Driven to Distraction & Winging It

by Tina Wainscott

  To Mackenzie’s relief, the iris turned out to be the suitable flower of choice. And though it had taken both Mackenzie and the florist running all over Charleston to collect every available iris in the city, by adding a few iris blooms in with the sainted carnations and daisies the wedding arrangements had turned out to be absolutely breathtaking by anyone’s standards.

  Except the bride in question, of course.

  Not that Angie wouldn’t have to accept the choice Mackenzie had made, because Angie would. Just as Mackenzie had been forced to accept the fact that her perfect plan to spend a leisurely afternoon before the wedding had been tossed to the wayside once she took on the role of flower arranger extraordinaire. Now, Mackenzie would barely have time to jump in the shower and throw on her dress before she was expected to be at the chapel with a smile on her face.

  Roaring into her parking space, the last thing Mackenzie needed was one of those disarming moments of sentimentality. But that’s exactly what happened when Mackenzie glanced wistfully at the vacant space where Alec’s Jaguar should have been. Without warning, a tidal wave of pent-up emotion washed over her the second she turned off the ignition. And all she could do was sit there and allow the quintessential downpour to run its course.

  And why shouldn’t she have a good cry? she kept asking herself.

  Sure, she’d kept up a false bravado for Angie’s sake, but there had been very few moments during the past weeks of hectic planning that Mackenzie hadn’t felt it should have been her own wedding she was planning with such a fervor, and that she and Alec should have been the honeymooners who were sailing off for the Florida Keys for a full month of blissful lovemaking. But plans like those were as unlikely as Angie being satisfied with the substitute flower arrangements she would find waiting for her at the chapel. Telling herself it was only her frayed nerves that had caused her to give in to such hopeless romanticizing in the first place, Mackenzie wiped her eyes with her fingertips, then left the car and hurried toward her building.

  Mackenzie knew Angie would only grumble over the modified flower arrangements, but she wouldn’t forgive her maid of honor strolling nonchalantly into the church late, with puffy, swollen, red-rimmed eyes.

  She’d have me killed right there on the spot, Mackenzie reminded herself, then turned her key in the lock and hurried into her bathroom to ready herself for the big event.

  ALEC THOUGHT SURVIVING the plane crash had been a miracle, but he couldn’t believe his good fortune when he found himself on the outskirts of Charleston that Saturday afternoon with almost forty-five minutes left to spare. And he owed his thanks for this miraculous occurrence to the grinning speed-demon with the braided hair, who had never slowed down under ninety miles an hour from the moment they hit the interstate in Atlanta.

  Alec was even beginning to believe Rafe’s claim that rubbing the shriveled rooster’s foot hanging from the taxi’s rearview mirror had brought them luck and helped speed them on their way.

  In fact, he had just let himself relax when he happened to look behind them to see that what he thought was the light at the end of his tunnel was actually the South Carolina State Police.

  “Damn,” Alec swore, pounding his fist against the door panel as the ominous blue light continued to flash them a warning signal.

  “Do you want Rafe to make a run through it?”

  “I think you mean a run for it, Rafe,” Alec corrected, “but no. You’d better pull over.”

  Rafe did as Alec instructed and seconds later two rather sullen policemen arrived at the side of the car. “What’s the big hurry today, boys?” one of the officers asked as both men looked at Rafe, then through the back window at Alec, who could only guess what the long arm of the law had to be thinking.

  They had stopped a speeding, broken-down taxi with Georgia license plates. They’d found some grinning dude with beads in his hair driving, and a shriveled rooster’s foot hanging from the rearview mirror. And they’d found a passenger who resembled the hunchback Quasimodo with his arm held grotesquely out to his side in a cast and dressed in, of all things, stolen green surgical scrubs.

  The possibilities were limitless, and Alec knew it. He and Rafe could be anything from drug dealers to circus performers. Alec only prayed Rafe didn’t have any type of contraband inside the taxi if the officers did decide to search it.

  “Driver’s license and registration,” Officer Grant, according to his name tag, demanded while the other officer moved back a bit further and spent his time giving Alec the once-over again through the back passenger’s side window.

  “What’s an Atlanta cabbie doing all the way down here in Charleston?” Officer Grant wanted to know when Rafe produced the necessary papers.

  “My flight out of Atlanta was canceled because of the airline strike,” Alec spoke up from the back seat. “And I have to be at the Stonehenge Chapel on Meeting Street before five o’clock this evening.”

  “What for? To hear your last rites?” Officer Grant asked with a chuckle. “Because you sure look like death warmed over to me.”

  After the two policemen shared a good laugh at Alec’s expense, Alec said, “I have to be at the chapel for my wedding.” The obvious lie prompted a frightened look from Rafe, but Alec ignored it and added, “My cabbie was just trying to get me to the church on time.”

  Officer Grant looked at Alec, then back at his partner. “I think this smart guy is trying to con us, Joe,” Officer Grant said with a sneer. “He must think we’re a couple of real morons if he expects us to believe he’s getting married dressed like that.”

  Common sense told Alec to just drop it while he still had the chance, but the two obviously bored officers were quickly eating up what little time Alec had left. “My tux is at the church,” Alec said as calmly as if be believed the second lie himself. “And we are running late. Could you please just write out the speeding ticket so we can be on our way? I sure don’t want to keep my pretty bride waiting at the altar.”

  The two officers exchanged knowing looks before handing back Rafe’s credentials. “You know, I think it might be a good idea if we gave this anxious groom a police escort to the wedding he doesn’t want to be late for,” Officer Grant said with a rather sadistic smile.

  Alec paled. “Uh, I sure don’t want to put you officers to any trouble. If you’ll just let us be on our way, I’m sure we can make it on time.”

  “Did you hear that, Joe?” Officer Grant said, elbowing his partner in the ribs. “The groom doesn’t want to put two idiots like us to any trouble.”

  Alec cringed when Officer Joe bent down and looked through the window at Alec again. “Yeah, isn’t that real sweet of him? Wonder if he’s smart enough to know the penalty for lying to a police officer?”

  Alec wiped away a bead of sweat before it rolled into his one good eye. “Of course, if you guys have the time to give us a police escort…”

  “We’ll make the time,” Officer Grant assured Alec, and minutes later Rafe was racing with the wind again behind a black and white police cruiser with a wide-open siren.

  “Mon, Rafe don’t want no part of no jail, don’t ya know,” Rafe said as he sent Alec a nervous glance over his shoulder. “And de jail will be a home for you and for me if you don’t come back out of dat church with de bride.”

  “She might be kicking and screaming, Rafe, but I promise you, I intend to come out of that church with the bride,” Alec assured his driver with a confident pat on the shoulder.

  Rafe nodded and mumbled something in his native patois, but Alec caught Rafe also reaching over and giving his rooster’s foot another hearty rub. A short time later, the siren stopped blaring and the police cruiser came to a stop almost three full blocks away from the church.

  Alec leaned forward in his seat, amazed at the long line of cars that were already parked on both sides of the street. In the distance he could even see a uniformed police officer standing in the middle of the street, trying to direct the bottleneck of traffic that was trying to
park in the vicinity of the Stonehenge Church.

  “Dis must be one big wedding, mon,” Rafe said, reading Alec’s thoughts.

  When the cruiser finally came in line with the traffic officer, the fellow officers chatted for a second before the traffic officer waved them through and directed them to a vacant space directly in front of the church. A worried Rafe followed close behind, then pulled into a vacant space directly behind the cruiser. Alec was still trying to figure out the next plausible plan of action when Rafe suddenly turned around and held out his palm.

  “Cash on delivery,” Rafe said, sending a nervous glance back over his shoulder at the two officers who were now walking in their direction. “Just as we agreed.”

  Alec reached into the pocket of his scrubs for his money clip at the same time Officer Grant opened Alec’s door and took him by his good arm. “Better hurry,” Grant insisted as he helped Alec out of the taxi. “We sure wouldn’t want the man of the hour to get married in those scrubs.”

  Alec managed to pull his arm free, then looked back through the open door at Rafe’s forlorn face. “Wait for me,” Alec said, deciding it probably wouldn’t be wise under the circumstances to flash a thousand dollars under the surly officer’s nose.

  “Don’t worry, your cabbie’s going to wait right here,” Officer Grant said with a laugh. “In fact, we’re all going to wait right here and pay our respects to the happy bride and groom. Aren’t we, Joe?”

  “I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” Officer Joe agreed and laughed when Officer Grant gave Alec a little push in the direction of the stone steps that led up to the church.

  Alec straightened his shoulders as best as he could with his arm in the ridiculous cast, tried to smooth his rumpled green surgical smock, then raked his fingers through what was left of his hair. He then marched up the steps with several other last-minute stragglers, who were all now gaping in his direction with open mouths. Holding his breath, Alec was only one step away from making it inside the church when an able-bodied usher suddenly stepped forward, blocking his path.

  “The soup kitchen isn’t open today, buster. You’ll have to come back tomorrow,” the goon in the tuxedo informed Alec as he crossed arms the size of tree trunks across his massive chest.

  Alec sent an anxious glance over his shoulder, relieved to see that his captors were currently talking over old times with their traffic cop buddy. “Look, I’m not some homeless person looking for a free meal,” Alec told the guy desperately. “I’m here for the wedding.”

  “Not dressed like that, you aren’t,” the bruiser informed Alec with a confident smirk.

  “Listen, buster,” Alec said, pronouncing the word with the exact inflection his adversary had used, “I’m a good friend of the groom. He expects me to be at this wedding.”

  “A good friend, hey?” Mr. Muscle-bound snorted. “Well, I just happen to be the groom’s first cousin, and I know for a fact that John would have my hide if I let some beat-up reject like you inside to stink up the church.”

  Alec was tempted to just push his way past the idiot, but he quickly gave up that idea when Officer Grant suddenly called out from behind him, “Hey, what’s the problem?”

  Alec looked back at the scowling policeman and waved, then surprised John’s cousin by reaching out and pumping his hand up and down several times. “Just finding out where I need to go, that’s all,” Alec called out as he headed back down the church steps, but when both officers started walking in his direction Alec made a mad dash around the side of the church and found a hiding place behind the heavy shrubbery that was planted along the side of the building.

  “Where in the hell did he go?” Officer Grant wanted to know when he and his partner bounded around the side of the church after Alec.

  “Damned if I know,” Officer Joe said, “but it’s not like he won’t stand out in the crowd.”

  “Well, one of us needs to sit on that cabbie,” Grant grumbled. “My guess is he’ll try to get back to the car.”

  “I’m on my way, now,” Officer Joe said. “Call me if you need any help when you find him.”

  “If I can’t take down a man with his arm in a cast and only one eye open, then I’d better quit the police force,” Grant snorted in his partner’s direction, then lumbered down the sidewalk in search of his soon-to-be prisoner.

  Alec waited several seconds, then parted the limbs of the thick spruce shrub he’d been hiding behind in time to see Officer Grant round the corner at the back of the building. Hurrying from his hiding place, Alec made a beeline for the side door of the church and when he was safely inside he headed for the stairs with a grimace. He had no idea exactly where the stairs would take him, but Alec knew the music filtering down from the upper floor of the church wouldn’t be hard to follow.

  Each step he climbed tortured every muscle in his still bruised body, but when the wedding march suddenly kicked into high gear, Alec fought back the pain and took the stairs two at a time. He had just opened the door at the top of the stairs and stepped into the main vestibule of the church when he caught a glimpse of a long white train disappearing through the doors that led into the main chapel.

  Without a second thought, Alec lumbered forward.

  If he lost his courage now, he would also end up losing the woman he loved.

  And Alec hadn’t spent the last twenty-four hours traveling across country under the most trying circumstances to get this close and back out now.

  10

  MACKENZIE FELT A TEAR roll down her cheek as she and six hundred guests watched the absolutely breathtaking bride float effortlessly down the aisle on her proud father’s arm. As far as Mackenzie was concerned, there had never been a more beautiful bride. Nor had there ever been a more perfect wedding, Mackenzie decided at the same time some type of scuffle broke out in the back of the church.

  Mackenzie’s eyes darted from the panic-stricken look on Angie’s face to the poor bandaged soul who was being dragged out of the church by a uniformed police officer. But when a blood-curdling Mackenzie echoed through the church in the same tortured way Stanley called out for Stella in A Streetcar Named Desire, Mackenzie actually dropped her bridal bouquet.

  Alec! Mackenzie’s mind screamed as the doors banged loudly behind the man she loved and the officer who was dragging him away. I have to get to Alec, her brain kept insisting, but there was standing room only in the chamber of the church.

  Mackenzie ran forward, knowing her only option was to escape up the very aisle that the rattled bride was currently trying to walk down.

  “I’m so sorry, Angie,” Mackenzie mumbled as she brushed past her startled best friend, and she might have gotten away with a barely noticeable escape if the heel of Mackenzie’s pump hadn’t tangled in the sheer netting of the twelve-foot train that was attached to Angie’s tiny twenty-two-inch waist.

  It was Angie who screamed Mackenzie in agony this time, but Angie’s father thankfully reached out and caught his daughter before she fell backward in the floor. Mackenzie, on the other hand, never once slowed down. She simply kicked off the tangled shoe and bolted for the door in a hip-hop run that brought her outside the church in time to see a bruised and battered man who hardly resembled Alec at all being whisked away in a police cruiser that had been parked at the curb in front of the church.

  “Where are they taking him?” Mackenzie yelled to an officer who was standing below the church steps talking to a tall black man with a head full of braids and beads.

  “Downtown. To the police station,” the traffic officer called back.

  “You know dis mon called Alec?” the black man asked as he hurried up the steps in her direction.

  “Yes, I know him,” Mackenzie said, now completely confused. “Who are you?”

  A beautiful set of white teeth immediately flashed back at her. “It is I, Rafe, who brought Alec to here from Atlanta.”

  “Atlanta?” Mackenzie echoed. “What on earth was Alec doing in Atlanta? And exactly what’s happened
to Alec, anyway? He looked like he’d been run through a meat grinder.”

  Rafe shook his head sadly. “De injuries, ah, yes. Dose happen during Alec’s near-fatal plane crash,” Rafe said, mimicking Alec word for word.

  “Alec was in a plane crash?” Mackenzie gasped.

  “Oh, yes,” Rafe said, nodding his head up and down and setting his beads in motion.

  Suddenly suspicious, Mackenzie asked, “Okay, mister. How do you know so much about Alec?”

  Rafe grinned. “Riding five hours with a heartsick man gave Rafe plenty time to learn about Alec. Poor Alec, he survived de plane crash only to find dat de woman he loved was marrying dat no good snake, John Stanley. And since he could not stop de wedding, his poor heart will be broken. Right? Which is why his new best friend, Rafe, must find Alec very quick.”

  “Don’t let him fool you, lady,” the traffic officer who had obviously been listening to their conversation said when he walked up beside them. “This cabbie just finished telling me the guy you’re talking about owed him a thousand dollars. And that’s why he wants to find his new best friend very quick.”

  Mackenzie’s mind was reeling with so much information, she literally had to shake her head to clear it. “Okay,” she said looking directly at Rafe again, “let me get this straight. Alec was involved in a plane crash, and after the crash…”

  “Alec realized he could no longer live without de woman he loved,” Rafe chimed in with a sad look on his face. “But when my poor friend call to tell her, dey say she would not be back until after de wedding.”

  Mackenzie laughed, causing Rafe to point a stern finger in her direction. “Dis is not funny,” Rafe scolded. “In my country, to laugh at someone’s misfortune can bring you very bad karma.”