Daisi had pulled out all the stops when designing her fake wedding cake. In fact, the design and execution, size, layout, and decorating were even beyond her own expectations. With its four layers, ombre coloring from the top layer (very pale lavender), to its bottom layer (deep purple), it was beyond magnificent! Decorated in Daisi's favorite color... purple! Oh, how she loved purple! But just in case a one-color cake might be rather boring to the eye, Daisi went a little nuts. She poked pointed colorful plastic icicles into random locations on every layer, some pointing upward, others on the sides pointing horizontal. Love it or hate it, it was a spectacle! What the guests didn't know yet was that the numbered plastic card they were handed when they entered, had a purpose. After the reception got started, Drake was going to roll in a large wheeled two-compartment cart that was literally filled on both sides to capacity with bright and colorful gifts of different sizes. The left compartment held the smaller gifts, the right held the larger ones. He would park it somewhere near the cake, while Daisi explained that during the evening festivities she or Drake would randomly be calling numbers. If a guest's number was called and he or she could throw a proffered large plastic ring onto the spike of their own choosing, from a pre-labeled line on the floor that was about ten feet away, and it stayed on for the count of five, they could claim a gift of their choice.
Naturally, a ten-year old boy (the youngest guest in attendance) had to ask why there were small gifts in one compartment and large ones in the other. And more importantly, how'd you earn the large ones. Daisi smiled at Drake at this point. The question couldn't have been any more timely than if it had been scheduled with the youngster beforehand.
Daisi pointed all guests' attention to the cake. She asked them if they noticed that while the upward pointing icicles did just that... point straight up, the icicles horizontally positioned on the sides of the cake were just slightly, slightly tipped downward. "Oh, yeah... I see that now," was the quiet comment from almost every mouth. She went on to explain that having the ring stay on the upward icicles wasn't as great a challenge, whereas if the ring thrown could avoid slipping off a downward-sloped horizontal one for at least a five-count, that was quite an achievement.
"Bottom line... throw it on the upward pointed icicles, you get your choice of a small gift. Throw it on a downward-tipped horizontal icicle and wait for the all reception party attendees to count to five. If it holds its position that long, you have your choice of a small or a large gift."
The rules were barely out of Daisi's mouth, when a college student in the group yelled out, "When does this game start?"
"At unexpected moments during the evening." responded Drake.
"Boo," hissed a number of teenagers. Everyone laughed.
The fun that was already in progress was more than ever could have been anticipated. Parents didn't have to entertain or discipline their kids. Food abounded, sparkling drinks were unending, dancing took all forms, and the two-person game tables lining one inside wall were popping with excitement as ages ten to eighty-six competed with someone of their choice for "the win" to whatever competitive board game they selected. There were grab-bags of small games that Drake and Daisi had designed over this last month. Challenge someone to play, with eyes closed, pull a game from the grab-bag, win the game, win a chip. (Later in the evening the leftover big, big gifts would be auctioned off to the Win Chip holders who bid the greatest number of unredeemed chips from their overall earnings during the evening.)
The occasional number was called, the ring tossed, and gifts of all sizes were being grabbed from the cart. Laughter rocked the rafters!
Perhaps one hour into the celebration fun, Drake stood from his seat where he and Daisi whispered sweet nothings in each other’s ears and watched the festivities. He used a butter knife to clink his crystal fluted glass. The congregation came to silence, some choosing to echo the tinkling sound on their own glass (if, of course, they were seated at the tables and not dancing or playing games).
"My heart is so full this evening. Jesus has saved me, I am surrounded by all the people in my life that I love and love me, and I have been given as a lifetime gift the most amazing woman the Lord ever created. I am blessed." He then turned to Daisi and spoke directly to her.
"My precious Daisi... my heart is so full tonight that it feels like it might burst right out of my chest. In my exacting accountant's world of numbers, there is a one in seven billion chance that someone like you would ever fall in love with someone like me. How it happened, I still don't understand. But, here you are, and my life is joyously beyond what I ever thought it would be."
The speech at this time drew a tear from Drake's eye. Daisi stood, leaned toward him, put her hand on his cheek, then wiped away the tear with her thumb. He resumed his thoughts.
"The greatest gift I can ever give you is to be the New Testament husband you deserve. And, I promise you that I will obediently follow God's instructions to husbands to make sure you have the life mate you deserve. This gift will require my lifetime to fulfill.
"I wanted a gift that I could give you today, though. One that would show you that I listen carefully when you speak, one that would show that I intend to do what the Bible says when it instructs me to find out what gives you joy and execute a plan to fulfill that, and one that would make you do that squeal of joy that I so love..."
Everyone in the room that had known Daisi for any time at all recognized exactly what squeal he was talking about. She would throw her hands up to her face, steepled across her mouth, and let loose with a sound of excitement that was so high pitched that it summoned all dogs within a tri-county area. Because of this, the comment brought a huge round of laughter from almost everyone present.
When the laughter died down, he continued.
"So, I only have five questions I want to ask you, Daisi. Number one... Judging from the color of the wedding cake, the flowers on all the tables, the linen napkins throughout this room, the shoes you are wearing with your gown, all boutonnieres worn by my groomsmen, the bouquets of all your bridesmaids, and on-and-on ad nauseum, I'm guessing your very favorite color is what?... Purp...???"
At this very second, Daisi displayed her prowess at this exact shriek, and was joined by everyone, including all staff and formally-clad servers, as they heard the sound of clanking metal, splintering wood, and breaking glass. Jumping from their present locations, running in a direction that took them away from the point of impact to the far opposite wall, they now stood in complete silence in semi-darkness. There were no lights in the room. At all! The only illumination came from the lights that shown in windows and doors adjacent to the lavish patio deck. Just enough to see the most horrifying sight.
The wedding cake that had been such fun to throw rings at was now smashed and thrown on the floor, in a splat that sprawled to almost halfway across the room onto the dance floor. One large table, that along with two others which in total made the beautiful long head table where the bridal party sat, was thrown onto its side and further into the dancing realm, two of its legs busted clean off. All its contents, which included the tablecloth, flower arrangement, linen napkins, silverware, fine china plates, two bowls of colorful mints, had been thrown into the air, separated from their last occupancy and now rested with the cake. The full crystal pitcher that had been placed directly in the center of that table was now empty, the shattered shards of glass floating on a layer of iced water in the exact middle of the dance floor.
As the guests glanced into the direction of what previously had been a six-table long fully stocked buffet, filled with a luscious assortment of wondrous culinary delights, they now in horror glimpsed a four-table long buffet. The two tables that were closest to the point of impact were trashed and fallen warriors who had until now been joined with their four comrades against the war on wedding-reception hunger. Hot-, cold-, sweet-, and salty main dishes, salads, and side dishes had joined in a final battle cry as they flew through the air, but now laid dead or dying along wi
th their friend the spikey purple wedding cake, all marinating in a fruity red wedding punch puddle, creating one very, very large "wedding reception goulash."
While standing immobile, transfixed by the wedding reception food carnage before them, the guests were assaulted with yet another frightening sound. It came from a different direction, to their left side along the same wall against which they took any refuge. Any music that had brought familiarity and fun to them immediately stopped, following a tumbler of multiple sounds. In unison the multitude jerked their heads to the left, just in time to see the cause. In a mad rush to escape what was happening, the dj bumped one of his assortment of mechanical equipment while trying to disembroil himself from the fray and run for safety. In the next three point seven-tenths seconds, he stumbled over and felled every piece of equipment he'd brought, as though he were chopping down trees in a forest. Once free from his station, he began running, only to land in the "goulash," sliding an easy twelve feet before coming to a stop.
In the approximately one minute before the dj jumped up from the floor and ran post haste out one of the sets of French doors leading to the elegantly decorated patio and decks, the gazes of all friends and family of the newly married couple returned to the origin of all this mayhem.
Instantaneously, every attendee realized what had caused this horrid catastrophe.
There wedged in both wall and broken French door remnants was what used to be the most beautiful restored 1957 Chevy Bel Air. Now, however, it looked like it had been a casualty of the last world war. Scratches and dents covered most of its once stunning body. The two front headlights were crushed, with their frames in two curled piles in the "food goulash." The left driver's front wheel was perched at a forty-five degree angle to the floor. And, nesting on its roof and hood were respectively a gnarled white wrought iron patio chair and a bunch of twisted exterior tarp and metal that used to be identifiable as a table umbrella.
This gorgeous vintage purple piece of art had been in mint condition. Well... actually, it still was. When the chocolate mint fountain had been catapulted off one of the two now fallen buffet tables, it had suffered extreme "motion sickness" and "threw up" its entire contents on both the car exterior and to its interior through the broken front passenger side window.
When the driver car door opened, out stumbled a tuxedo-clad young man, bleeding from a gash just below one eye, who had a ridiculous smile on his face. He seemed somewhat disoriented, but was able to speak one word that said it all, "Oops!" After this declaration, he turned and walked back out through the same path of his entry, and walked in a drunken fashion down the driveway and into the side kitchen door.
Almost as one large choir would raise its voice in unison to sing, every person in the banquet room, from young to old, purposefully and in unison turned their stunned gaze to Drake and Daisi, who were both transfixed by the sight of what the groom already knew- and the bride just realized. They were staring directly at Drake's magnificent wedding gift to his beloved. He had paid very close attention when she told him that of all cars ever designed, she thought the 1957 Bel Air was most visually stunning. Especially if it were, of course, purple. Of course he heard her. How many times had they talked about that very thing? Probably every single time they passed the one on the showcase floor of the Chevrolet dealer in town that now reclined in a disastrous mess in this very room.
What had once been a beautiful and sacrificial offering from Drake, was now wretched and deformed. Interestingly enough, the only part of the car left untouched through the debacle were its two white side fins. Starchy and pristine, they were the mocking reminders of how perfect the vintage vehicle looked before being so brutally assaulted.
Drake and Daisi turned to look into each other’s faces. Both simultaneously closed their dropped-open mouths, blinked once, then returned their stares to the damage, in abundant proportion, that was directly before them.
This was horrible... beyond horrible! They had just been witness to the most catastrophic wedding reception mishap ever... ever! Or maybe not?
*****
About the Author
Sheila and her husband Daniel are empty-nesters living in a couple of the most beautiful acres of forest in all of North Carolina. With no jobs and no prospects, they moved cross country and built their home thirty years ago, and can honestly say they never have longed for a newer one. Because, however, they've lived in this home for three decades, they occasionally would admit to each other that things were looking a little "tired," which prompted updates and re-dos. Their home has had additions, upgrades, color pallet changes, and changed out furnishings until they can't even remember what the original home looked like.
Each of them having hoped originally for a larger family, it was quite a shock when they finally realized they would only be having one child, a daughter, DanniLaii. It has now become a joke that, of course, she's an only child. When you do it right the first time, you don't need to try over and over for new ones. DanniLaii and Carl are the delights of Sheila's and Daniel's hearts. Living only five miles across town, the four of them spend huge amounts of time together, talk on the phone multiple times daily, and take every summer's vacation together.
After a number of years of teaching public high school, Sheila gave herself an "early retirement" and now is engaged in writing contemporary Christian fiction and creating Christmas romance plans for husbands and wives, in addition to designing marriage certificates and marriage vow renewal certificates.
Almost a decade and a half ago, Sheila was given the gift of multiple web sites by her daughter, which she's been running from then until now. Her heart is primarily for married couples and her commerce sites reflect her desire to minister to marriages.
Sheila's two greatest endeavors these days are writing and expanding her culinary pursuits. She weekly pulls one or two recipes from online and is surprising herself, her husband, and her family with countless new and exciting dishes. (We won't talk about the ones that don't make the grade, because they are gross and disgusting.)
Members of an extraordinary church, Westover Church of Greensboro, North Carolina, Sheila and Daniel sit under-, absorb-, and apply the Biblical truths that come their way weekly. They are forever amazed that the Lord has put them in such an extraordinary spiritually uplifting environment.
Sheila always has two or three books in progress at any given time, so her hope is that her readers will enjoy her "long, tall tales" so much that they'll return over and over to keep grabbing another one.
To read more about this author and her works, visit her at www.sheilaholmes.com.
A Wedding Disaster... Or Was It? Page 18