The Less Than Perfect Wedding

by Sam Westland

  But everything wasn't all right. It had all gone wrong, just as I had known, and I couldn't even handle trying to keep things together any more. I was done, and I was not going to stick around and watch things crash and burn any more.

  *

  Turning slowly in a circle, I spotted the window on the other side of the room. Aha! I quickly crossed over to it and hoisted it open, cringing as it let out a loud squeal of protest as I forced the old, sticky wood.

  Despite its complaints, the window opened for me, and I stuck my head out and looked around. This was on the side of the church, and there didn't look to be anyone around who would spot my escape. There was a rather convenient drainpipe nearby, bolted onto the wall with regular U-rings that looked stable enough to hold my weight, and the ground below was covered in bushes that would hopefully be enough to break my fall if I slipped.

  Fortunately, Claire had at least left me my purse. I tossed it out of the window, watching it land with a thump in a rose bush below. It didn't seem that far down, I thought. I carefully lifted my leg, pushing down the annoyingly frilly dress to try and see where my foot was about to land. Moving very slowly, I transferred my body from the inside to the outside of the window.

  I reached across and grasped the drainpipe. Holding my breath, I let go of the windowsill, trusting the metal pipe with my weight. It seemed to hold, so I wasted no more time. I lowered myself carefully, being sure to test my weight on each bracket before trusting it to fully support me.

  Despite the sturdiness of the drainpipe, I breathed a fervent sigh of relief when my feet finally touched the ground. The dirt below the window was soft and spongy, and my shoes immediately sank into the soft mulch all the way to the heel. When I tried to take a step forward, I nearly pitched face first into a rosebush.

  Doing my best to keep my curses muffled, should any passerby wonder why the flowers had gained the ability to swear like a sailor, I struggled to escape. After a few minutes' futile effort, I gave up on the shoes, slipping my bare feet out of them and leaving them behind. I wrenched my purse out of the rose bush and tucked it under one arm.

  Wincing as my exposed feet managed to encounter every sharp stick and rock on the ground as I walked, I crept behind the bushes, circling the church and hugging the wall to stay out of sight. The wall was leaving dirt and other stains on my dress, but it was already covered in several marks from the drainpipe and dragging across the dirt on the ground, so I didn't care too much any more. After making it around the corner, I realized that I was near the back parking lot. I hadn't known where I was trying to run away to, but I figured that a vehicle would help me get there a lot faster than on my bare feet. Of course, I didn't have any car keys, but as I dashed across the dew-soaked grass towards the asphalt of the parking lot, feeling a little silly as I held up the front of my dress so that I could run, I prayed that somebody would be getting into or out of their car and would be willing to give me a lift. Or maybe one of my more forgetful elderly relatives had forgotten their keys in the lock.

  The sun was reflecting brightly off the parked cars when I reached the lot, but I couldn't see any movement. I squinted around, bouncing lightly on my feet as I tried to prevent the rough surface of the tarmac from scratching up my toes. Faintly, from the far end of the lot, I could hear the sputtering sound of someone trying to turn over a car engine. Salvation!

  I hurried down the lanes of cars, most likely looking ridiculous as I high-stepped to avoid dragging my bare feet over the rough surface. At the far end of the lot, I spotted the car - a black Lincoln town car. I could faintly hear a male voice cursing inside as the engine complained, stubbornly refusing to turn over.

  I ran up on the passenger's side, my hand grabbing for the handle. The door was unlocked, and I wrenched the door open, slid inside, and pulled it shut behind me in a single motion. Parts of my dress were probably caught in the door, now, but I was beyond caring about it at all now. "You have to get me out of here!" I said, turning towards the driver.

  My eyes rose from the bottom up. The driver was wearing black pants - in fact, he was wearing a full tuxedo. Looking quite stylish too, I had to admit. Only when my eyes reached his face did my mouth drop open, perfectly mirroring his look of pure, shocked astonishment.

  The mystery driver was Alex!

  The Wedding, Part II

  *

  As we gaped at each other, we both searched to find our words. Alex was the first one to recover. "Danielle," he gasped. "What in the world are you doing?"

  "Me?" I sputtered. Just like the engine of the car, my brain was refusing to turn over. "What about you? Are you trying to run away from our wedding?"

  Letting go of the key in the ignition for a moment, Alex waved a hand in a helpless gesture back towards the church behind us. "Did you hear about everything that was happening back in there?" he offered. His mouth kept on working, as though he was searching for the right words to explain. "Look, you heard me when I said yesterday that I wouldn't hesitate to throw out someone if they misbehaved - but I can't kick out your entire family and my best man to boot. There wouldn't be enough people left!"

  I couldn't believe that this man, this ridiculous, stupid man that I had for some reason agreed to marry, was running away from my family. Still sitting on the passenger seat of the car, my mind suddenly flashed back to our conversation after his proposal. I warned him about my family; I vividly remembered telling him that they were nearly impossible to deal with. Then, Alex had brushed off the warning. Now, it seemed, my family had finally conquered him, triumphing over love.

  I slumped down in the seat as Alex tried turning the key in the ignition once more. He glanced over at me, looking as though he was considering whether it would be more prudent to hold his tongue. "Are you coming with me?" he asked at length, his voice sounding unsure, as if he didn't even know what answer he wanted to hear.

  To be honest, I had no idea. Despite the fact that I had been also intending to run away, I didn't know whether I wanted anything more to do with this man. A small voice in my head whispered to me that perhaps it would be better for us to part ways now, for me to never lay eyes or hear his voice again for the rest of my life. And if he was to drive away now, I was certain that I would be rid of him for good.

  On the other hand, the rest of my mind logically pointed out, I would then be trapped here, at my nightmare of a wedding, now with no groom to even offer an avenue of escape. And at the moment, it seemed that Alex controlled the only car available.

  "I'm coming," I replied, not making eye contact with the miserable man. I strapped on my seat belt over my ugly, pre-wedding clothes and sagged down in the seat until I could no longer see out over the dashboard.

  I could sense that Alex wanted to say something more, but I didn't find out what that would be. He shut his mouth with a faint clicking of teeth and put the car into gear, pulling out of its spot and heading out of the parking lot. He didn't offer any guidance as to his destination, and I didn't feel like asking.

  After a few minutes of us cruising along the suburban roads, escaping the church's neighborhood, I had to pull myself back up to a more normal sitting height so that I could see out. "Whose car is this, anyway?" I asked, looking around the interior for the first time. It looked like a typical sedan, although some sort of metal contraption appeared to have been shoved into the back seat.

  "It's my Uncle Rodney's," Alex replied. "He was the only around when I freaked out, and I didn't have my own keys on me, so I took his."

  There were tennis balls attached to a couple of the poles sticking out of the apparatus in the back seat. "Does he know that you're making off with his walker?" I said, finally figuring out how the rods unfolded.

  "Considering that it belongs to Aunt Edna, I'm sure he's quite all right with it," Alex responded, a brief smile flickering around the corners of his face. He glanced sideways at me and noticed my confused expression. "You met them, remember? They were at my family's Christmas the year before last. Au
nt Edna was the one in that bright red sweater with her dog's face on it."

  Through the haze of time and too much nervous eggnog, I remembered a short and squat woman, her bright red clothing combining unfortunately with her figure to leave me with the lasting impression of a fire hydrant. This comparison was further cemented by the fact that her face bore an uncomfortable resemblance to the pug on her sweater. She had greeted me by pinching both cheeks and stage whispering something about 'good stock', while her husband, a rather sad and wispy looking man, had stood in the background. I could see why Uncle Rodney would be all right with his wife's movement being handicapped for the evening.

  I turned my gaze to the window, watching the trees roll by. "Wait a minute," I spoke up. "Where are we headed, anyway?"

  Again, Alex looked a little uncomfortable. He reached into the inside of his suit jacket, and I heard the rustle of papers. He withdrew a small booklet of various folded documents, and tossed it to me. "Our honeymoon tickets are in there," he said, keeping his eyes straight forward instead of looking at me.

  Outrage reared its head. "You were going to go on our honeymoon alone?" I exclaimed in shock, glaring at him. "Really? That's what you were going to do to escape the wedding? Go off to Hawaii to recover? Maybe find a girl on the beach to help you cope?"

  Now he turned and looked at me, but his face wore shock, rather than guilt. "What? Of course not!" he shot back. "But those tickets are vouchers, so I can trade them in for any other flights that cost about the same amount! I know that my friend Barney, out in New York, couldn't make it to the wedding because he's got some sort of big business deal going on out there, and so I was going to just head out and crash with him for a while until this all blew over."

  I dug through the papers that he had tossed into my lap, trying to unfold the creases in the documents by smoothing them on my knees. "Yeah, since there aren't any pretty girls out in New York," I commented sarcastically. I found the tickets, and sure enough, I quickly spotted the "exchangeable" phrase at the bottom. There were a couple other sheets of printer paper, however, wrapped around the tickets. "What are these?" I asked, starting to unfold them as well.

  Slowing the car at a stop sign, Alex glanced over at the papers, but then made a half-hearted attempt to grab them out of my hands. "Um, nothing," he stammered. "Just some private stuff. Here, I'll take those back, thanks!"

  I fended off his groping hand, however, and opened them up to see what my companion was trying to hide. I managed to get the first sheet open, and read the header. "Vows," I said out loud, and then stopped. These were Alex's wedding vows?

  *

  Alex made one more attempt to retrieve his wedding vows from me, but I once again blocked his grab. "Fine, go ahead," he said instead, waving his hand irritably. "I suppose that at least someone should get to read them, for all the work that I put into writing those."

  I unfolded the sheet and began reading. As my eyes made their way down the page, I slowly raised one hand, tightening it into a fist and sticking it partway into my mouth in attempt to hold back any sort of sound.

  Danielle, my love:

  These last six months have been a whirlwind of craziness. I'm pretty sure that you've been stretched further planning this wedding than ever before in your life, and it's showed. I've seen you snap at people, myself included, and struggle to try and make sure that every detail is perfect. You expressly forbid me from providing any help with the plans, but I've watched from the sidelines as they've threatened to overwhelm you.

  And I'll admit, these last few months have been hard. Even when you aren't at work, I almost never get to see you, and even when I can pry you away from the wedding plans, I can see them weighing on your mind. You must have felt guilty about every moment that you weren't working on getting everything organized; why else would you carry that damn binder with you everywhere - even when we went out to eat, into the movie theater, or even with you when you went to the bathroom? After that, I really didn't want to help out.

  But I want to make it clear to you, right here and now - none of this matters to me. This whole wedding? I would gladly skip the whole ordeal if you didn't want it. Because I don't need to see you in this white dress, or have a priest say any sort of blessing over us. I've been blessed ever since you walked into my life, and you will always be the most beautiful woman in the world to me. Danielle, I don't care about whether flowers are white or pink, whether the bride's family sits on the left or the right. All I care about is your happiness, and I will do whatever you ask of me to keep you happy.

  I love you, Danielle Jansen, and I will hold on to you for the rest of my life.

  Despite my fingers in my mouth managing to hold back the open sobs, tears were welling up in my eyes and forming tiny channels as they flowed down my face, cutting through my perfect makeup. I wiped at them with a sleeve, not even caring any longer about the streaks in my mascara that this action caused. "Alex," I managed to get out, around my fist, before I had to cut off, afraid that I would burst into full-on wails.

  He looked over at me, his face full of concern. "Are you all right?" he asked, with a surprising amount of urgency. Only then did it occur to me that, by trying to talk around a full mouth, it may have sounded vaguely like I was actually choking.

  I waved my hand at him, trying to communicate that I was fine, it was just a lot of emotion welling up, and that furthermore it would be very advantageous if he could find a place to pull over, maybe near somewhere that would sell chocolate to a woman in a torn and stained wedding dress. This was a lot to communicate with a wave, but Alex had always been a good listener; he turned off the road into a convenience store parking lot.

  "Danielle, talk to me," he said, once the car was safely stopped.

  I opened my mouth again, but a wail immediately escaped, and I thrust my fist back in before any more could come out. Instead, I pulled out my purse from where it had slipped underneath the folds of my dress, popping the clasp that held it shut. I reached inside and pulled out the folded piece of paper sticking up between the dollar bills, passing it over to Alex.

  Still looking a little unsure, Alex unfolded this paper, pressing it on the steering wheel. As he smoothed it out, he pressed a little too hard, making the car honk and both of us jump. He eventually got it open, however, and began to read. I didn't need to look at the paper; I had struggled enough over the words to have learned them all by heart.

  Alex,

  Ever since I met you, you have always been the most understanding man I have known. When I had to cancel a date, you believed my excuses, as ridiculous as they seemed. You never second-guessed or questioned me, and I knew, whenever I talked to you, that you believed in me. No matter my stance, you were behind me, supporting me. And I've put that faith through the wringer.

  I don't always get along with my family, and to be honest, they don't always even get along with each other most of the time. And I was concerned about exposing you to this, because it's a lot to ask someone to handle - even if they love me. But ever since I began planning this wedding, you have put up with every single hurdle, never getting upset, always just asking what you could do to help. When I would complain to you, sharing my stress, you simply swallowed it up in that unending reservoir of faith in me that you have.

  Alex, I know that I haven't been the perfect fiance during these last few months. But where I lack in being a fiance, I promise to make up for in being a wife. You are my perfect man, and I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you - to wake up every morning with you, as Mrs. Danielle Wilson.

  I love you.

  I saw Alex's mouth form these last three words as he read. He paused for a moment, and then slowly lowered the sheet of paper down to his lap. We both sat there, each other's wedding vows sitting on our laps. There was a feeling hanging in the air - a tenuous, fragile sensation. Neither of us wanted to speak, for fear of what would happen if that feeling was disturbed.

  Finally, Alex turned his head slightly, jus
t enough so that his eyes could meet mine. He didn't speak, however, and so I was the first to break the silence.

  "So, what now?" I asked.

  Alex opened his mouth, but the words seemed to be stuck to his tongue, not wanting to come out. He closed it, but then opened it again. "I've never changed how I felt about you, Danielle," he said finally, carefully picking and choosing his words. He kept his eyes on me, watching intently for my reaction.

  "Alex," I began, but then I had to stop as well. I had to choose my words carefully as well. "Alex, even though I wrote these vows months ago, they're still completely true. That's still how I feel."

  The man sitting next to me nodded. "I really, really don't want to deal with breaking up my brother and your sister, though," he said, and that tipped the scales.

  I couldn't hold back any longer. I tipped my head forward, hanging it down almost to between my legs, my entire body shaking. I had been holding in all of this emotion so long, and I couldn't go any longer; I had to release, to just give up and let it out.

  *

  From between my legs, the peals of laughter echoed up, bouncing around the entire car. When I finally managed to sit up again, tears were once more pouring down my face - but this time, they were tears of mirth.

  A moment later, my light, high laughs were joined by the ringing bellow of Alex as he also burst out into laughter. We both sat in the car, side by side, letting out all of the frustration and pent-up irritation from the last few months in one giant, cathartic bout of hilarity. I hoped that nobody was outside our vehicle; they would probably be thoroughly confused by the sounds coming from within.