The Beginning

by Teigen Harper

  “Funckle?” I ask, skeptically.

  “Fun uncle.” He shrugs.

  “Where the hell did you get that from?”

  “Rob Dyrdek. Pretty cool, huh?” he says as he takes a sip of champagne.

  “It really is.” I chuckle.

  As I take a sip, I hear a beeping sound coming from his pocket. He takes his phone out and checks the screen. “Shit, I've gotta go. Chloe’s almost at the bus depot.” He places his glass down on the bench and begins to rush. He pats down his pockets and then starts cursing. “Shit, shit.”

  “What’s the matter, Hun?” I ask.

  He looks up at me. “I can’t remember where I left my keys.”

  “Go into the house. My keys are on the bench. Just take the BMW.” I laugh when I see his eyes pop. Hamish, like myself, is a bit of a car enthusiast. He has the same giddy look on his face that I wore the first time I sat in the driver’s seat of the BMW. “Just promise me, that if you end up having sex in the back, you’ll disinfect every inch of those seats. Okay?”

  He comes forward and wraps his arms around me. “I promise, I will wipe away all of my cum stains before handing back the keys.” He lets go of me and races out the door.

  I shake my head. “That is one of the most disgusting things anyone has ever said to me.” I’m pretty sure I just threw up a little in my mouth.

  “Dude, there is no way in hell I'm getting into the back seat of that car, ever again.” I look at Court and begin to laugh. She’s utterly repulsed and looks as if she is about to throw up, for real.

  “You’ll live,” I say as I continue to laugh.

  While Heather and the other girl whose name I haven’t caught, apply the finishing touches on my makeup, I notice Courtney and Zoe come down from the back of the bus, wearing their bride’s maid’s dresses. “You both look beautiful.” They do, and I know for sure that I chose right. The dresses are lilac in color, cut just above the knee with a fitted, almost corset, and finished with shoestring straps over their shoulders.

  “Alright, my dear, you are all set and ready to put your wedding dress on,” Heather announces, more so to the room rather than just to me.

  I stand with confidence. I am more than ready to marry the man I love. The girls take my dress out of the garment bag and hold it so I can step into it. Once it's done up at the back, I move to the mirror and check out my reflection.

  The dress is as beautiful as I remember. It’s white with a black train, the top section is a halter with black trim and has diamantes lining the edges. “It’s perfect,” I whisper.

  “It really is,” Courtney tells me while by my side. To stop any tears that could arise in the next few moments, I ask, “Can one of you make me a coffee, but make sure there’s a straw in it?

  I can see in Zoe’s expression, and she knows I’m trying to find a distraction. “One huge coffee coming up.”

  The moment I sip the last of the latte, there’s a knock at the door. “Come in,” I call. When the door opens, I smile when I see my granddad lug up the steps in his black suit. He looks so adorable. “Hi, Granddad. Is it time to go?” I ask, and he nods. “You look fabulous,” I tell him.

  He takes my hands in his. “So do you, my dear girl. Are you ready to do this? Cynthia tells me it’s time.” He leans in and kisses my cheek.

  I know I’m ready. Tristan is the man that will one day, be the father of my children. He will be the one I sit with holding hands while we watch our grandchildren run around the yard. “I was born ready.” I link my arm through his while Zoe collects my shoes. She kneels before me, raises the bottom of my dress, and slips them on my feet.

  “Okay, let’s go.”

  Granddad leads me to the back of the tent where we are met by Cynthia, who tells us to wait while she gets the music organized for my entrance.

  While we wait, my mind drifts to my mother, and how I wish things could have been different. But with there being a restraining order in place, I can’t see us having any kind of decent relationship in the near future.

  Moments later, Cynthia emerges from the rear of the tent and seems to be stress-free, the one thing I desperately wanted was for her not to panic or care if something went wrong. “Okay Courtney, you’re up,” Cynthia directs.

  Courtney beams with confidence, and she glances in my direction and smiles before she disappears through the flaps of the tent walls.

  Next up, is Zoe. Then another minute later, Cynthia informs me that it's time, and I become desperate to see Tristan. I hear our song, ‘HIM - Right Here In My Arms,’ begin to play and when the flap is pulled back, there's only one person I see. He’s standing in his three-piece black suit wearing a smile that is filled with love and lust. Damn, he looks good.

  As I begin to walk with Granddad, someone else catches my attention, and now it’s my turn to smile. Just as he promised, my dad is standing at Tristan’s side.

  As we arrive at the top of the alter, Granddad turns to me and kisses my cheek. “Good luck to you, my dear girl. I love you, and I know your father is so very proud of you.” I see the tears in his eyes.

  I wrap my arms around my Granddad, and I whisper, “I know he is, I know he's watching over us as we speak.” My eyes find my fathers, and he gives me a warm smile. “I love you, thank you for being here.” I then pull out of the embrace, kiss him one more time before he places my hand into Tristan’s waiting one. “Hey, you,” I whisper, but all I want to do is climb up him, wrap my legs around his waist and press my lips to his, but I guess that it would be classed as inappropriate.

  “Hey, yourself.” The corners of his mouth etch upwards and form a warm, beautiful smile. With my hand still in his, he moves closer to my side. I do my best to concentrate on the service being led by our celebrant Maddog, but my eyes continue to wander up to Tristan’s. A moment passes, and his hand lets go of mine, but then he snakes his arm around my waist and pulls me so I'm resting against him, my head against his chest. My safe place. Here, no one can hurt me.

  We'd asked Maddog, to keep the ceremony short. I’ve never been a fan of attending weddings, and I also hate the attention that comes along with them.

  The moment the vows have been read, and our rings exchanged, I glance over to my father fully expecting to see a sense of pride and happiness on his face, but when I look up at him, my heart sinks. He’s paying no attention to what just happened, but I’m not mad, I know he would never become this distracted without good reason.

  I take a breath before I muster up the courage to turn and search for whatever it is that's causing my father so much grief. I search the crowd, but it only takes a minute to find the source, and when I do, I stiffen. Now my stomach feels as if it's twisting inside me. I want to throw up. My jaw begins to tingle, and my mouth is now filling with saliva.

  “What’s the matter, baby girl?” Tristan whispers. I turn my attention back to him, horror was written across my face. I’m finding it hard to speak. Tristan ducks his head so we're eye to eye. “Cass, you’re starting to worry me.”

  I can feel the bile rising in my throat, so I swallow before answering him, “My mother's here.”

  He glances behind us and then his eyes are back, staring into mine. “Fuck!”

  The room remains silent, and I know that everyone is wondering what the hell is going on, but I’m not sure what I should do. While my brain searches for answers, my Uncle George approaches. “What’s going on? Are you both okay,” he sounds worried, and he should be. I don’t know what the fuck will come from this, but I do know that it isn’t going to be pretty.

  I lean in closer to George. I don’t want anyone overhearing what I have to say, not while I am supposed to be enjoying the best day of my life. “Rose is standing up the back. I know she was served with the order, the lawyer called to confirm,” I tell him. I want to go back there myself and beat the living shit out of her. How could she do this to me on my wedding day? She isn’t here out of the goodness of her heart, no, she’s here for attention. She w
ants sympathy, but I know there isn’t one person here that would take her side, or feel sorry for her. I thought I disliked her before, now, it’s turning into hatred.

  George nods. “I’ll take care of her. Don’t let this wreck your day.” He kisses my cheek, shakes Tristan’s hand, and walks to the back of the tent.

  I continue to watch as George gathers Brendan along with Hamish and when they’re close to Rose, I begin to relax. I turn my attention back to Maddog and tell him we’re okay to continue. He nods and looks down at his notes. But before he continues, Tristan grabs my attention, “Are you okay?” he whispers, his breath sweeps across my neck, my eyes closed, and my knees grow weak. It takes a moment, but I do manage to nod.

  Once I’d regained control of my hormones, I open my eyes and let Maddog finish. Before he even managed to say the words, 'You may now kiss the bride,' Tristan’s lips are on mine. He is kissing me as if we're alone. At first, I felt a little shocked, but before long, I melted against him. I don’t know how long we stood there making out, but we pulled apart when we hear Zoe clear her throat.

  We glance around the room and begin to laugh. “Sorry, Maddog. I got a little carried away,” Tristan apologizes.

  He holds up his hands. “No need to be sorry. It’s nice to see a couple so in love that they don’t give a rat’s ass who’s around to see it.” He shakes Tristan’s hand and kisses my cheek. He then leans back and focuses on the rest of the room. “May I introduce to you the new, Mr. and Mrs. Callaghan.” I laugh as the room roars with cheers.

  As we make our way to the back of the tent, with every step we take, we're met with congratulations and best wishes. I try to hurry Tristan along without seeming rude, but I need to see what the boys had done with my mother.

  Once we’ve left the tent, George is waiting for us. His smile is full of pride. “Congratulations.” He shakes Tristan’s hand, then envelops me in his warm, and loving embrace. “I’m so very proud of you, and I know your father is too. I know in my heart he’s here with us today.” My smile widens because all I want to do is shout from the rooftop that, yes, yes, he is here, but then it hits me, I'd look like a nut job.

  I pull away from George's embrace and thank him for his kind words. While I wrap myself around my now-husband, I ask, “So, where's the psycho bitch?” My brain is telling me to let the others deal with her, but my gut tells me that I should face her and not be a freaking wussy about it.

  Tristan tightens his hold on me while George answers, “Your uncle Will and Hamish are keeping her at bay until the police arrive.” George seems irritated now, but then again, my mother has that effect on most people.

  “Where are they?” I know I probably shouldn’t face her because I could be the one that ends up in cuffs, but it’s not fair leaving others to deal with my shit pile of a mess.

  Tristan leans down so his eyes are on mine. “Are you sure you want to do this? I can pass on a message for you. This is your day, and I don’t want anything or anyone getting in the way of your happiness.” How fucking adorable is he, volunteering to go and face the devil for me?

  I shake my head. I know this is my battle I have to face and take care of. This woman needs to be told again that she’s not welcome here, and that she has to be out of here before Courtney finds out she’s on the property. I will not let the bitch hurt her again. I meet Tristan’s gaze, his blue eyes staring into mine. “It’s okay, babe. It’s something I need to do for myself,” I explain.

  He leans down and presses his lips to mine. “If you change your mind, I’ll be in the tent keeping the guests from harassing you. I mean it, Cass, just yell, and I’ll be there in a heartbeat.” He cups my face in his hands. “Our life, our love, our forever.”

  George excuses himself to give us a minute alone.

  I wish I didn't have to deal with Rose, I’d have him in the bedroom right now, or in a bus, or behind a shed, honestly, I wouldn’t care where we were. I want him, and I can’t wait until I get the chance to have him alone.

  He knows what I think because his eyes darken with desire. “We could ignore everyone and head straight to our room.” He leans in and kisses my neck. I reach up and cup my hands behind his neck as he continues to move his lips along my jaw. “Fuck, I want you.” He trails his lips across my skin until they meet mine. I open and invite him in, his tongue sweeps the length of mine, and I whimper. When he pulls back and rests his forehead against mine, he breathes, “I love you, wife.”

  My eyes close while I let the fact that Tristan is now my husband, sink in. “I love you, husband.” I move my head to the side and kiss him again. Excitement swells within me. I have a husband. “I’d better go and see what she wants.” His hands move to my hips and he pulls me against him. If this dress didn’t have so many layers, I know that his bulge would be rubbing me in the right spot.

  “Do you have to?” His head is slightly tilted to the side, his eyes full of lust.

  “I should,” I breathe.

  “Okay. You’re sure you don’t want me to come?”

  “It’s okay. I can do it.” I reach up and kiss him. “I love you,” I whisper.

  “I love you, too. Remember, just shout.” He presses his lips to mine for a brief kiss and then I pull away and begin the search for the woman I loathe.

  Within moments, I find George, and he leads me around to the back patio where my mother, Hamish, and Uncle Will are seated. When I see her, the bile rises in my throat. She’s at the table with a filthy cigarette hanging out of her mouth, such a sexy look. Not.

  I come to a standstill ten feet away from the table, since I don’t wish to be any closer to the woman I find so very repulsive. Hamish and Will notice me and the angry expressions that had been on their faces immediately turn to worry. Neither of them moves, but I smile at the boys, I don’t want them stressing over me, but the smiles I receive in return, don’t reach their eyes. I shift my gaze back to where Rose sits, and I see that my father is standing beside her with hatred in his gaze. If looks could kill, the bitch would be dead.

  When she turns her head, and she sees that I’m standing on the decking, she throws her smoke to the ground, stands, and starts walking towards me. But before she can get any closer, Hamish has his arms around her waist, stopping her.

  “Rose, don’t. I know Cass isn’t here to make up with you. You can either shut your mouth and listen, or I can gag you until the cops arrive. It’s your choice.” He isn’t joking around.

  He's still holding her back when I ask, “What the fuck are you doing here, Rose?” My tone is quiet, my arms crossed in front of my chest and when I see her reaction, I close my eyes for a moment, out of frustration. ‘I don’t fucking believe it, the bitch looks confused,’ I think.

  She stopped fighting Hamish and brushed down her jacket, but Haim stayed close to her, ready to pounce at a moment’s notice. “I’m your mother, Cassie. I carried you for nine months, and I took care of you even when your asshole father left,” she spits out. That’s when dad looks as if he could be capable of finding a way to kill her, even in his deceased form.

  And all I can think about is the fact that poor Tristan isn’t even going to get a wedding night because his wife will be holed up in a cell waiting to be charged with murder. I take one step forward, and when I do, I see Hamish hold his arms out as if he is going to grab her again. “You were never a mother to us. You never did the things a parent should do. Like love and care for her kids, regardless of where the father is. You were just the incubator, plain and simple.”

  Whoa, the bitch looks like she is about to spontaneously combust. “Your deadbeat dad left us. He went off and made a life for himself, and he never loved you. If he did, he never would have moved out.” She seems happy with herself. I glance over to where my dad stands. He still looks like he’s ready to kill her. Could he grow angry enough to do something to her, like in the movie Ghost? Fuck, that would be funny. She’d get attacked, and no one would see who it did it except for me. Does it make me a h
orrible person because I want to see it happen? Probably. “I was the one that fed and clothed you, not him!” She screams, but I don’t react. I continue to stand in place and keep the smirk on my face because I know how much it infuriates her. “And the thanks I got,” she spits. “You turned my baby against me. I should have aborted you when I had the chance!”

  Okay, now the anger is bubbling to the surface, but I continue to keep a calm demeanor about me. This bitch is not going to get the better of me. I take a calming breath and begin. “He was always there when we needed him. When you thought that saving for your overseas holiday was more important than feeding your children, he ordered groceries to be sent to the house, all so that his daughters didn’t starve to death. Where the fuck did you think all of that food came from? Not you, that’s for sure. When you would refuse to take us shopping for clothes when we’d grown out of what we had, he would send us the money to go and get some. Again, Rose, where the fuck did you think we got the money to do that from? Where did all of the money go that he did send you? Your mortgage was one-hundred and fifty dollars a week, how the fuck was there no money? I’ll tell you why there wasn’t any. It's because you were and still are a selfish cow. You’d go out with your friends and have an amazing time while we stayed at home and had to fend for ourselves. You’re a lazy bitch that should have been sterilized at birth. Fuck off back to where you belong. The next time I want to see you is when I attend your funeral.”

  Her face is now pale, but I feel no pity for the woman standing in front of me. I'm done, I’ve said everything I've always wanted to say to her, and I feel as if a huge weight has been raised off me. I feel complete. When I turn on my heels to walk away, I run into Tristan. “Sorry babe.” I look up at him. How long has he been standing here?