My Big Fat Fake Wedding

by Landish, Lauren

  I laugh, vowing to never tell her I thought she had seen a tarantula, despite the fact that that’s highly unlikely.

  The DJ takes over while Violet and I take our seats, catching our breath and watching everyone have some fun. The DJ’s good, mixing in songs for every age.

  A few minutes later, a sultry guitar riff comes through the speakers and Violet smiles and says, “Oh, here we go again.” She’s up and pulling me to the floor when I recognize Carlos Santana’s Maria, Maria. She starts to sway, and I let her hips guide me as the dance floor fills back up with Italians, Italian-Greeks, Italian-Americans, and just everyone who feels the groove moving their feet and asses.

  “I guess everyone caught their breath?” I whisper in her ear. We’re not exactly dirty dancing, but it’s as close as we can get with her in the poof of her wedding dress. Why does there have to be so much fabric?

  Violet smiles as she looks up at me through her lashes. “This is Mom’s absolute favorite. She’s been obsessed with Santana since she was a kid, and when this song came out, she always joked it was about her. I think she watched interviews where Santana talked about the song just so she could hear him say her name.

  “Your mom’s a super fan? Good to know if I ever need to get out of the doghouse with her." I’m just joking, of course, but knowing something personal about Maria and dancing around the floor with the family makes me feel welcomed and accepted into their crazy family. It’s a good feeling, even if it’s under false pretenses.

  Later, Nana and Papa Russo get lots of ‘awws’ and a few tears as they slowly sway together to Sinatra, while laughs erupt when Archie and Aunt Sofia decide to do an impromptu dance off.

  “I can out boogie your skinny butt any day of the week!” Sofia declares as she pops a few nifty steps that I have to admit are impressive for an old woman with a bad hip. “Challenge, honey!”

  “Oh, it’s on now, lady!” Archie declares, doing a few shuffle steps before spinning and dropping into a half-split. I don’t know how he doesn’t split his pants or pull a muscle. “Now match that!”

  It goes back and forth, everyone getting into the act as Archie busts out everything from the Roger Rabbit to the Dougie, while Sofia more than holds her own, doing the best septuagenarian floss I’ve ever seen.

  Finally, both of them collapse into laughter, Archie sweeping Sofia up in a big hug and carrying her in his arms off the dance floor to set her carefully in her chair. “I give up. You’re too much for me.”

  “Too bad you play for the other team because I’d love to show you just how ‘too much’ I am!” Sofia jokes back loudly, earning even more laughter.

  The DJ directs everyone to their tables and the wait staff begins delivering dinner. It’s delicious, fresh salads for our first course, followed by a tasting menu of chicken parmigiana, steak, and fresh pasta in cream sauce. It’s so good that not even Nana and Sofia argue about the salt content and instead just dig in like everyone else does.

  It’s time for speeches, and as they set up the microphone, I glance over at Violet, who looks so beautiful and happy that I feel the powerful emotions and words bubble up inside me again and I can’t hold back any longer. “Violet?”

  “Yeah?” she asks, looking over. She slurps a little bit, grinning at the yummy pasta. I’m glad to see her enjoying some real food at this point, but there’s a tiny dribble of sauce by the corner of her mouth.

  I press my lips to hers, letting my tongue peek out to taste her sweetness and the richness of the cream. “I just wanted to say . . . I wanted to say that I—”

  “Congratulations!” Abi calls from the microphone, cutting me off, and we look up to see her grinning hugely. I decide the words can wait because though I know I want to say them, it probably would be better when it’s just the two of us. “God, it feels like I’ve waited for this day since . . . well, forever!”

  A ripple of laughter goes through the crowd, and Abi continues. “Ross and Violet, what can I say? I knew from about two minutes after Violet met Ross that she was enamored with him, even though she tried to hide it by calling him names. My brother, though . . . let’s just say he was a bit blind to Violet’s charms.”

  She glares at me with a raised brow, but it’s softened by a sly smirk, and I shrug. “I never said I was the smart sibling . . . that’s Courtney.” I look over to see my youngest sister smiling triumphantly.

  “Regardless, caught somewhere between the both of you, I felt like I was the only one who could see what the two of you refused to see. Ross, you’re a pain in the ass, but you’ve got the biggest heart I’ve ever seen. You fight for what you believe in, and you’ve protected me more than once from . . . lots of stuff. And you kept my secrets, like the time I snuck out of the house so that Violet and I could go to the club, shh.”

  I glance over at Mom and Dad, who both exchange surprised looks, but I’m grinning because that was probably the only time Abi pulled something like that. And not only had I covered for her, but unbeknownst to them, I’d followed her and Violet to make sure they were safe.

  “And Violet, you are the sweetest, most loyal friend a girl could have. I would not be the confident risk-taker I am today without you—and your notes in statistics. Actually, I’d probably be taking that class for the tenth time without your getting me through it.”

  She chokes up a bit and fans her face, looking up to the ceiling to stop the tears from falling. “In some ways, I’m jealous of Ross because he’s going to take away some of the times we get to share. He’s going to be the one you confide in, the one you tell your dreams to . . . but at the same time, I’m happy about it. I want you both to hold on to each other, to let your love keep growing. And twenty years from now, when you’re both at your kid’s high school graduation—”

  Someone in the back yells out, “Their twins’ graduation!” and a chuckle resonates through the room again.

  Abi nods. “Wouldn’t that be awesome? But just remember who set you two up. I get the credit for this little match made in heaven.” She points from me to Violet and smiles.

  For all her scheming, she’s not half bad. I could definitely do worse for a sister.

  I laugh, and Violet joins in, both of us hugging Abi when she comes over. “I love you, Abs,” I whisper to her, and she hugs me harder. “Thank you.”

  “I’m serious about that twenty-year thing,” Abi whispers. “Your little sister sees all.” She wiggles her fingers in the air, like she’s casting a witchy spell over us, but I don’t need one to be in love with Violet.

  “Yeah, well—”

  “Excuse me.”

  The voice is unfamiliar, but as soon as it comes over the speakers, Violet goes pale and looks toward the stage. “No—” she quietly says in horror.

  I follow her gaze and see Colin Radcliffe holding the microphone that Abi just abandoned. He’s sharply dressed in a suit, but his face is twisted in smug satisfaction. “What is he doing up there?” I ask out loud to no one in particular.

  “Sorry to interrupt, folks, but I figured before this . . . farce went on any longer,” Colin says to the stunned crowd who are looking at each other with questions in their eyes, “well, I wanted to put my two cents in. I’d have spoken at the wedding, but a certain maid of honor saw me and made sure a couple of the bride’s cousins escorted me out.” He glares at Abi, and even from here, I can see a couple of guys getting up to make their way toward Colin. I’m pretty sure the one in the front is Rafael, and I’m glad he’s putting his muscle to good use today.

  “Get off the stage!” I call out, standing to lend Violet’s family a hand.

  Colin must sense that his time is running out because he begins talking faster, his face turning red with impotent fury.

  “What’s the problem, Ross?” Colin taunts with an ugly sneer. “Afraid everyone’s going to learn the truth? That this wedding, this whole romance, is nothing but a lie? It’s all fake.”

  Shit. Fuck. That motherfucker.

  I move towar
d the stage, but out of the corner of my eye, I see the camera crew moving, and a sick dropping feeling hits me. If I go after him, I’m damned. If I don’t, he talks, and I’m damned.

  I try to remember what Violet told me about this guy, which admittedly isn’t much because we’d spent most of our time talking about each other and the future. But she said he’s all about image, so I play to that weakness with an insult, hoping to put questions in folks’ minds about whatever he’s going to say.

  “Sour grapes are so tacky. You’re insane, Colin.”

  “Jilted lovers often are,” Radcliffe replies, his voice not shaky at all, though he’s feigning sadness as he looks at Violet.

  “For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Violet’s previous fiancé, or one of them, at least, because it does seem like she’s collecting them.” He laughs harshly into the microphone like he told a joke with his salacious suggestion. People murmur and look to one another in confusion.

  “You broke up with me, Colin. What are you doing? Why are you doing this?” Violet yells hysterically, standing up but staying behind the table when Abi puts a hand on her arm, keeping her in place.

  Colin whirls on Violet, “I did, but I made a mistake. This was supposed to be our wedding–our venue, our ceremony, our day. You should have fought for us. But nooo, Violet Russo’s too good for that. Hell, I even tried to get you back and you turned your back on me. No one does that to Colin Radcliffe.”

  The furious proclamation has weight, floating dangerously in the air. That he’s talking about himself in third person only amplifies how crazy he sounds, which I hope works in our favor.

  “But you’ll pay,” he threatens darkly.

  He pulls out his phone and clicks the screen. A video begins playing, too small to see from where I am, but he holds it up to the microphone, and I recognize Violet’s voice at the same time everyone else does. It’s muffled, like she’s on a speakerphone, but it’s obviously her.

  “I’m scared, Abs,” Violet says on the recording. “I’m scared everyone’s going to find out this is all fake and it’s all going to fall apart in flames of glory. I’ll be the laughingstock of the city, and Ross will be a pariah, any hopes he has of improving his reputation at work dashed by our secret arrangement.”

  Then we hear Abi’s answer. “No one is going to find out that it’s a fake marriage so you can both save face. You’re going to walk down that aisle and make your Papa proud for his last days, and Ross is going to get Dad off his back and kick ass at work. And—"

  It’s like a bomb just dropped on the whole reception.

  Abi and Violet are pale and look like they’re going to be sick. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Maria Russo burst into tears, and suddenly, everyone’s talking over one another, yelling and gesturing and just trying to figure out in two different languages what the fuck’s going on.

  On my side of the room, Mom also looks horrified while Courtney looks betrayed. Dad, for his part, is turning a pinkish purple of rage, and I can read the ‘I knew it’ in his glittery eyes.

  “So congratulations to the whore and groom on a well-done performance.” He gives a light golf-style clap against the microphone with a satisfied smile. “May your fake marriage be as real as your fake romance,” Colin says, standing up and dropping the mic on stage.

  “What’s he talking about?”

  “How could you!”

  “Violet!”

  “Ross!”

  I can’t put voices to faces. There are too many people yelling at once and too many of the same questions being asked. I look at Violet, who’s got tears running down her cheeks, and I know what I need to do.

  Pushing through the crowd, I beat Rafael to the stage and jump up next to Colin. I’m already murderous, but Colin looks so self-satisfied, it angers me even more. “You’re welcome. She’s such a cold bitch, right?”

  His switch from heated, spoiled entitlement to bro-casual chatter is disgusting. He’s ruined everything, for Papa, for Violet, for me, and doesn’t care in the least.

  My fist flies even before I know it, catching him under the chin and sending him tumbling into the DJ’s equipment. I can hear and see the flashing lights as the news cameras catch it all, but I don’t care.

  I’ve got one chance to fix this. Reaching down, I pick up Colin’s dropped microphone. “Everyone, please, this isn’t—”

  Colin’s punch catches me blind, and I go stumbling back a few steps before he swings on me again. Suddenly, we’re in a full-on fight, falling to the stage and rolling back and forth as we exchange punches and elbows.

  I don’t want to hurt him . . . well, at least that’s not my number-one priority. All I want is to get on the microphone to explain to everyone how what started as one thing has changed into another.

  Violet’s scream pierces the haze just as I blast Colin in the nose with a sharp elbow that sends his head smacking backward into the stage. I look over, but she’s forgotten me as she kneels in front of Stefano.

  “Papa!” she screams again as he slumps to the side, his hand on his chest and his eyes rolling backward. “Papa!”

  Dimly, I hear someone else pick up the cry and another voice screaming for an ambulance.

  And for the first time in my life, I have no answers at all.

  Chapter 24

  Violet

  The waiting room feels like an interrogation room. Not that I’ve ever been in one, but I’ve seen enough on television to know this is what the bad guy feels like when he knows he’s been busted.

  The triplets are staring at me with utter hatred in their eyes, and a few of my other cousins all look like they’d kick me out of the family if they had the option. I’m sitting in a chair, surrounded by my family, but I’ve never felt more alone.

  It’s because of me that Papa’s here in the hospital.

  If he dies, the coroner can put whatever he wants on the paperwork, but the truth is he’s going to die of a broken heart . . . and I’m the one who broke it.

  Finally, Mom speaks. “Do you feel any shame at all about what you’ve done?”

  “Mom, I—”

  “Quiet!” Mom thunders, getting out of her chair to tower over me. She’s not that tall, but right now, I feel like I’m five years old again and she’s a giant that I have to crane my neck to look up to. “Just shut your mouth, Violet! You . . . you lied to us! You lied to your family, you lied to me, your own mother! Why? What reason could you have for this . . . this charade? What could be so important to you that you’d bring shame on yourself and on your family—”

  “Maria.”

  “You’ve disgraced yourself, Violet Antonia Carlotta Russo,” she spits out.

  “Maria Valentina!”

  Nana’s voice cuts through Mom’s yelling, and she takes a step back, tears coursing down her cheeks. “Never,” Mom whispers, “never have I been so . . . disappointed in you.”

  Mom sits down, and I swallow my tears, looking down at my hands in my lap. I’m still wearing my wedding dress, the white silk stained reddish-purple in spots where wine spilled on me as I rushed to Papa’s side.

  “Mom, I—” I start, choking back my tears to try and be mature and adult. I can’t change what I’ve done, but I can be the woman that she and Papa raised me to be from here on out.

  “I don’t want to hear it, Violet. Not right now.”

  “You asked me why, and—”

  “You’ve heard of a rhetorical question, haven’t you?” Mom snarls.

  “Maria!” Nana snaps, her voice brooking no argument. “I raised you better than that.”

  Mom looks like she’s about to snap at Nana, and I whimper at the thought. Nana and Mom fighting? And Aunt Sofia sitting calmly next to her sister, being a supportive rock because she’s been through this already?

  It’s too much, and I feel like I’m about to crawl out of my skin.

  The waiting room door opens and Ross comes in, his hand wrapped in an elastic bandage and another large bandage cove
ring his eyebrow. After he and Colin finished beating the shit out of each other, he’d gotten a nasty gash that the emergency room doc insisted on treating, probably to keep the crowd down.

  “Get out!” Mom yells at him, starting to get back up again, but Aunt Sofia grabs her and holds her back. From her seat, she waves her hands. “Get out. You are not family, not really. Look what you have done, what you have both done. Stupid children!”

  Ross starts to speak, but a doctor comes in. “Mrs. Russo?”

  I can hear it in her voice, everyone can, but Nana’s a rock. She stands with all the dignity of a queen, her voice barely quavering. “Yes, I’m Angela Russo.”

  Ross comes to my side, and this time, at least, Mom doesn’t say anything because all of us are laser-locked on the doctor and what news she might bring.

  “Mrs. Russo, we’re doing the best we can, but I want to warn you that there’s a real chance he might not make it through the night. If there’s a priest or other spiritual advisor you’d like to contact, now is the time.”

  Her words shatter me, and the tears that I’ve struggled to hold back since I saw Papa collapse pour forth.

  This was supposed to be the best day of my life. I’d tried to give Papa that last happy memory, to make his dying wish come true.

  Instead, it’s become my worst nightmare, and as Sofia supports her sister, I feel worse than I’ve ever felt before.

  Nana, though, as much as she must be breaking on the inside, draws upon that well of strength she has.

  “May I see him?”

  The doctor nods, leading Nana and Mom to the back but stopping everyone else with a shake of her head. In the silence that follows the door swinging closed, I want to scream in anguish, but I can’t. Not after the strength Nana just showed.

  “I think there’s a conversation you need to have,” Aunt Sofia says, lifting her chin at Ross.

  I can’t do this, not now. My brain is too fried, my heart too filled with fear, but she’s right. “Let’s step out,” I tell Ross, wanting to get away from the glares of my family. They’re frigid with me, but they look like they’re plotting Ross’s murder.