“And the bride is ordering you to get the groom down the aisle.”
I looked to Ivy.
She shrugged. “He’s so drunk I don’t think this wedding is even going to be legal.”
“Great, so it’s all just one big pageant.” I threw up my hands.
“Wheel me in like I’m the king of Rome!” Teddy slurred then started singing the national anthem loudly and off-key.
I dragged him and the groomsmen back onto the luggage cart, propping them upright.
“This isn’t how my wedding is supposed to go!” Imogen screeched.
I ignored her. “Camilla, are you coming?” I asked with a slight smirk. So sue me; I’m a sore winner.
“I hate you, Evan! You ruined my life!”
“You did that all by yourself,” I retorted.
“You can have your stupid wedding,” Camilla snarled to Imogen. “I quit!” She threw the flowers at Imogen. They missed, and Teddy caught them, holding them up like the winning touchdown pass. He and his friends on the cart cheered.
“They can’t go down the aisle like that,” Imogen hissed at Ivy. “We need to wait until they sober up.”
“We only have this space booked for an hour,” Ivy told her. “Then there’s a knitting convention that has it reserved.”
“Let’s get married at Chuck E. Cheese!” Teddy yelled.
“I have another wedding at four,” the officiant said, checking her watch. “This happening or not?”
Ivy spoke into her headset, and the string quartet began playing.
“This isn’t how I wanted my wedding to go!” Imogen complained.
“Evan,” Ivy told me, motioning with her hand, “wheel them down.”
Against the backdrop of the sweet strains of Pachelbel’s Canon, Teddy and his groomsmen sang filthy Scottish sea shanties as the luggage cart, me pushing, sailed down the aisle. People laughed and applauded, and Teddy waved, tossing flowers from Camilla’s discarded bouquet to the audience.
After us came Mika, who was carrying a drooly corgi puppy, and then Ivy. She was beautiful walking down the aisle alone in her blush-pink dress. I almost wished it were us getting married.
The string quartet segued into “Here Comes the Bride,” and Imogen marched down the aisle on my father’s arm. She couldn’t even muster up a smile through the sour look firmly affixed to her face. My stepmother kept miming for her to smile.
I hauled Teddy to his feet as Imogen approached the altar. The officiant launched into the wedding ceremony, but I only had eyes for Ivy. She was smiling broadly along as the officiant went through the words I was sure Ivy had heard a thousand times before but somehow still believed in—and she made me want to believe in them too.
“If anyone can show just cause why this couple cannot lawfully be joined together in matrimony, let them speak now or forever hold their peace,” the officiant announced.
“I object!”
54
Ivy
Istood there in shock as Mika handed me her flowers and snatched the microphone from the officiant.
“I’m not objecting to the union, because both Imogen and Teddy are awful, immature, spoiled people who deserve to make each other miserable for the rest of their lives. I object because they both, especially Imogen, don’t deserve this. They don’t deserve a nice wedding, they don't deserve to have everyone cater to them for a year, and they don’t deserve a happily ever after. That’s it.” Mika handed the microphone over, took her bouquet from me, and resumed her place in line.
“Uh—are there any other objections? If not, we can proceed,” the officiant said after a long pause.
“I object!” Imogen screeched, snatching the microphone.
