by Tara Sivec
“It’s so sweet you’re getting emotional over their vows,” I whisper out of the corner of my mouth, as we stand a few feet away from the happy couple. I shoot Noel a smile when she gives my hand another death-grip squeeze.
“I’m not emotional,” she says in a low voice through clenched teeth. “How could anyone possibly be emotional with what they’re saying?”
“I promise to never tell you I have a headache when you want sex, and I vow to always love you, even when you suggest we need to spice things up with a threesome.”
Alex wipes a tear from his eye when Scheva finishes her vows. They quickly exchange rings, and the minister declares them husband and wife. Everyone seated stands up and starts to clap as Alex and Scheva lean in for a kiss, and I silently thank God they made it through their own wedding ceremony without any mishaps.
As soon as their lips touch, a shrill scream pierces the air and all eyes under the tent turn to see Aunt Bobbie racing up the center aisle. She’s wearing a white, floor-length sparkly dress covered with red, yellow, green, and blue felt circles. The dress is skintight, making her run look more like a waddle. A short, curly, bright-red wig is askew on top of her head, and her normally pristine makeup is horrifying. Her red lipstick is way outside the lines and looks like she just drew a giant red circle around her mouth, and she covered every inch of her face with cakey white makeup that is half sweated off, half smeared, leaving some of her natural skin tone peeking through the white mess.
“What in the actual fork?” Noel mutters.
“Is she dressed like a drag clown? She was supposed to be Barbra Streisand!” Scheva complains.
“Oh my God. There are people chasing her,” I mutter with a shake of my head when a large mob of angry people comes bursting into the tent, shouting and racing after Aunt Bobbie.
The assembled guests start tipping over chairs as they make a hasty exit out of the tent and away from whatever the hell is happening right now.
Aunt Bobbie flies the rest of the way down the aisle and takes cover behind us, ducking down and clinging to the back of my shirt.
The angry group of people comes to a stop right in front of Alex, Scheva, Noel, and I. Putting my hands up in the air in a sign of peace, I take a step forward to talk to them, with Aunt Bobbie still holding tight to me.
“This is private property, and we’re in the middle of a wedding ceremony. I’m going to have to ask you people to kindly leave,” I inform them.
“Um, Sam?” Noel whispers.
I start to look over at my wife when one of the men in front of the pack points behind me.
“We caught her red handed! She was doing it in broad daylight!” he shouts angrily.
“My daughter has been crying for three solid nights because of her!” someone else yells.
“Sam . . .” Noel says my name again, but I’m too busy trying to figure out what these people are doing here and how to stop any other disaster from ruining Alex and Scheva’s wedding.
“What the hell are they talking about?” I ask Aunt Bobbie, turning my head to look back at her.
“So, it turns out, I’m the clown from the news. I wondered why I kept waking up every morning with white, cakey makeup all over my face and pillows. I should probably stop doing drugs,” she whispers.
“See?! I told you clowns weren’t bad! It’s just Bobbie with a couple of screws loose,” Reggie pipes up as he walks away from his chair in the front row to join us.
Noel’s hand latches on to my arm and squeezes hard.
“Sam.”
I figure she’s probably just upset about the fact that her Aunt Bobbie has caused a riot with her stupidity, so I take another step forward to try and defuse the situation and get everyone to calm down.
“Will you guys go home and forget this ever happened if Bobbie apologizes and promises to never do anything like this again?” I ask the crowd.
There are a bunch of murmurs from the people as they talk amongst themselves. After a few minutes, one of the women speaks up.
“We will, but only if she apologizes and you take down that hideous display in the front yard. It’s scaring small children, and we’ve had to start taking detours so we don’t drive by the house. It’s very inconvenient.”
“HORSESHIT!” Reggie shouts. “That display is not coming down until the votes are tallied tomorrow night after trick-or-treat. I’ve got a title to defend!”
The group chuckles softly, and the woman with the demands speaks again.
“Reggie, have you even looked at the display across the street? It’s the best one we’ve ever seen!”
Oh, no. Please, God, no.
“Such attention to detail. Did you see the jack-o’-lanterns? Those must have taken hours to carve.”
“And the giant Jack Skellington? That was hand-painted. Best one I’ve ever seen.”
“And the little dog, Zero! Did you guys see that his tail wags? I don’t know how they did it, but it’s adorable.”
“Have you seen the projector in the front windows? It plays the movie against the glass. That’s high-tech and awesome.”
I watch silently as Reggie’s face turns the color of a tomato, and I hope to God someone here has a nitroglycerin pill, because he’s about two seconds away from having a full-blown heart attack.
Right when Reggie opens his mouth to let hellfire and brimstone rain down on everyone, Noel lets out her own bloodcurdling scream.
“SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAM!”
Everyone turns in her direction, and my heart starts beating out of my chest when I see how flushed her face is.
“Honey? What’s wrong?”
She mumbles something under her breath as she squeezes her eyes closed, and I notice beads of sweat popping out on her forehead.
“You’re going to have to speak up. And just so you know, I can’t take anything you say seriously right now when you’re dressed like a kitchen appliance,” Alex laughs.
“I’M IN MOTHER FORKING LABOR AND MY GOSH DINGED WATER JUST BROKE!” Noel screams at the top of her lungs.
“See? It sounds dumb when you’re not using real swear words. I told you this was a stupid idea,” Alex mutters. My eyes widen in shock and my jaw drops when I look down at Noel’s feet to see a small puddle of water.
In all the baby books I’ve read, they tell you not to panic. You should remain calm, have a plan, and follow it. But our plan wasn’t supposed to go into effect for another week and OH MY FUCKING GOD MY WIFE IS IN LABOR!
“What do you need me to do?” I ask her when she bends at the waist and smacks her hand against the oven door of her costume, where a happy baby is lying on its back, looking out at everyone with a gummy smile.
“GET THIS STUPID SPORKING COSTUME OFF ME! I’M NOT GIVING BIRTH DRESSED LIKE AN OVEN WITH A BABY COOKING AT 450 DEGREES!” she screams through clenched teeth as she winces in pain with another contraction.
Everyone moves at once, helping me rip the cardboard box around Noel into a hundred pieces until she’s standing next to me in a tank top and yoga pants, both of her hands flying to her stomach as she yells out in pain.
“I NEED A DOCTOR! SOMEONE GET ME A DOCTOR!” I scream at the top of my lungs.
No less than fifteen men and women in scrubs come running up to us, pushing people out of the way as they go. I roll my eyes as they hover around us.
“I meant real doctors,” I complain, wondering why in the hell so many people decided to dress up as medical personnel for this wedding.
“We are real doctors!” they shout in unison.
I point at the guy standing closest to me.
“No, you aren’t. Especially you, Greg. Alex and I work with you.”
Greg from work moves closer to me and lowers his voice, looking back over his shoulder at Scheva.
“Scheva told us we had to stay in character today or she’d chop off our balls. But I saw a cow birth on TV once. I can totally do this. Have your wife take off her pants and get on all fours.”
; Before I can punch Greg in the face, Scheva comes rushing over to us and wraps her arms around Noel.
“I just called nine-one-one. Ambulance should be here any second now. Oh my God. You’re going to have a baby today!” she tells Noel.
“Why in the hell would you call nine-one-one? My car is right out front,” I remind Scheva.
“Um, because I don’t have anyone wearing an EMS worker costume at my wedding, Sam. How will the pictures look if I don’t have an EMS worker in the mix? Jesus, get your shit together, Sam,” Scheva mutters with a roll of her eyes.
“I ruined your wedding,” Noel sobs to her best friend.
Moving to stand in front of Noel, I take her face in my hands and wipe the tears from her cheeks as Scheva gives her a gentle squeeze.
“You didn’t ruin anything. Your bun is coming out of the oven. It’s perfect!” Scheva reassures her as we hear the wail of the ambulance siren out front.
Bending down, I scoop Noel up into my arms, and Alex and Scheva move in front of us, clearing a path and telling people to get out of the way. The paramedics meet us on the side of the house with a gurney, and they help me get Noel situated and buckled in. I grab her hand and give it a kiss as I run beside her, then help them load her into the back of the ambulance.
“Honey, we’ll be right behind you! Make sure they save me a pair of scrubs for the delivery room!” Bev shouts to Noel with a wave as we both stare out at them through the ambulance doors.
“Make sure they save me the afterbirth! I hear it’s high in protein!” Alex adds with a thumbs up.
The doors close with a slam and I sit down on the bench next to the gurney, one hand still holding tightly to Noel’s as I use to other one to smooth sweaty strands of hair off her forehead and cheeks.
“We’re going to have a baby,” I whisper to her with a smile, my eyes filling with tears.
“We’re going to have a baby,” she whispers back as the paramedic starts an IV line in her other arm. “Please don’t let any of those crazy people in the delivery room to stare at my vagina.”
I chuckle softly before leaning down and kissing the top of her head. Noel squeezes my hand harder and starts taking chanting breaths through a contraction.
“I will guard the delivery room and your vagina with my life,” I reassure her as the ambulance sails through intersections and stop signs and gets us to the hospital in record time.
Chapter 10: Stupid Man
Noel
“Honey, wake up. We’re here.”
The sound of Sam’s voice stirs me awake, and I rub my eyes and sit up higher in the front seat of the car.
“Sorry I fell asleep,” I tell him with a yawn as he unbuckles his seat belt.
“Noel, you just gave birth last night. You’re allowed to sleep whenever you want,” he tells me with a smile.
We both turn around and stare at the car seat in the back, our baby nestled in it, fast asleep.
“I can’t even stand how beautiful she is,” I whisper.
“Of course she’s beautiful, have you seen her mother?”
Looking away from our daughter, I smile at my husband and lean over the center console to kiss him. Sam brings both of his hands up to cup my cheeks as I pull back, and stares into my eyes.
“Thank you for making me a father,” he tells me softly, emotion filling his voice.
“Thank you for not wanting to divorce me when I saw her face and knew immediately what her name should be.” I laugh softly.
Christmas Holiday Stocking, Christy for short, was born at exactly 12:01 a.m., making her the first official Halloween baby in our small town.
I know, I know. I refused to ever saddle my child with an insane name and carry on the tradition my family started, but I couldn’t help it. I took one look at her perfect, tiny pink lips, perfect pink cheeks, perfect pudgy little fingers, looked over at my family—who Sam was unable to keep out of the delivery room, all with tears falling down their cheeks, including my father—and knew I had no other choice.
As insane as my family is, they’re still my family. I love them unconditionally, and I’m proud to be a part of them. I never want Christy to feel like she should be ashamed or embarrassed about being in this family, even though I’m sure everyone will give her plenty of reasons to feel that way. And on top of that, her father and I met at Christmas. Bringing him home from the airport bar was the best decision I ever made. I wouldn’t have her if I never took that leap. And even though she’s only been mine for sixteen hours, I can’t imagine my life without her in it.
Tilting my head to the side and out of Sam’s hands, I look over his shoulder and out the driver’s side window in confusion.
“Wait, why are we parked across the street from my parents’ house? I thought we were going home and everyone was coming over for an early dinner before trick-or-treating?” I ask.
Even though Halloween is my favorite night of the year, I couldn’t possibly be sad about missing it this year, when I’d be spending the evening staring at my daughter.
Sam doesn’t say a word as he gets out of the car. I watch as he walks around the front of the vehicle, opening the backseat door behind me and carefully unbuckling Christy from her car seat. He gently lifts her out and tucks her against his chest before opening my door and holding out his hand for me.
He pulls me out of the front seat and closes the door behind me, wrapping his arm around my waist and turning the three of us away from the car, which is parked along the curb across from my parents’ house.
“We are home,” Sam tells me with a nervous smile.
He nods at the house we’re standing in front of, the one across the street from my parents’ house, and I stare up at him, my heart beating faster.
“What are you talking about?” I whisper.
Leaning down, he kisses the top of my head.
“Welcome home, baby.”
My mouth opens and closes wordlessly as I look back and forth between my husband and the house of my dreams.
“No, you didn’t . . . ” I mutter, wondering if I’m still back at the hospital. Maybe I haven’t really been discharged yet, and I’m still asleep in my hospital bed, having the best dream ever.
“I did. And, full disclosure, I haven’t been working any overtime the last month. I’ve been busy getting these decorations built and set up.”
I think someone needs to pinch me. Or throw a bucket of cold water on my face. My eyes quickly fill with tears, and the Nightmare Before Christmas yard decorations become one big blur.
“I can’t believe you did this. You really bought me my dream house? You really spent all this time decorating the front yard with things from my favorite movie?” I ask, the tears falling fast and hard down my face.
“Of course I did. As soon as the house went on the market, your mom called me and told me about it and how you’d always loved this house. I know you’ve been worried about being so far away from your family once Christy arrived, and I didn’t want you to worry about anything. I want to make all your dreams come true, Noel, just like you’ve done for me.”
Turning to face him, I wrap my arms around his waist, careful not to squish our sleeping daughter between us.
“But Alex is the only one who knew I actually bought the house and have been decorating it. I wanted to wait to tell everyone else until after I told you,” he says with a smile, reaching up with his free hand to wipe the tears off my cheeks.
“How in the hell did you even manage to do all this without anyone seeing you?”
Sam gives me another heart-stopping smile.
“Are you forgetting I’m a Marine? I’ve trained for years for shit like this. I spent months canvassing the neighborhood at different times of the day throughout the week, so I knew when the neighbors wouldn’t be home and I could unload all of my decorations and supplies into the garage. Then I’d get up in the middle of the night, while everyone was sleeping, don my camo gear, and creep around the yard in the dark, setting ever
ything up.”
The smile on my face immediately falls, and my happiness suddenly turns to worry.
“You bought me my dream house and spent all this time decorating the front yard,” I say again, in a soft, nervous voice.
Sam laughs, looking down at me quizzically.
“Pretty sure we already established that.”
I shake my head at him, trying to make him understand without screaming.
“You. Decorated. It.”
Sam still isn’t getting what I’m trying to say, and right when I open my mouth to spell it out, there’s a loud commotion from across the street.
“SORRY, GUYS! I HAD TO SPILL THE BEANS!” Alex shouts from my parents’ front porch as my dad shoves him out of the way and comes racing down the steps in our direction.
“Oh, shit. I decorated it,” Sam mutters, finally understanding the gravity of the situation.
“I’LL KILL YOU, YOU LITTLE SHIT!” Dad screams as he trips over one of his clowns, quickly righting himself to continue charging across the yard toward us.
Sam hastily passes Christy over to me and gives me a kiss on the cheek. With one last look at the two of us, he glances over at my dad running full speed across the street and takes off running down the sidewalk.
“IF I DON’T SURVIVE THIS, TELL OUR DAUGHTER I LOVE HER AND I WAS ONCE A BRAVE MAN!” Sam shouts over his shoulder to me.
“DON’T YOU MEAN A STUPID MAN?” I yell back.
“THAT TOO!” Sam replies before he disappears around the corner of the block.
My dad makes it over to me and runs right by without a word, his sights set on my husband and how much bodily harm he can do if he manages to catch him.
“DAD! DON’T YOU DARE KILL MY HUSBAND!” I shout.