My Life in Shambles(97)

“No, we aren’t dating,” she says with an aggravated sigh. “You know, men in the film business are assholes.”

“We just call them arseholes over here,” I say.

“Okay,” the photographer calls out to us. “Let’s get some pictures of the bridal party with the owl.”

“Yes!” Sandra says, jumping to her feet, her blue strapless dress billowing behind her as she goes over to Padraig and the groomsmen.

Angie rolls her eyes and gets up. “This bird better not shit on me.”

“Owl shit is good luck in Ireland,” I tell her.

“You’re joking,” she says to me after a moment.

I shrug and laugh. “I don’t know, it feels like everything is good luck here.”

She pauses and gives me a proud look. “You’ve come a long way, Val. I’m not surprised that things are only going to get better for you. You know you deserve it, don’t you?”

I nod. “I know.”

She then looks over to our parents who are walking down the driveway toward us, my mom holding onto Tabitha’s hand. She was our flower girl at the start of the ceremony.

Angie adds, “No matter what they say, remember to believe that.” Then she goes to grab Tabitha’s hand and join the photoshoot where her daughter is immediately enchanted by the owl.

I smile at my parents as they approach. My mother has been on her best behaviour, though I’m not sure how long that will last, but my father has been keeping her in line and so far she’s stayed away from the champagne, which helps.

“When is it our turn?” my father says, sounding a lot like Sandra did earlier. “You know, it’s so rare that I get dressed up like this anymore. I want the photos to catch me in my prime.”

“Oh, you are far beyond your prime, dear,” my mother says to him.

But my father just laughs. “If that’s true, what does that make you?”

She rolls her eyes and gives me a sweet smile. “It was a beautiful ceremony dear. I couldn’t help but cry. Everyone was saying how beautiful you look.” I pause, waiting for her to contradict them. “And they were right. I’ve never seen you look so beautiful, so happy. And that dress fits you like a dream.”

“Thank you,” I say, getting teary-eyed at the compliment. “I am happy.”

“I know,” she says. Then she frowns. “But then that owl came out and gave me such a fright. You know those things carry diseases right? They eat vermin.”

“The owl has a clean bill of health,” I assure her, just as Padraig walks over and gestures to the photoshoot. Sandra has the gauntlet on and is posing with Hemi and Hooter McGavin.

“They need the parents,” Padraig says. “I’ll go get Nan.”

“I’m right here, for feck’s sake,” Agnes says, appearing before us and dressed like the Queen of England, complete with pink pillbox hat. “I’ve been here the whole time, what’s wrong with ye?”

“You look so marvelous,” my mother says to her sweetly.

Agnes frowns at her. “I know I do.”

Padraig comes to me and kisses me on the cheek and takes my hand. “Come on.” He leads me across the lawn where we take pictures with everyone until Hooter has decided he’s had enough and lands on Agnes’s hat where he refuses to leave. She has to walk with him on her like that all the way to the mews to put him away.

By the time the sun is setting and dinner has been served and the reception is in full-swing, with everyone is drunk and happy and dancing, the magic of the evening is finally settling in.

I’m married.

I can’t believe it.

“Is this wedding everything you thought it would be?” Padraig murmurs into my ear as we sway to the music, slow dancing.

“Yes,” I tell him. I pull back and smile up at his handsome face. My husband. “It was everything and more. The wedding I dreamed of when I was a kid, complete with the owl.”

“Really?”

I shrug. “I was a big fan of the movie Labyrinth and I’d often pretend I was going to marry the Goblin King, who was part owl.”

“Big Bowie fan, huh.”

“No, just a fan of the bad boy,” I tell him. “Until I realized what I really needed was a good man. Just like you.”

The song then changes to Sinead O’ Connor’s “Nothing Compares To You.” It’s Sandra’s favorite song. Like, growing up, she was obsessed with it and often threatened my mother by saying she wanted to shave her head like Sinead. I automatically look through the crowd for her and spot her talking with Angie, clapping her hands together excitedly.

Then Angie points to Hemi and says something to Sandra. Sandra nods, throws her shoulders back and her tits out and marches across the floor to where Hemi is standing with his teammates. Next thing you know, the two of them are heading onto the dancefloor.

“She sure works fast,” Padraig says with a chuckle, watching the scene along with me.

“She knows what she wants and I don’t think poor Hemi is going to have a say in it,” I laugh.

“Judging from the way he’s holding her, I really don’t think the bugger minds.” He nods at them and I notice Hemi’s grip is very tight around her and very close to her ass.