The Firework Exploded (The Holidays #3)(45)

He finishes his explanation with a nervous smile, turning us both toward the aisle.

“We should probably move quickly before the grand finale starts. There are quite a few M-80’s in that thing and it would be best if we got people to safety before they go off,” my father tells me, walking us at a clipped pace down the red fabric-lined aisle that has so many burn holes in it, I stop counting.

Lifting my head when we get halfway down, my eyes lock on Sam’s as he waits for me, his body jumping and his arms flying up to cover his head with each explosion of another firework in the yard. He smiles at me and shrugs and there’s nothing I can do but smile back as I make my way toward him.

Suddenly, Scheva jumps out in front of us from a seat in the aisle, her neatly styled up-do from this morning falling all around her face in a mess of tangles and knots.

“Would you rather have a vagina that smelled like a fish, or a fish for a pet that smelled like a vagina?!” she shouts, her face an inch away from mine.

“Okay, that one might be my fault. I take full responsibility for her,” my dad admits as I look back and forth between them when Alex runs up behind us, joining us in the middle of the aisle.

“I WANT TO HAVE SEX WITH ALL THE PEOPLE!” Scheva yells, pointing at random guests who have remained in their chairs, but aren’t paying attention to anything that is happening in the aisle. “I want to have sex with you, and you, and YOU! ALLLLLLLLL THE PEOPLE!”

Her eyes zero in on the priest from my parents’ church standing a few feet away and he quickly backs up, knocking over empty chairs and tripping over them as he turns and runs in the opposite direction.

“Shit. Now we’re going to have to find a new church. Again,” my father sighs as we watch their priest continue running until he rounds the corner of the house and disappears from the yard.

“So, if sex with three people is a threesome, what’s it called when you have sex with all the people?” Alex asks, darting around us to yank Scheva away from a terrified woman clutching tightly to her chair before Scheva can straddle her.

“I believe that’s called a gang bang,” I tell him dryly, my eyes going back to meet Sam while he cowers under the wooden “O” canopy, waiting for me.

“How exactly are you at fault for whatever is happening with Scheva?” I ask my father, my eyes staying locked on Sam’s before I feel the need to collapse in the middle of the aisle and start crying louder than the frostbitten strippers.

“Remember that little mix-up with your Aunt Bobbie’s medication right before Valentine’s Day when you went for that job interview?” my father asks as Scheva rips open the front of Alex’s shirt and buttons go flying.

Even though I’d like to forget that job interview and how my aunt accidentally gave me an Ecstasy pill instead of a Xanax to calm my nerves, I can’t. The day I asked a stranger wanting to hire me if he’d have sex with me, took off half my clothes, and then danced on top of his desk will be burned into my brain forever. As the images of that day flash through my brain, I immediately understand my father’s words and glare at him.

“She was all nervous about giving her maid of honor speech later and she started crying!” my father complains. “You know I don’t like crying females. I grabbed your aunt’s bottle of pills from the counter and made her take one. I can’t get the fireworks to shut off, and now I can’t get her to shut off.”

Taking a second to close my eyes and give myself a few deep, calming breaths, I reopen them when I no longer feel like crying or killing people. Pasting a smile on my face, I smooth my hands down my dress in between ducks of wayward fireworks shooting across the yard.

“EVERYONE TAKE YOUR FUCKING SEATS! I’M GETTING MARRIED!” I scream, grabbing my father’s elbow and dragging him down the aisle.

I keep my eyes on Sam the whole way, reminding myself that none of this matters. The only important thing right now is getting to his side, saying our vows and finally becoming husband and wife. Fireworks explode, people scream, strippers might need to have their tits surgically removed, Scheva is running up and down the aisles trying to get people to dance or have sex with her, women and children are being evacuated, and none of it matters. All I care about is the man waiting for me at the end of this singed and dirty aisle.

Right when my father and I get to the front row and I think I’m home free, my mother leans into the aisle and stops us.

“How do you expect me to get blood and jizz stains out of your wedding dress?” she asks with a tisk and a shake of her head as she stares down at my dirty skirt. “Honestly, you two couldn’t have waited just a few more hours before you took Mr. Ed for a walk in your vagina?”

Before I can stop him, my father pulls his arm away from my hand and runs full speed toward Sam, screaming at the top of his lungs.

“I ALWAYS KNEW YOU WERE BAD NEWS, SHIT TITS!”

Sam doesn’t even have time to brace himself before my father pulls his fist back and punches him in the stomach. My mother screams and I shout, but neither of us can be heard over the chaos happening all around us, that includes my father shouting about curdled milk and people spitting on sweet, innocent ice cream sandwiches, tainting them forever.

I probably shouldn’t have mumbled to my mother that the good news was, things couldn’t get any worse as we made our way up to Sam and my father.