“Wait a sec,” Lala said. She ran out of the room, shoeless, in her bra and control-top stockings.
“Where are you going?” Geraldine demanded.
The three women heard Lala’s words coming from the direction of the kitchen.
“It’s going be a deliciously long day,” Lala yelled to them, “and so I got some of those energy boost pepper turboshot things you love at Whole Foods.”
“Oh, that’s a good idea,” Geraldine said. “Just make sure you don’t—”
“AAAAAAGGGH!”
Geraldine and Brenda and Helene bolted out of the bedroom into the kitchen. They saw Lala standing next to the open refrigerator, clutching at her throat.
“My GOD, that is hot!” she rasped.
Geraldine grabbed the small bottle Lala was clutching in her hand.
“That’s not a turboshot, that’s a tincture! It’s just cayenne pepper! The turboshot has lemon and maple syrup . . . You’re supposed to dilute this tincture stuff big time! Like one drop in a gallon of water! We need bread!”
Geraldine started digging through the full shelves of the refrigerator. “We need lots of bread and lots of milk... Lala, how do you not have any bread or milk in here? Brenda, go downstairs to my fridge and get all the bread and milk in there! STAT! NOW!”
Brenda threw the front door of the apartment open and scrambled down the stairs. As soon as the sound of the door opening and the footsteps pounding were heard, the guests and the groom and his best man turned toward the second-level apartment. Brenda saw them all rush to their chairs and she saw David and Monty rushing to join the judge.
“No!” she yelled. “No, don’t scramble to the pergola! Everything is fine! We’ve just got a teeny tiny delay, nothing to worry about! Everyone have another drink!”
By the time Brenda rushed back past everyone, clutching a bag of sourdough rolls and a half-gallon of Lactaid Fat-Free milk and completely ignoring their confused and concerned looks, she found the bride and her attendants back in the bedroom. Lala was drenched in more sweat than she had probably produced in any of her many workouts or hikes over the years, including the ones she used to do during the most humid summer months when she lived in New York City. Geraldine and Helene were desperately fanning her with magazines.
Brenda thrust a roll at Lala.
“Chew!” she ordered. Lala obeyed. When she was done with the roll, Brenda took the cap off the milk carton and handed that to Lala.
“Drink!” Brenda said. Lala did. She finished the carton and slammed it down on the bureau.
“I think I’m going to barf,” she managed to rasp. “Christ, that stuff is HOT.”
“Ohhh, Sweetie,” Geraldine cooed. She grabbed a tissue and mopped Lala’s drenched brow. “You are covered in schvitz. I think we’re going to have to redo your hair. And your makeup. I just don’t know why the Ides of March are always so cruel to you.”
“Are you kidding?” Lala giggled, just before she segued into a major coughing fit. “This is my favorite day of the year from now on and for the rest of my life! Tell you what, I’ll just jump in the shower and we’ll start all over again, yeah? It’s all good! We’ll be partying before I know it!”
The actual delay of the ceremony was just under an hour, which all the guests and her new husband assured Lala at the reception was really to be expected at just about any wedding, and it was in fact the rare and possibly bizarre marriage that actually took place precisely on time.
Lala didn’t believe a word any of them were saying, but she loved them all that much more for lying to her about it. Especially her new husband.
Just short of sixty minutes overdue, the door to Lala and David’s apartment opened. Helene exited first, carrying one sleeping Chihuahua under each arm. Brenda came next following her down the stairs, leading Eunice and Petunia and Chester on their leashes.
Geraldine held Lala’s arm as they walked through the door in tandem. Lala and Geraldine paused at the top of the stairs as they waited for the procession to reach the pergola.
Lala peeked over the railing of the balcony. She saw David look up and see her. She saw him look at her in a way that Terrence had once looked at her on an equally lovely day. When Brenda and Helene and the dogs were standing by David and Monty and the judge, Geraldine gave Lala’s hand a loving squeeze and kissed her forehead.
“Ready?” Geraldine asked her niece. Lala bobbed her head and smiled.
“Snap those fingers and clap those hands, people,” Lala whispered. “The Act Two curtain is coming down to thunderous applause. A wonderful Act Three will follow after a festive intermission.”
About the Author
Heidi Mastrogiovanni is a graduate of Wesleyan University and was chosen as one of ScreenwritingU’s 15 Most Recommended Screenwriters of 2013. The comedy web series she writes and produces, Verdene and Gleneda, was awarded the Hotspot on the Writers Guild of America’s Hotlist. Heidi is fluent in German and French, though she doesn’t understand why both these languages feel they need more than one definite article.
A dedicated animal welfare advocate, Heidi lives in Los Angeles with her musician husband and their rescued senior dogs. She loves to read, hike, travel, and do a classic spit-take whenever something is really funny.
Along with fellow Amberjack Publishing author Teri Emory (Second Acts), Heidi is delighted to be bringing their Writing While Female Tour to bookstores and libraries around the country. Lala Pettibone: Standing Room Only, the sequel to Lala Pettibone’s Act Two, continues to explore the themes present in all of Heidi’s work . . . It’s never too late to begin again, and it must be cocktail hour somewhere.
http://heidimastrogiovanni.com/
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