Kissing The Bride

by Tracey Alvarez

  “Now go and stop Mrs. T. from giving Kip a lap-dance,” Del said.

  Chapter 5

  The Big Day is here…

  T-Minus 2 hours…

  “Oh, shit,” said Del, standing alongside West and an apologetic Reverend Dave in Holy Trinity’s entrance.

  Water squelched up through the saturated carpet under their feet.

  West cuffed the back of Del’s head and gave him a googly-eyed Dude we’re in a church warning glance.

  “Sorry.” Del squeezed the bridge of his nose and sucked in a deep breath, once again scanning the church’s ruined carpeting, thanks to a water main’s blowout in the ancient plumbing sometime during the night. “But Jes—sorry!”

  “No worries,” said Reverend Dave with a sigh. “The plumber’s working on it, but…”

  The rock in the pit of Del’s stomach grew to the size of a football. “But no wedding is taking place here in two hours’ time.”

  Del, who’d spent the night in his brother’s spare room since Shaye was a stickler for tradition, had gotten the call from the reverend fifteen minutes ago. The reverend had been notified by two church ladies, who’d opened up the building ready to set up Shaye’s floral arrangements and ribbony-decoratory stuff for the ceremony—only to find a flood in progress.

  “Sorry, mate,” said the reverend. Again. “Catholic church?” Then he shook his head and answered his own question. “Nope, they’re getting ready for tomorrow’s Easter vigil and mass. Presbyterian? Damn, the Historical Society’s booked it out today.”

  “I’m so screwed.” Del shoved his fingers into his hair and yanked. The brief tug of pain didn’t help, didn’t pull out anything from his brain that would stop Shaye’s girlhood dream of being married in the same church as her parents, from being ruined.

  West spun abruptly and strode to the wide-open doors, poking his head around the corner. After a quick examination of the sky, he strode back to Del, his boots squelching on the wet carpet.

  “Weather’ll hold a bit longer. There’s a wedding canopy thing stored at the hotel that Mum bought online for her destination Stewart Island wedding idea.” West pulled a face and rolled his shoulders. “We could organize a volunteer work gang and have it set up on the beach within the hour. Whaddya reckon?”

  “I reckon we haven’t much choice.” Del shoved his hands into his jeans pockets.

  West clapped him on the shoulder. “Better give your blushing bride a call, mate. Rather you than me. That Harland temper and all.”

  Shaye wouldn’t be blushing with nervous, amorous excitement once he told her the news. She’d be ten kinds of pissed off, which was adorable in normal circumstances, but not right now.

  “Isn’t this the kind of thing I have a best man for?” Del asked.

  But West just laughed and sauntered out of the church, leaving Del alone with his mobile phone, and moments away from wrecking Shaye’s perfect wedding.

  ***

  T-Minus 25 minutes…

  West, who’d once taught Shaye basic Pranayama yoga breathing techniques, would’ve been proud at how well she was dealing with the colossal screw-up of a wrecked wedding venue. She was breathing like a goddamn champ.

  Shaye, Piper, Kezia, and Holly had been holed up at Shaye’s house since brunch that morning. Like a girls’ sleepover on steroids—with much laughter, teasing, weep-fests and wrangling with curling irons and mascara. Water-proof, of course. And she’d needed the water-proof variety when Del called just after midday with the bad news.

  Shaye inhaled, held, exhaled and stared at the woman in the beautiful white dress reflected back at her in the bedroom mirror. She smoothed the bodice, loving the feel of the silky fabric under her fingers.

  “You’re perfect, sis,” Piper said. She stood beside Shaye wearing a wine-colored satin dress.

  “Just stunning,” Holly said from Shaye’s other side, also wearing a matching bridesmaid’s dress.

  “Squisito,” was Kezia’s echoed compliment from the dressing table, where she continued to apply waterproof mascara.

  Before Shaye got all weepy—again—being around her big sister and besties, she tapped her wrist. “Time, Pipe?”

  Piper glanced down at her watch. “One forty-one. Rob should be here with the car any minute.”

  “Right.” Shaye collected up the skirts of her gown with one hand, grabbed her All Things Nuptial journal off the bed with the other. “I’ve got time to make a couple of last minute calls out on the deck while Holly fixes your hair again.”

  “What the hell’s wrong with my hair?” Piper grumbled as Shaye swept from the room and out onto the deck.

  A line of ominous-looking clouds were knitting together in the sky, but the sun still slanted brightly down onto the waves surging ashore on Shearwater Bay beach. Boris, thank God, was nowhere to be seen on the sand.

  Shaye kicked off her specially made heels, which, dammit, already pinched just the tiniest bit, and tapped her mother’s name on the phone. After a quick, high-volume of excited conversation about the bridal party’s flowers currently stored in one of Due South’s kitchen’s fridges, Shaye disconnected. She was hunting through her contacts to find their chef-on-loan Sebastian when a loud, sea-lion-ish roar echoed down the road. The same road Rob was due to drive down. Any, freaking, minute.

  Shaye hauled up her skirts and shoved her bare feet into a pair of flip-flops left beside the door. She rushed across the grass and—froze. There was a lumpish brown shape about two hundred meters farther along the road.

  Boris. Right in the middle of it.

  Heat mushroomed from the bottom of her soles to the roots of her hair. Oh. Hell. No.

  Breaking speed-walking records, Shaye marched up Shearwater Bay Road toward the creature. Like hell would that great, fish-scarfing lump stop her from getting to the church on time. Well, she conceded with gritted teeth as she approached the last thirty meters, not exactly a church anymore. Not a thought that helped lower her blood pressure, which now spiked dangerously high.

  Because, hello, she wasn’t a complete hot-headed idiot, Shaye stopped well before the recommended-as-safe, ten-meter distance away from Boris. The sea lion continued to stare at her boldly and if she wasn’t mistaken, with a bring it gleam in his beady little eyes. Yep, the massive animal completely blocked off the narrow gravel road. And with his known dislike of vehicles…

  “Move your bum, shoo!” Shaye waved her hand—then realized she still held her journal. The rumpled, stained pages caught in the breeze and made a satisfying flapping-hissy-rustle, so she shook the book again. Added a shouted, “Bugger off, you fat, smelly cretin.”

  Boris lurched forward on his flippers in a shuffling waddle, letting out an almighty screw-you-puny-human roar. Shaye shrieked, the All Things Nuptial journal whizzed through the air, Shaye whirled around in a flurry of white and ran. Risking a glance over her shoulder to gauge whether or not the sea lion was about to switch diets from seafood to sous chef, Shaye slowed her pace. Boris was still in the same position, dead center of the road. Only a little closer to Shaye’s house and, apparently, making a snack out of her journal.

  “Gah!” Flip-flops flip-flopping like mad, Shaye stalked the rest of the way home.

  Holly, Kezia, and Piper waited on the deck, their eyes huge.

  “Seriously?” Holly said. “You were seriously going to take on Boris armed with your journal?”

  “He’s just lucky he’s an endangered species, because the lard-ass ate my damn journal,” Shaye said. “I should make sushi out of him, endangered or not.”

  “And that’s why you never wanna piss off a Harland,” Piper said to Kezia.

  “Damn straight,” Shaye said. Then, with her heart beating in a crazed bongo solo, Shaye slumped onto the bench she and Del often sat on to enjoy the view of Shearwater Bay.

  Piper picked up Shaye’s phone and tapped the screen. “I’m calling Del,” she mouthed and handed over the phone.

  Ringing sounds as the call went th
rough, and then Del’s lovely, deep voice on the other end.

  “Shaye, what’s up?” he asked.

  “Boris ate my journal,” Shaye said, then with a choked hiccup, she burst into blubbery tears.

  “Shaye! Are you okay? What happened?”

  Piper snatched the phone back and gave Del a coherent explanation while Holly and Kezia dabbed tissues under Shaye’s eyes, Holly threatening bloody murder if Shaye ruined her makeup. Finally, Shaye waved the women away and gestured to Piper for the phone.

  “I’m fine now,” Shaye said. “Just please come get me.”

  Holly craned her neck to see along the road then turned back with a head shake. “He’s still just lying there. Del won’t get a car past.”

  Well, if a car couldn’t get past, they were screwed until Boris decided nap-time was over—unless…Shaye sat up straight. “Del—come get me on the moped. And get Ford, West, and Ben to bring the trail bikes to collect the girls. You can edge ‘round Boris on the outside of the road. He’s used to the scooter noise, and if the guys go along the beach, it’s only the scooter that has to sneak past.”

  “That should work.” There was a brief pause. “But you didn’t want me to see you before the ceremony. It’s bad luck. Maybe Ben should do two trips.”

  Ben would; Shaye didn’t doubt it for a moment. Her big, gruff and sometimes grouchy brother would probably give Boris a run for his money, too. But Ben was not who she wanted right now. To hell with bad luck. She’d never really given superstition much credence before, so why start now?

  “I don’t need my brother,” she said softly. “I need you.”

  “Then I’m there, cupcake. Give us ten minutes.”

  The phone went dead, and Shaye picked up her pretty white heels. “Well, girls. Looks like we’re arriving to my wedding in style.”

  ***

  T-Minus 5 minutes…

  As bad-tempered as Boris was, the sea lion couldn’t resist the urge of an afternoon siesta. He’d snoozed peacefully the whole time Del and the guys put Operation Save the Bride’s Butt into effect.

  The women helped Shaye onto the back of Del’s scooter, hoisting her dress up in white billows around her and wrapping her train safely out of the way of the wheels. Then they’d each climbed pillion onto their guy’s bikes and gone the longer way around the sea lion via the beach, while Del and Shaye slowly puttered past the sleeping Boris. Rob and the car were parked a short distance farther along Shearwater Bay Road, and the four women kissed their men goodbye and climbed gratefully inside.

  “You all right then?” Rob’s dark-brown eyes met Shaye’s in the rear-view mirror as they drove slowly toward town.

  “I’m fine,” she said, sandwiched between Piper and Kezia. “Just wanting to get this show on the road before the rain hits.”

  Outside, tiny spits of moisture splattered on the windshield, but there was enough weak sunlight still arrowing through the clouds that Shaye could pretend she wouldn’t have a downpour to contend with in the next thirty minutes.

  “We need to make a quick stop at the hotel for me to fix Shaye’s hair,” Holly said from beside Rob in the passenger seat. “And pick up the bouquets.”

  “Righty-O,” Rob said. “You’ll still be in the fashionably late zone, and you don’t need to worry about a thing. The boys and I got everything set on the beach as you wanted, love. Denise tells me it looks lovely—very romantic, she says.”

  Before they reached the rise where they could see Due South positioned majestically in front of Halfmoon Bay beach, Piper ordered Shaye to shut her eyes. “It should be a surprise,” she said.

  Shaye dutifully covered her eyes, swaying slightly into her sister when Rob turned the car into Due South’s parking lot.

  “Open them. Let’s go,” Piper said. “Everyone’s out on the beach waiting, including your groom.”

  The four women climbed from the car and entered Due South through the staff entrance, met at the door by a fluttery-handed Glenna.

  “Darlings.” She air-kissed Shaye’s cheek. “I was so worried, but oh my goodness”—the fluttery-hands fanned her face—“you look so beautiful.”

  “Thank you, Mum.” Shaye smiled and followed her mother along the hallway to West’s office.

  After Holly was satisfied with touching up Shaye’s slightly windblown hair and spraying what felt like half a can of hairspray onto the neat chignon, the women exchanged glances.

  “What?” Shaye said.

  “We almost forgot.” Her mum opened the top drawer of West’s desk. “Here.” She handed Shaye a small, tissue-paper-wrapped object. “Your something old.”

  Shaye laughed. “In all the excitement, I’d forgotten, too.” She peeled back the layers of tissue paper to reveal a small silver locket threaded on a narrow ribbon.

  “Open it, darling.”

  Her mother’s voice trembled, and Shaye knew, before she even flicked open the locket, whose picture she’d find inside. “Daddy.”

  Michael Harland’s face smiled at her through the tiny photograph enclosed in the locket.

  “He can walk me down the aisle after all.” She traced the shape of her father’s face with a fingernail, a bittersweet ache squeezing her ribs against her madly beating heart.

  “There’s nothing he wanted more than to see you and Piper happy,” her mum said. “And I know you and Del will be crazily happy for the rest of your lives.” Then she turned to Holly. “Your turn, dear.”

  Holly grinned. “Lucky we chose that double-strength waterproof mascara, eh?” She went around the other side of West’s desk and fished into the same drawer Glenna had. Holly pulled out a lacy white garter and whirled it around her fingers a few times with a wiggle of her eyebrows. “Your something new from Kezia and me.”

  Kezia helped Shaye slide on the garter, and Piper dipped into the same desk drawer.

  “Something borrowed,” Piper said, and removed a thin silver clip. “One of Dad’s tie clips,” she said by way of explanation. “I wore it on my wedding day; now it’s your turn.” She slid it into Shaye’s hair and then wrapped Shaye up in a bear hug. “Love you, little sis. Do I tell you that enough?”

  Shaye rested her chin on Piper’s shoulder. “You show me enough and that’s way more important.”

  “You lot ready?” Bill Westlake stood in the office doorway with Shaye’s bouquet, looking as uncomfortable as a man holding a live grenade. “Clock’s ticking, ladies.”

  Shaye’s brow crinkled. “We are—but what about something blue?”

  Her gaze skipped over her mother, Piper, Kezia, and Holly—all swapping glances of Oops, weren’t you in charge of that?

  Shaye shrugged, and chuckled. “It doesn’t matter. We’ve kind of broken a few traditions with this wedding so far.”

  “Doesn’t matter?” said Bill. He stepped into the office and handed Shaye’s flowers to Holly. “Who are you, and what have you done with my new daughter-in-law?”

  Before Shaye could answer, he brought forward the hand he held behind his back—revealing a bright-blue umbrella.

  Shaye’s chuckle turned into a belly laugh. “Perfect!” she said. “Bill saves the day.”

  Bill grinned. “Well, if you get a move on, we might not need it.” Then he held up an index finger, as if he’d just remembered something. “Ah. But how are you going to carry it down the aisle?” A smile that was all charming Westlake male spread onto Bill’s mouth. “Might have to swap it for this.” He dug into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a small silver box trimmed with a blue ribbon. “Here you go, girlie. Hope you like ‘em.”

  Shaye took the box from his hand and kissed the dear, familiar face of the man who’d been her mentor, friend, and substitute father. She made sure his faded blue gaze was locked on hers before she spoke.

  “Thank you, Dad,” she said.

  His smile was bright enough to blast the rainclouds back across the Foveaux Strait to the mainland.

  “Open it then. Del’ll be gett
ing antsy out there.”

  Shaye opened the box, pulling off the lid to reveal a simple but elegant pair of earrings—blue sapphires set amongst sparkly diamonds.

  “They’re beautiful. I love them.” She pulled the earrings from the box and slid them through her lobes.

  “Claire picked them,” Bill said gruffly, a ruddy flush on his cheeks. “You know I don’t have a clue what women want.”

  “I wouldn’t say that, Bill.” Glenna, who’d slipped out into the hallway to collect the bridesmaids’ flowers, returned to the office. She distributed the bouquets among the women then tied the silver locket around Shaye’s flowers.

  “I just got a wave from Harley. Everything’s ready out front.” Her mother handed Shaye her bouquet then stroked a hand down her arm. “Are you ready, darling?”

  To marry the man of her dreams? Her Mr. Perfect-for-her who made her heart gallop and her soul sing? The man who, even if she didn’t entirely believe in that sort of thing, was still her destiny.

  “Born ready,” Shaye said.

  Chapter 6

  “Del, stop fidgeting.” Carly leaned behind West and flicked Del’s elbow. “You’re making me nervous.”

  His step-sister kept her voice pitched low beneath the hiss of waves tumbling across the sand and the classical music Shaye had picked for her pre-wedding entrance, which now played out of the makeshift sound system Ford and Harley had set up. The rest of Del’s mates had hauled chairs from the community hall and assembled the wedding pergola thingy on Halfmoon Bay beach. Luckily for them, they’d timed it right at low tide, and there was plenty of empty beach space for every bought and borrowed preserving jar they’d acquired—mainly from Mrs. Taylor and her cohorts.

  A few minutes ago, Harley had given the signal, and volunteers had lit the tea-light candles inside the glass jars, which were randomly placed around the seating area and the makeshift altar. With the sky above them darkening by the minute thanks to the encroaching rainclouds, the flickers of light cast tiny shadows on the sand and gave an air of a magical fairyland—though, at any other time, Del would’ve kicked his own ass for even thinking such a thing.