Page 65 of Where It Begins
He squeezes my hands. “You got this.”
Violet moves forward and hands me my cue card, and nearly trips over the back of her dress when she steps back. We both blow out a relieved breath when she finds her balance.
I turn back to Sidney and hold up the card. “Made a few notes in case my mind goes blank and I forget all the awesome things I wrote about you.”
He smiles and squeezes my hand. I glance at the cue card, skim the first few points and then refocus on him. “When you chased after me and stopped me from drinking your latte, I already knew you were one of the good ones. Although, you didn’t learn until later just how thoroughly you’d saved my a—butt that day. What I didn’t realize was that you were exactly what I needed in my life and you came into it at exactly the right time. You are an incredible father, an amazing scout and coach, an unparalleled friend, and the only time I’ll kick you out of bed is if you’re snoring like a freight train lives inside your nasal passage. I promise to stand beside you through all the fun stuff, and hold your hand through the hard times. I love everything about who you are on the inside and the outside. Your hair is particularly fantastic and I can’t wait to run my fingers through it later. After the reception.”
“Mom, stay on track,” Violet whispers.
“Right. Sorry.” I squeeze Sid’s hand. “I love you. You’re the best thing to happen to me since Violet came into my life and I can’t wait to spend the rest of it with you.”
I blow out a breath, thankful I didn’t say anything too awkward and then we’re exchanging rings and saying “I do”.
“You may kiss the bride!” our officiant announces.
Sidney lays one on me.
“Save it for the honeymoon!” Aunt Brenda shouts.
We walk down the aisle, waving at our friends as they clap and holler.
The next few hours are a blur of photos, champagne, congratulations and one kid throwing up because he ate too many cookies.
Dinner is amazing, the wine is flowing, everyone is half-sauced, and it’s time for the speeches. Miller gets up, adjusts his tie and pulls Violet’s chair out.
I put my hand on Sidney’s knee under the table. “I didn’t know Violet was giving a speech.”
“I think Miller is mostly talking,” he assures me.
Violet switched from heels to flip-flops when we arrived at the hall for the reception. She focuses on her feet as she walks the twenty feet across the raised platform. I glance at her empty spot and notice there’s a mostly empty glass of wine beside her plate.
Miller keeps one hand poised behind her as if he’s ready to catch her should she stumble. A little kid screams about ice cream from the guest tables. Miller glances toward the audience as Violet takes the first step down, and then everything goes terribly sideways.
And it’s all being broadcast on the big screen on the other side of the hall. Violet’s dress gets caught between her flip flop and her heel and the whole bodice slides down. Miller gazelle-leaps off the stage while simultaneously shrugging out of his suit jacket. He quickly drapes it over Violet, but it’s too late, everyone has already seen her tatas.
The entire room goes pin-drop silent.
I push my chair back and hop to my feet. Sidney moves to stand, but I put a hand on his shoulder. “I got this.” I quickly strut across the raised platform, pausing at Violet’s spot to grab her clutch and rush to help.
I make eye contact with Aunt Brenda and she gives me a curt nod, and then opens her duffle bag sized purse and starts handing out a round of Jell-O shooters. If ever there was a time to get our guests as sauced as possible, it’s now.
Miller’s eyes are as wide as saucers and Violet is the color of a ripe tomato. He’s holding his suit jacket up like a shield. Violet’s back is facing the guests and thankfully the videographer has shifted his focus. Unfortunately, he’s panning across the stricken faces of the guests. Everyone has seen my daughter’s boobs. This one is going to be hard to live down.
Violet looks like she’s about to burst into tears. “Cover us so I can get her to the bathroom,” I tell Miller.
He nods, eyes still wide, and not blinking. He follows us to the door and I wrap a protective arm around Violet, ushering her into the bridal suite and locking the door behind us.
“Oh my God.” She blinks at me. “Everyone saw my boobs. The flip-flops were supposed to prevent a wardrobe malfunction, not cause one!” She flails her arms around like the inflatable balloon guy on a particularly windy day.
“Everyone is drunk on wine and the vodka Jell-O shooters Aunt Brenda brought along in her picnic basket.” She was handing them out just before the reception.
“Is that why they burned going down? I think she was giving them to the little kids, too.” Violet blows out a breath. “Remind me to never wear a strapless dress ever again. I thought the double-sided tape was going to be enough to keep it in place, but obviously I was wrong. Buck saw my boobs. Up close and personal. It’s going to be awkward now forever.”
“It’s only awkward if you make it awkward.”
Violet gives me a pinched, disbelieving look.
“Okay. It’ll be a little awkward, but let’s look on the bright side of things. You have a great rack. Your boobs still hold themselves up, if ever there was a time to have a wardrobe malfunction, it’s now, when they’re perky and gravity hasn’t dragged the bitches down to your knees and you don’t need enough under-wire to build an entire birdcage with.” I motion to my own girls, strapped into an under-wire prison so they sit high and mighty on my chest.