by S. M. Shade
All it takes is one handful of popcorn tossed into the air and I have their attention. They descend on it like they’re starving, and I quickly deposit a trail back to the open crate. Kasha steps back, eyeing the birds with distrust as I throw popcorn inside the crate. This better work because I have no desire to actually catch the birds by hand.
As if they’ve been trained, the gulls follow the trail right into the crate. When we have enough, Lydia drops the lid and latches it. Voila! The doves have now become gulls. The ones that didn’t fall for the trick wander around our feet, eating the spilled popcorn.
“See, they aren’t so bad,” I tease Kasha. I just want it on record that if I knew what would happen, I would never have tossed popcorn at her. I especially wouldn’t have tossed it at her head where it would become tangled in her hair and cause not one, but two gulls to search through the strands while Kasha shrieks and beats at them.
“I’m sorry!” I cry, smacking at the birds as they dive and peck at Kasha’s head.
I can hear Lydia’s hoots and laughter behind me as Kasha runs up the beach, still slapping at her head. I chase after her and finally manage to distract the feathered demons by throwing popcorn on the ground.
Unfortunately, it attracts a lot of their friends as well. Kasha is in full freak out mode as they dip and dive around us. I point her toward Lydia, who’s sitting on the ground holding her stomach as she laughs at us. “Run!”
I don’t have to tell her twice. When we reach Lydia, tears are running down her face as she tries to talk through her laughter. “Y-you punched a bird! And their cries! They sounded like they were laughing at you! Ha-ha-ha! Ha-ha-ha!”
Kasha isn’t the least bit amused by Lydia’s impression of the seagull’s cries. She flips her off before turning to glare at me. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean for them to come after you!” It’s really hard not to laugh, but I manage to keep it in.
“What did you think would happen?” she says, throwing her hands up.
“I thought the popcorn would land around you and they’d peck the ground. I swear, I didn’t think it’d turn into a Hitchcock movie.”
“This is revenge for when I rolled your window down when we were in the middle of the car wash, isn’t it?”
“No,” I cry, the laughter finally bursting free. “But I think now we can call it even.”
“Uh, I’m not so sure about that,” Lydia says, pointing to Kasha’s back.
“What? What is it?” Kasha spins around, trying to see her own back like a dog chasing its tail. She finally gets a peek at the smear of bird shit streaked down the back of her T-shirt.
Our laughter echoes down the beach as Kasha shrieks in disgust and rushes toward the mansion. “We might want to give her a bit before we head back,” Lydia says, and we take a seat on the beach.
“How are you doing, Lydia? It’s not too late to skip the ceremony. We can find something to do until it’s over,” I offer. I feel a little guilty for not spending more time with her this week since she was the main reason I came.
“I’m fine.” She gazes at the rolling waves. “You know, I never really believed in karma, but I think sometimes things turn out like they’re supposed to. Anderson was no good for me, and while I hate the way it ended, I’m glad it did. At first I was upset because I felt like Jane was getting everything that should’ve been mine. If I’d been the one marrying him, I’d be upstairs in that mansion right now, wearing a dress that costs more than I make in five years.”
“But you’d also be marrying a cheater,” I point out.
Grinning, she turns to me. “Exactly! It was my chance at a happily ever after I was mourning, not the loss of Anderson. I was in love with the idea of being with someone forever, having someone I could count on, and that’s not him. I’d much rather find a man I can trust, someone who treats me as good as I’d treat him.”
I wrap her in a hug. “You’ll find it, girl.”
“I wouldn’t have missed this week for the world though,” she laughs. “Killer ducks, dominatrix strippers, spiked champagne, you shaking your dildo at people, Kasha showing every pair of panties she owns, Anderson and Jane with rotten egg all over them.”
“Don’t forget a jellyfish sting on the ass,” I add, dryly, and she giggles.
“See? Awesome week. I’m going to go to the wedding and watch, get drunk at the reception, then go home and get back to my life.”
“Sounds like a plan.” It’d sound like a better plan if Davis didn’t live so far away from me. “We’d better head back and get dressed.”
***
“So, are you wearing normal panties today, just in case?” I tease Kasha as we make our way to the ballroom.
“My dress is staying in place this time,” she swears, flipping me off.
“Is Davis meeting you?” Lydia asks.
Kasha raises an eyebrow at me when I shrug. “I didn’t ask.”
“You mean you avoided him like the plague. You’ve been ducking him all day.”
“We’ll be leaving tonight. There’s no reason to drag it out. It was a week-long fling and it’s over.” I try to ignore the spike of pain those words send through my chest. “What about Roman? Are you going to see him again?”
Kasha frowns. “I doubt it. He lives across the country.” She pauses in the doorway, her gaze taking in the massive amount of white.
There’s white everywhere. Gauzy white material covers the walls, a path of white rose petals leads up to an arch that’s drowning in an array of white flowers. White chairs wait in rows, roped off with a soft cream theater rope linked to stone white stanchions.
“The white wedding dress was bad enough. She really wants people to think she’s a virgin,” Lydia snorts.
“Damn, it’s whiter than a republican convention.” Davis’s voice comes from behind me. His hands fall on my shoulders, and his breath is warm in my ear. “You look beautiful.”
His lips press to mine when I look back at him, catching me off guard. His arm wraps around my waist and he leads me inside, catching up to Kasha and Lydia, who took off as soon as he kissed me. “At least they don’t have a groom’s side and a bride’s side,” Davis points out as we sit by Kasha and Lydia.
“It’s a wonder there isn’t assigned seating,” Kasha says, waving at Roman as he enters.
A scream from the hallway draws everyone’s attention. “You never wanted to fuck me!”
“Maybe if you tried a little foreplay instead of just trying to stuff that little limp thing inside me, I could’ve gotten off!”
Kasha and I look at each other and crack up. “Is that the couple who were fighting at the rehearsal dinner?” I ask.
“Yeah, that’s them. Apparently, he has a little dick, but don’t say it aloud or he will whip it out.”
“Is it little?” Lydia giggles.
“Meh,” Kasha replies, tilting her hand back and forth. “He was uncut and kind of skinny. Looked like a bald anorexic in a turtleneck sweater.”
Monica rushes in, wringing her hands, and Kasha stops her. “Mom! What’s going on?”
“They’re going to ruin everything! He’s the officiant who is supposed to perform the ceremony and I can’t even trust him to keep his meat in his pants.”
My hand darts to my mouth to cover a chuckle. Meat. “Can’t you just get rid of the woman?” I ask, covering my laugh by clearing my throat.
“She’s supposed to play the piano for Jane’s walk down the aisle.”
Lydia gets to her feet. “Simon’s running your music, right?”
Classical music plays from seemingly invisible built in speakers. “Yes, but—”
“I’m sure he can find a bridal march track. I’ll take care of it.”
Monica looks at Lydia in disbelief. She should since she’s been bad mouthing her, and now Lydia is the one who’s going to save the day. Or the song at least. “I… yes, that would work. Thank you, dear.”
“No problem.” Lydia rushes off as Monica hurries to br
eak up the argument in the hallway.
“Did you see how eager she was to get to Simon? She’s totally fucking him,” Kasha says with a grin.
“Like you don’t run to me when you get the chance.” Roman taunts her before turning to me. “I’ll bet she talks about me all the time. Right Henley?”
“I don’t think she’s mentioned you. What’s your name again?”
“She calls me oh god, but you can stick with Roman.”
“What are you laughing at?” Kasha challenges Davis. “We all saw your little red friend.”
“I do not take it in the ass!” Davis exclaims, raising his voice. Two middle-aged women dressed like they’re about to meet royalty quickly scramble away to find different seats. We’ll be lucky if it doesn’t look like we’re in the center of a crop circle at this rate.
Our attention is drawn to the wall behind the arch as it lights up, displaying a picture of Anderson and Jane, their arms wrapped around each other. A general Aww fills the room from the guests. Most of the seats are now full, so it shouldn’t be long. I just want this day over with so I can start trying to put this week with Davis behind me.
The picture changes to a shot of Anderson as a toddler, dressed in a tiny suit, then an image of Jane at about the same age in an Easter dress. “Ugh, I think I’m going to puke,” Kasha grumbles.
Lydia returns and sits between Kasha and me. “Are you okay?” I ask, and she grins at me.
“I’m good. They’re getting ready to get started.”
“I guess I’d better go,” Roman says, bending to give Kasha a kiss. The expression on her face as she watches his suit-clad ass walk away looks familiar. It’s the same look I saw on my own face in the mirror this morning. She doesn’t want to leave him.
The bald man, who was in the hallway yelling about fucking, strides in and takes his place behind the arch. I can’t believe the man shouting about stretched-out vaginas and cracked nipples is presiding over the wedding. It’s perfect. The woman is nowhere to be found, though, so I doubt he’ll go into a tirade mid-ceremony.
The bridesmaids and groomsmen, including Roman, enter and walk down the aisle in pairs, taking their place on the altar, followed by the maid of honor and the best man, and an adorable ring-bearer and flower girl. Anderson makes his way down the aisle and waits for his bride. Finally, Wagner’s Bridal Chorus begins to play, and Jane moves slowly down the aisle. The bitch looks gorgeous, I’ll give her that.
I peek at Lydia to see how she’s handling things and she doesn’t seem upset. Sitting back in her seat with a small smile on her face, it looks like she’s waiting for something.
Pictures of Jane and Anderson continue to be projected above their heads as the bride and groom face each other and the officiant begins to talk. I try not to picture the penis Kasha described while he speaks.
I’m not really hearing them, my mind has wandered to Davis, who squeezes my hand and smiles at me. It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him about getting together again. I know it can’t happen, we barely know each other and we live too far away to manage a real relationship. I don’t know what I want. I just know the thought of not seeing him again is tearing me up.
A collective gasp from the guests brings me out of my head, and Kasha jabs me with her elbow, pointing to the image projected above the bride and groom. I have to blink and look again to process what I’m seeing. Anderson’s naked ass faces the camera, two bare legs wrapped around his hips. A woman’s head is tilted back as he fucks her against a wall.
Her hair gives it away, even before the next photo flashes on the wall, showing Gretchen’s face, her mouth hanging open in ecstasy. Anderson looms over her, his sweaty chest glistening.
There’s a cry as two women run to cover the eyes of the flower girl and ring bearer before leading them out. “This is the best wedding I’ve ever been to!” Kasha says gleefully.
“You bitch!” Jane screams at Gretchen, shoving her. About that time, the music changes to “It Wasn’t Me” by Shaggy.
My gaze meets Kasha’s, and we burst into laughter. We aren’t the only ones. The entire audience erupts in a combination of laughter and irate shouts. Pictures of Anderson and Gretchen continue to flash on the wall. They’re kissing, he’s sucking her tits, one even shows her smiling up at him with his cock in her mouth.
“Get off me, bitch!” Gretchen screeches, clawing at Jane. “You’ve been fucking one of the gardeners since we got here!”
Anderson is talking a mile a minute, and oh, how I wish I could hear his explanation, but all I can make out is “Sorry.”
Monica takes a seat behind Kasha with a sigh. “Fine, you’re right. He’s an asshole.” She gazes around at the chaos taking place. “All of this for nothing.”
Gretchen must take offense to whatever explanation Anderson is trying to use to save his ass because she yells, “You were the one who came to me!” She shoves him and he slams into the officiant. It’s like watching dominoes as everyone stumbles and tries to catch their balance.
For a second, I think they’ve got a handle on it, until Jane grabs Gretchen by the hair. “Maybe if you sucked his dick once in a while he wouldn’t have to come to me!” It’s the girliest, prissiest fight in history, but they manage to knock the officiant off the altar and into the arch. The arch wobbles, pausing as if to build up suspense, then crashes to the ground, sending a spray of white rose petals raining down over the stunned guests.
Lydia pulls something out of her purse… Is that a pink microphone? It is! It’s a child’s microphone, and she’s tapping it before pulling it up to her lips.
“And that, ladies and gentlemen,” she says, her mischievous smile in place, “is why I’m fucking here.”
Well I’ll be damned.
She puts her arm out and drops the mic dramatically. A literal mic drop.
With all the chaos, most people don’t even notice.
Monica stands on her chair and shouts, “If everyone could please move to the garden, a buffet is being served.” She gestures to the door leading to the garden.
“Are you seriously trying to salvage this disaster?” Kasha asks, and Monica shakes her head.
“We should go,” Davis murmurs, and we excuse ourselves. Lydia accompanies us out the door and we make our way to the tent, already filling with people. Grateful for a reason to escape, they line up, fill their plates, and sit at the tables scattered around the lawn.
“Oh hell.” Lydia grabs my arm and points to the large white crate beside the tent. “The Mulder kids.”
Before we can take another step, the Mulder boy opens the crate, releasing a flock of hungry seagulls. This is not how it was supposed to happen.
The birds go crazy, swooping and landing on tables, stealing food from plates as the guests scream and beat at them. Now, we only caught seven or eight birds, but apparently they have a way of calling their friends to join the party, because seconds later there are dozens of birds descending on the tables.
Food is everywhere, now mixed with bird shit, and tablecloths and dishes are sprayed across the grass. The cries of the gulls compete with the screams still going on in the ballroom, and the servers try in vain to shoo them away. They’re no match for the gulls and everyone crowds inside the tent, watching as they tear apart the dining area.
Davis snorts and covers his mouth as a gull lands on an older man’s head and proceeds to pluck off his toupee. The man grabs for it, but he’s too late. “That should make one hell of a nest.”
“I think I’m going to go pack,” Lydia says, a smile on her face.
“I’ll catch up with you.” A quick exit wouldn’t be a bad idea. As I watch her head inside, I can’t help but wonder if she’s behind this. All that time spent with Simon. Did she set this up? Simon was running the projector, so he has to have been the one to put those pictures up. If so, how did she get pictures of Anderson and Gretchen together? How would she even know about them?
No, too much has happened, and Lydia is far to
o good-hearted to ruin anyone’s wedding, no matter what they did to her. Plus, there was the sabotaged wedding dress and the ecstasy in the champagne. She never would’ve drugged anyone, much less let her best friends drink it. We obviously weren’t the only ones with a score to settle at this wedding.
“Come on,” Davis urges, placing his hand on the small of my back.
“Where are we going?”
“Away from here. I want a few minutes alone with you. I’ve been trying to find you all day.”
We end up sitting in a gazebo, far away from the bird attack, but close enough to hear the chaos still rampaging. I take a seat and he sits beside me. “Why were you avoiding me today?”
Shrugging, I try to find a place to point my eyes. “I’m not good at goodbyes.”
His arm slides around my waist, pulling me to him, and I lay my head on his shoulder. “Neither am I, especially when I don’t want to say goodbye.”
“There’s no help for it. We live in different states, and I have no plans to relocate.”
“What if I did?”
His question catches me by surprise and I laugh. “You’re just going to uproot your whole life and move to be with a woman you’ve only been seeing for a week? You don’t even know me.”
His large palm cups my cheek as his lips take mine in a long, devastatingly tender kiss. “I’ve known you since you were in grade school, Little Chicken. You haven’t changed.”
He’s wrong. I don’t take chances as easily as I once did. After he ripped my heart out, I learned not to get too close, and I tend to date guys I know are wrong for me to keep that vital distance. They never have a chance to leave me because I leave them.
“Yes, I have. I don’t put all my hope in silly dreams like I did as a teenager. Happily ever afters only exist in stories. Things are much easier when I face reality. I loved you once, but that’s over. I forgive you for the way you left me, but even if the distance weren’t an issue, we couldn’t be together. I’d just be waiting for the day I’d wake to find you gone again.”
His chest rises and falls on a deep sigh. “I’m sorry, Hen. I never meant to hurt you like that. As much as I hated the thought, you were so smart and beautiful I assumed you replaced me without looking back.”
