eyes narrowing. “What?”

  “He said he didn’t want to see you anymore?”

  “Actually,” admitted Nicholas, scuffing his feet on the patio. “He said he’d call me. But, he won’t,” he said with conviction. “He can barely text. It’s fine, you’ve fixed the music problem, so, what’s there left to talk about?” She plonked her hands on her hips, and raised her eyebrows at him. “What?” whined Nicholas in exasperation.

  She sighed, softening her posture and wrapping her arms around him again. “I don’t know him like you do,” she said into his neck. “But, maybe don’t give up just yet, yeah? Sometimes things have a way of working themselves out.”

  Nicholas thought that was very nice of her to say. He didn’t believe her, especially not after this week, where he’d never in his life been witness to so many things not working out, but still, he appreciated the sentiment. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  They stayed like that for a minute more, but there was no hiding on a day like today. So with a shared sigh and shrug, they both headed back towards the kitchen door.

  As they re-entered the house, it was clear from the babble of chatter and childish shrieks coming from the hallway that Lauren and company had arrived from the hotel. Ash stopped in her tracks, looking to Nicholas for guidance. He chuckled.

  “They’re not that scary,” he assured her. “Do you want to come meet them?”

  Ash hadn’t yet had the opportunity to get to know her future sister-in-law much beyond Facebook. But before they could make it through the kitchen, they were accosted by a small creature known as the ‘Milly Monster’.

  “Uncle Nicky, Uncle Nicky!” she screeched as he automatically bent down to let her throw her arms around his neck.

  “Monster!” he cried back, picking her up and spinning her around. He was vaguely aware of the stealthy photographer snapping away in the background. “Wow, you got big!” She really had. He tried to Skype semi-regularly with his sister, but the last he’d seen his niece on screen, he hadn’t realised what a growth spurt she’d been through. Her dark brown hair had grown too, almost reaching her waist. The hairdresser was going to have fun with that. “Look who’s here,” he said. He stopped spinning so they were facing Ash, who was smiling at the both of them. “This is Auntie Ash. Can you say ‘hello’?”

  Milly frowned and leaned over, reaching her little hand to pat at Ash’s short hair with the sparkly flowers in it. “Auntie Ash,” she said experimentally. She touched the hair again, and Ash leant into the touch. Milly turned back to Nicholas, still frowning.

  “What’s up, Doc?” he asked.

  Milly looked at Ash again. “Is Auntie Ash a boy or a guwl?” she asked. She chewed on her lip and pulled at her own long hair.

  Ash laughed, clearly delighted. “This one’s a keeper,” she announced. She held out her hand, and after a moment’s consideration, Milly stuck hers out to so they could shake. “Well Milly – that’s your name, right?” Milly nodded, using her whole body so Nicholas had to hoist her up again and re-establish his grip under her bum. “Sometimes girls can have short hair too. Is that okay?”

  Milly hummed as she thought about it. “Yes,” she decided, and patted Ash again.

 
; “Good, thank you,” Ash told her.

  Nicholas let her down again, and she ran back to where everyone else was congregated. Lauren’s boyfriend Franko was a typical tall, dark and handsome Italian, and he greeted them all with three kisses on the cheeks that lead to numerous nose bumps, almost snogs, and several cries of ‘Oops, sorry!’

  Lauren had met him when she’d been travelling. He knew their parents had thought it was going to be a holiday fling at the time, but Lauren was never one to do what was expected. She cancelled the rest of her planned trip, got a job in Rome with a human rights charity, and not long later Milly had come along. It had all been very romantic.

  With a pang, he thought about Fynn. They’d only had one date, but it had been pretty romantic for his first ever date, and he hadn’t been able to stop himself hoping there would be more. He wished there could have been more.

  He made himself smile and shake away his melancholy. Today wasn’t about him.

  The morning slipped away at an astonishing rate. One by one, the bridesmaids began transforming as they got their hair done and started applying their makeup. Nicholas’s mum faffed around with her hat for a solid half an hour, and Nicholas dithered about when to go and put his suit on.

  The first hiccup came when Lauren emerged from where she and Milly had set up camp in Nicholas’s parents’ room. Nicholas happened to be in the corridor, making his way downstairs again with Kinny, when they both stopped in their tracks when they saw her fully intact bridesmaid’s dress.

  “Holy crap,” cried Nicholas, tugging at his hair. “I totally forgot!”

  Lauren looked down at her floor-length dress. “Forgot what?” she asked. “What’s wrong?”

  “We had to change our dresses,” explained Kinny weakly. “Um, come and see.”

  Danielle had naturally been the first to get her hair done, and when they entered the den, she was unsurprisingly completely ready to go, even though the cars weren’t due for another two hours. Hair, makeup, jewellery, clutch bag, shawl, and most importantly, recently altered dress.

  She and Lauren regarded each other with wide eyes. “Oh,” said Lauren, taking in the new dip-hem line. “I see.”

  “So, you know Archibald, right? The cat?” Kinny gibbered. “Well, he didn’t like the dresses much, so suddenly there was a whole lot less of them, and we had to think fast. But, um, we all sort of forgot you had a dress too.”

  Nicholas rubbed his forehead and looked between the two different styles. “Do we need to change it?” he asked.

  Danielle shook her head. “There’s no time,” she said. She took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “If we’d have maybe let Lauren know at the start of the week, she could have organised an alteration to match…”

  Nicholas felt guilty again about keeping the accident a secret. But Lauren shook her hands at them all. “Hey, it doesn’t really matter, does it? I mean, yours is different too.” She pointed at Danielle’s waist. “It’s got extra blingy bits in the middle.” She smiled at looked to Nicholas and Kinny for support.

  “I feel bad we didn’t tell you,” said Kinny.

  “Yeah, it’s not been the best week,” mumbled Nicholas.

  Lauren shook her head. “Milly and I are going down the aisle first anyway. So, we’ll just be different; Milly’s design has always been different anyway, just the same colour as ours. We’ll be… Mummy Maid, and Mini Maid.”

  Nicholas laughed. “That’s cute,” he agreed. “If you’re sure?”

  Danielle flicked an eyebrow, as if to ask what they could do anyway. But Lauren laughed. “Yeah, it’s fine. As long as Clara looks the most gorgeous. We’re just here to prop her up, aren’t we?”

  Gosh he had missed his sister’s easy going nature. She always knew how to put out the fires before they really began. Which was a good job, because the next one was already on its way.

  Over the commotion of the flower delivery arriving in the hall, a holler came floating down the stairs in agitated Italian. Lauren frowned, and leant out the door from the den to shout back at her boyfriend.

  “Everything okay?” he asked nervously. He’d always meant to learn a bit of Italian, but when they both could speak English, it had never really seemed all that pertinent.

  Lauren waited until Franko replied to whatever it was that she’d asked, and raised her eyebrows. “Um,” she said, starting out the door. “Minor hiccup.”

  Nicholas followed with a sense of trepidation. Please don’t be too bad, he begged the universe silently. Please just be a little crisis. He’d got quite good at fixing little crises.

  Milly was running around Nicholas’s parents room with her arms out like an airplane, making her pink bridesmaid dress fan out behind her. She looked perfectly happy. But Franko was stood in front of Lauren by the time Nicholas got there with Danielle and Kinny, holding out a small pair of very pretty white shoes with glitter along the straps that complemented the grown-up bridesmaids’ footwear perfectly.

  “What’s the matter?” Lauren asked, taking one of them to inspect it in her hand. “Won’t she put them on?”

  Franko sighed. “No, she was actually happy to wear them, because they are sparkly, see.” He pointed at the glitter. That was obviously a prerequisite for Milly’s shoes at present, Nicholas assumed. “The problem is they are being too small.”

  Lauren tilted her head and eyed him with disbelief. “I only bought them last month,” she said.

  Franko put his hands up and shook his head. ‘Lo so,” he said. “I know, I know, but they are pinching her. She cried.”

  “Oh no,” said Kinny sympathetically.

  Lauren clicked her fingers, and called Milly over in Italian. “Hey Baba,” she said as her daughter approached. “Did the shoes hurt you?” Milly stuck her bottom lip out and nodded. But Lauren didn’t seem convinced, and glanced at Franko. “Could be just a ploy,” she said, then turned back. “Can Mummy try?”

  “No!” Milly howled and bolted.

  The next few minutes were spent seeing how many fully-grown adults could chase a single toddler around one room. But eventually, Kinny, who was not yet in heels and had years of teaching experience, managed to grab her by the waist and swing her into her lap as she sat on the bed.

  “Look Milly,” she cooed, pointing at the child’s parents as they each descended on her with a shoe. “Aren’t they pretty. They’re just like Mummy’s, and Cousin Danny’s. Don’t you want to look like them?”

  “Too tight, too tight!” Milly kept protesting. Big tears rolled down her cheeks as she kicked her legs, and Nicholas felt mean. But Lauren and Franko persisted in trying to ease them on, until seemingly as one, they both knelt back and admitted defeat.

  “Well…fiddlesticks,” grumbled Lauren.

  Milly scrambled off of Kinny’s lap, and allowed herself to be scooped up into Nicholas’s arms.

  “It’s fine,” he told them all as she shivered against him. He stroked his niece’s dark hair and kissed her wet cheek. This was surely a mini crisis compared to some of the other things they’d faced. “Honestly, it’s not a problem. Can’t she just wear another pair of shoes?”

  Lauren and Franko shared a look, and sighed. “She hasn’t got another pair of shoes,” said Lauren. “Not ones suitable for a wedding, anyway.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Danielle.

  Franko went to the suitcase they’d brought with them from the hotel, and retrieved a very small, hot pink, and sparkly pair of wellington boots. “She has refused to wear anything else since Christmas.”

  Nicholas was tempted to laugh, but he could tell this had been a battle they’d been having for months. “Well, how come they fit, and the wedding shoes don’t?” he asked.

  “They were always too big for her,” Lauren explained as Milly leant out as far as she could from Nicholas, her hands grabbing for the boots. “There was only one size on display, but she screamed until we bought them. She’s been wearing them with two or three pairs of socks.”


  Nicholas sighed, and released Milly so she could scamper over to her dad and jam her feet eagerly into the wellies. It seemed now that they fit fine with just one pair of socks.

  “Honestly,” said Kinny, regarding the child as she spun happily around. Her tears had dried on her face, completely forgotten. “I think that sort of looks cute.”

  Nicholas tried to look at the outfit objectively. It didn’t look all that wedding-y, but, Kinny was right. “It kind of fits with the spring theme,” he offered, watching as she began jumping up and down like a little kangaroo. “It makes me think of gardening and April showers.”

  Danielle looked at the clock on the wall. “I mean,” she said. “Uncle Robert probably has time to run her into town and buy her something new, but do you think she’ll have a tantrum if we try that?”

  Lauren and Franko looked at each other. “Yes,” they said as one.

  Danielle sighed, and rubbed the back of her neck. “Okay,” she said, then held out her hand for Milly to take. “Hey sweetie! Shall we go show Auntie Clara your pretty boots, see if she likes them?”

  “Yes, yes, yes!” yelled Milly. She punctuated each word with a jump as she bounced over to take the proffered hand.

  Clara was in the living room with their mum, getting her hair done up in an intricate knot. She was drinking tea and chatting with the photographer hovering by her side when the gang of them entered, and several emotions flitted across her face as she took in Lauren in her original dress and Milly in her boots. “We’ve had a bit of a shoe emergency,” said Danielle with a big, slightly forced smile.

  “Auntie Clawa!” Milly squealed. “My boots are spawkly,” she announced. She ran up in front of where Clara was sitting and pointed them this way and that so she could see them from every angle.

  “Yes, they are,” she said to her. Then she looked over at Lauren, careful not to move her head too much where the hairdresser was working. “I thought you got her white shoes?”