Fed Up - By Jessica Conant-Park & Susan Conant Page 0,83
cameras blinded me, and I was afraid that I’d trip over Nelson, who was a few feet in front of me as he walked backward down the aisle, his camera trained on me. When I finally stood before the guests, my stomach lurched. Owen’s father was seated in the front row with Phoebe and a few other cousins. Two chairs in that row had been left empty for the mother of the bride and the mother of the groom, Kitty and Eileen, who would be ushered in by Willie and Evan. The prospect of facing Kitty did nothing to calm me. I cursed myself for ever having agreed to perform this ceremony. Who did I think I was? Why had the Commonwealth of Massachusetts ever agreed to give me such power? But by then, Josh and Owen had joined me. They were standing to my left, facing the side of the tent.
Nelson had now moved toward my right, his camera still fixed on me, but at least he was not blocking my view of the aisle and the entrance. Eager to get the ceremony under way—desperate to get it over!—I stared at the opening of the tent, through which Eileen and Kitty should now be entering with their escorts. My hands were shaking so hard that the papers I was clutching rattled loudly.
Instead of escorting in Eileen and Kitty, Willie and Evan abruptly stepped into the tent by themselves. Staring at them in horror, I nearly dropped my papers. Those two idiots had actually brought shotguns! Monsters! They were doing what they’d threatened, supposedly in jest. No! Absolutely, positively not! In an emotional turnabout, I suddenly felt entitled to the central role I was playing today. I was, after all, the minister-priest-rabbi-justice-of-the-peace figure here. It was I who possessed a Certificate of Solemnization issued by the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. Therefore, I, Chloe Carter, was in charge!
In my most swift yet dignified manner, I marched to the tent entrance, faced the miscreants, and backed them out of the tent. “No way!” I growled at Evan and Willie.“If you do not get rid of those guns this second, I’ll shoot you myself!”
TWENTY-SIX
MY muted voice must have rung with the authority of the governor, the secretary of state, the attorney general, the head of the state police, and every other Power—with a capital P—in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, because the brothers immediately obeyed me. Pointing at the potted plants, I whispered, “In there!” Mercifully, there was enough foliage to conceal the weapons. Lurking a couple of yards behind Willie and Evan were Eileen and Kitty, who had clearly been enablers, if not actual coconspirators. With a little smirk on her face, Eileen said, “Now, Chloe, the boys were only—”
“It is no joke,” I whispered. With that, I pivoted around and tried to stroll casually back to my spot before the guests. I smiled and then nodded to Evan and Willie, who, deprived of their shotguns, escorted Eileen and Kitty to their seats and then took their own. My mother was the next to make her way down the aisle. By comparison with Eileen and Kitty, she seemed like an angel, and as Nelson recorded her progress, I was pleased that he was managing to point the camera at someone other than me.
My father and Adrianna appeared at the entrance, he with the ludicrous purple top hat balanced on his head, she the ultimate beautiful bride. Glancing at Owen, I saw that he was frozen in awe. I’d been dreading the moment when Adrianna caught sight of Josh’s outfit, but I’d underestimated her: she took one look at him, a vision in purple, and giggled the entire way down the aisle. My father’s coordinating hat must have prepared her for subsequent silliness. Dad led her to our little group and sat down.
Adrianna and Owen turned to face me. I locked eyes with my best friend. She tipped her head toward Josh, then toward my father, then down at her slightly battered bouquet, and rolled her eyes. We grinned at each other, and I relaxed.
“I want to welcome you all. We are gathered here to celebrate one of life’s great moments and to add our loving wishes to the words that will unite Owen and Adrianna in marriage.” My hands did not shake, and neither did my voice. By the time my mother and Owen’s father read poems, I was thoroughly enjoying myself.
Then I began the exchange of vows. “Owen, repeat after me. I, Owen,