A Very Dirty Wedding (32 page)

"I guess it is a Merry
Fucking
Christmas," I say.

She stops dead in her tracks, turns around, and slaps me extra hard on the arm this time.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Kate

"Holy shit."  I stare outside at the huge pile of snow that's blown up in front of the doorway.  Wind whistles through the guesthouse as I stand there, gaping.  "Do you see this?  We can't even get out of here, let alone expect anyone else to come to us!"

"Close the door," Caulter yells from the kitchen, where he's frying bacon on the stove.  It makes my stomach rumble, and I look down at my belly as I shut the door tightly behind me.

"You kept me awake all night, kid," I say.  "I think she's going to be a soccer player or something, the way she kicks."

"
He
might be a soccer player," Caulter says.

"Seriously, we're going to have to cancel the wedding."

"It's not until four today," Caulter says, far too calm for the situation.  "Snow plows will clear the roads by then.  It'll be totally fine."

"It's still snowing!" I say, my voice louder than I intend.  "And the sky is completely grey.  It's going to snow all day!  Look at my weather app!"

I hold out my phone and Caulter glances over his shoulder at it, then turns around with a plate full of bacon.  "Eat bacon and stop stressing out," he says.

"Fine.  But just because I'm distracted by this bacon doesn't mean I'm not stressing out inside," I tell him, as I put a piece into my mouth and immediately regret it.  "Hot.  Hot.  Hot bacon."

I suck air into my mouth to cool it.

"You saw me literally
just
take that out of the pan," Caulter says.

"I'm pregnant," I tell him.  "You wave bacon in front of me and expect me to think rationally about it's temperature?  Okay, Ella is texting me about the schedule.  She says the wedding planner could organize a wedding in the middle of a combat zone, and not to worry."

"Did she say anything about the
Santa Claus incident
?"

"Oh God, why did you have to remind me of that over breakfast?" I ask.  But I don't push away the plate of bacon, because, let's face it, nothing, not even the traumatic memory of naughty elf and Santa will keep me away from a full pound of bacon.

"At least they're pretending it never happened," Caulter says.

"Which is exactly what
I
would like to do," I say.  "So it would be awesome if we could just stop talking about the incident."

"I'll say nothing else about
the incident
."

"That would be advisable, if you ever want to have sex again."

"We should definitely have sex before the wedding," Caulter says.

"I don't think we're supposed to do that," I say, checking my messages.  Bailey and Libby are texting me, pinging me one right after the other.  "Bailey and Libby will be here in an hour for hair and makeup. 
If they can get here.
  They suggested that guests arrive on dogsled.  Do you think the wedding planner really got horse-drawn sleighs?"

"I hope that's the only thing she got," Caulter mutters.

"What?" I ask.  "Wait.  What does that mean?  What aren't you telling me?"

"You know how Ella can get a little bit…enthusiastic," Caulter says.

"What do you mean by enthusiastic?" I ask, my voice dark.  "If this wedding becomes a three ring circus…"

"Well, she wasn't trying to get a bear as the ring-bearer, at least," he says, half under his breath.

"I heard that," I squeak.  "She's not getting a bear.  That is not happening."

"She didn't get a bear," Caulter says.  "I absolutely promise."

I narrow my eyes, looking at him.  "What. Did. She. Get."

"She was talking about a tiger cub," Caulter says.  "I told her you would hate the idea."

"A freaking tiger?" I squeal, my voice going up an octave.  "Why would she get a tiger to carry the rings down the aisle?  Your mother's sister's kids are doing it!"

"She couldn't get the tiger," Caulter says.  "Remember, she's just trying to help.  It's how Ella shows she cares.  And I'm sure she wanted the wedding to photograph well."

Now I'm going to hyperventilate.  "Photograph well?" I ask.  "She did not call in outside photographers.  Did she?  If there are paparazzi at the wedding…"

"No paparazzi will even be able to get through the snow," Caulter says.  He stands behind me and slides his hands over my shoulders.  "You're tense.  You should let me relax you."

"Damn right I'm tense," I say.  "There's like three feet of snow in front of our door; the wedding planner thinks she's going to cart the guests over here in horse-drawn sleighs and snowmobiles; and you just told me there might be a bear or tiger at the wedding."

Caulter spins me around on the stool I'm sitting on, so that I face him, and he takes my face in his hands.  "This is our wedding day," he says.  "And it's going to be completely perfect, no matter what happens.  I love you, and I'm marrying you today, come hell or high water.  Or ten feet of snow.  Now, I think right now what you need to do is come with me into the shower and…come with me."

He slides his hand up the inside of my thigh underneath my nightshirt, the tops of his fingertips reaching the crease of my bikini line. And despite the fact that I think I may well have an aneurysm thinking about the very real possibility that my wedding day will be a complete catastrophe, a tingle races through me at his touch.

"You're such a poet," I say, as his fingers find their way up farther, stroking my clit.

"Wait until you hear my wedding vows," Caulter says.

"Oh God," I say, as he finds my entrance with his finger, slipping easily inside.  "Don't say anything inappropriate."

"I'm Caulter Sterling," he says, covering my mouth with his.  When he pulls back, he looks at me with mischief in his eyes.  "Would I ever say anything inappropriate?"

I sigh audibly, and not just because of what Caulter is doing with his fingers between my legs.  "That's exactly what I'm worried about."

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CAULTER

It's almost four, and Ella and her wedding planner have pulled it off.  Even I have to admit that they've done a pretty good job.  It's still snowing.  In fact, the news is calling it the biggest snowstorm of the century for December.  The snowplows have had a tough time keeping up with the snow, but true to her word, the wedding planner has been shuttling guests by sleigh back and forth from the hotel down the road to the lake house.

Ella texted me an hour ago:

The sleigh was a great idea!  The guests think it's fabulous!

Two minutes later, I got another text from Ella:

I have a big surprise.  You're going to love it!

When I texted her back asking her what the hell she did, she didn't respond.  Knowing Ella, that bodes poorly, but I shrug it off and remain optimistic.

After all, today I'm marrying my best friend and the love of my life.  What the hell could go wrong?

My phone buzzes and I get a text from Kate.

Are you ready to marry me?  You're not getting cold feet, are you?

I type out my reply.

It'd be a little late for cold feet, seeing as how I already knocked your ass up.

My phone buzzes again with Kate's response.

Your spawn is trying to kick her way out of my uterus.  You don't think she'll fall out of my vagina while I'm walking down the aisle, do you?

That could be awkward.

I chuckle, except the mere thought makes my heart race.

He's still incubating.  He can't fall out yet.

P.S.  I fucking love you, Princess.

My groomsmen barge into the room with a bottle of scotch, pouring glasses and passing them around.

"Scotch to calm the nerves," Bryan says.  "And also because you'll need a glass of that so Joe can tell you what a fucking idiot he is."

"I'm not an –" Joe starts.

"What did you do?" I growl.

"Alright, just so you don't get surprised with this during the wedding," he says.  "She wanted to come, and I've been hooking up with her the past few days, so I figured she could be my plus one.  And she's not interested in you anymore, so I thought it would be totally fine."

"You did
not
bring the chick from the Celtics game to my wedding," I hiss.

"Told you, Joe," Scott says, smacking him on the back of the head.  "You're such a dumbass.  Caulter should kick your fucking ass right now."

"She'll behave," Joe says.  "I'm getting laid, and…"

"I will murder you and dump your body in a ravine," I threaten.

My phone buzzes.

I fucking love you too, Prick.  I'm walking down to the tent.  You better beat me there.  You're not supposed to see me in my dress.

"Shit," I say.  "Forget it.  We need to head down to the tent.  That crazy chick had better not make a peep, Joe.  She so much as breathes too loud and I'll beat your ass.  Now, come on. We have to get down there before Kate."

Then all of our phones start buzzing with texts from Ella.

Where the hell are you?  Get your ass down to the tent now.  You better not be standing up your pregnant fiancé.

"Let's go, before Ella sends bodyguards up to get us," I say.

"Are there bodyguards?" Joe asks.  "You seriously need some.  There were a shitload of photographers outside the gate when we came in."

"Joe," Bryan says.

I groan.  "Shit.  Kate is going to freak."

I text Ella.

Are there paparazzi outside?

Ella buzzes back.

Curated, by yours truly.  Only the best.  Got to keep out the riff raff.  A few inside, but only the ones I like.  No trash.  Get your ass down here now.

Fuck.
  I have a strong suspicion this wedding is about to be a lot more circus-like than I anticipated.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Kate

“It was a surprise!” Ella whispers brightly as I stand in the covered entryway just outside the tent with her and Rose and my father.

“That was a…a…
monkey
wearing a tuxedo and top hat!” I say, my jaw gaping.

“I know!” Ella says, beaming.  “It’s a
monkey in a tuxedo and top hat
!  Isn't he the most adorable thing you've ever seen?  I couldn’t get a tiger at this short of notice.”

“I’ve had enough surprises in the past twenty-four hours, thank you very much.”

“Your father and I had no idea you were outside the library, Kate,” Ella starts, and I interrupt her, holding up my hand.  Beside her, my father looks at me sheepishly, his face reddening.

“You guys
hate
each other,” I start, then quickly correct myself.  “Never mind.  Please do not remind me of this right before I’m going down the aisle.  This is not what I want to think about on my wedding day.”

“Can I have a moment with Kate for a second?” my father asks.  Ella and Rose step to the other side of the entryway.

“Thank you for letting me be here today,” he says, his expression pained.  “I don't deserve to walk you down the aisle.  I know that.  I didn’t know how…to deal with it after your mother died.  And you were the spitting image of her.  Everything about you reminded me of her, and I just…I loved your mother. And I love you.  But I retreated into my work.  The way I reacted after the wedding scandal…it was horrible.  I was an awful parent.  I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you’ll be a fantastic mother, and even though it’s too late for us, I’d like to try to be a good grandfather.”

I look at my father as he blinks back tears and I swallow hard.  “Maybe it’s not too late…for us," I say.

He nods as his eyes well up.  “That would be nice.”

The first few notes of the wedding march play and Rose clears your throat.  “That’s your cue, she says,” and I take a deep breath.

I’m suddenly nervous as hell.

Why am I so nervous?  I think my hands are shaking.  Is this normal?

“Kate,” Rose says, stepping close to me and taking my hands in hers.  “
Breathe
.  You’re going to be fine, dear.”

I do what she tells me -- in through my nose, out through my mouth -- but clearly she can see the panicked look on my face.

“Caulter is a good man,” Rose says.  “Your mother would love him just as much as you do.  And you’re gorgeous.”

Tears well up in my eyes and I sniffle as Rose hugs me tightly to her.  “I’m going to mess up my makeup,” I say.  “Don’t you want to sit up front?”

“I’d rather be right here with you,” Rose says, pulling me out at arms’ length.  She touches the corner of my eye with a handkerchief and smiles at me warmly.  “Now, stop your sniveling and get out there.”

“I love you, Rose,” I say, taking a deep breath and turning toward the front.  “Okay.”

“I’ve done this a lot,” Ella says, holding the edge of the tent to the side for me.  “It’s never not nerve-wracking.  Unless you’re drunk.  Look at Caulter when you walk up the aisle.  It’ll keep you steady.”

I nod, suddenly mute as I peer out at the sea of people standing, waiting for me to step forward.

“And Kate?” Ella says.

“Yes?”

“Your mother is looking down on you right now,” Ella says.  “I know she’d be so proud.”

I blink back tears, hearing the march start again, the second cue for ‘get the fuck down the aisle’.  Ella sniffles, and I realize that all of her over-the-top gestures are her way of showing she cares about Caulter and I.

“Thank you, Ella,” I say, hugging her.  “For everything.  Even the monkey.”

“Go on,” she says.  “Before everyone thinks you’re having second thoughts about this whole thing.”

Choking back tears, I walk slowly down the aisle on my father’s arm, willing my racing heart to slow down.  I breathe in, looking ahead at Caulter on the other end of the tent, flanked by the minister, the groomsmen, and my bridesmaids.  He’s wearing a tuxedo, and even though I’ve seen him in a tuxedo more times than I can remember by now, he looks more handsome than I've ever seen him.

A feeling of pride surges through me, and the baby must be as excited for the wedding as I am, because she (or he) kicks me hard again, almost enough to make me double over.  I swear this kid is sitting so low, pressing against my bladder, that I’m probably going to have to pee at least once during the ceremony.

At the front of the tent, my father pats my arm and smiles at me before taking his seat.  Then it's like everything stands still as I look at the man who's going to become my husband, my other half.

My everything.

When Caulter mouths something to me, it takes me a second to realize what he's trying to say:

Sorry about the monkey.

I give Caulter the best death-glare I can muster in the middle of our wedding.

Joe holds the monkey on a leash at the end of the line of groomsmen as if the monkey is another groomsmen, except shorter and hairier.  And wearing a top hat.

At least he's behaving.

And he's kind of cute, I guess.

Two seconds later, the monkey is loose from his leash and bounding down the aisle.  I spin around to see Ella in the back, wide-eyed and waving her arms in exaggerated gestures to the wedding planner and the monkey's trainer, who skirt up the aisles to try to catch him.

That's followed by snickers and shrieks from the guests, as the monkey has decided he's definitely not being caught.

He bounces into my father's lap, before jumping across several more people and finally landing on the shoulder of an older woman with a hat.  She shrieks loudly, completely terrified, as the monkey laughs, mocking everyone who has the audacity to think they're going to catch him.

His trainer stands at the end of the aisle, calling him: "Jake!  Jake!"

Jake the monkey responds by picking through the woman's hat like he's trying to find food, resulting in frantic screams as several guests attempt to help her by pulling the hat from her head.

"No, no!" she shouts.  "My wig is attached!"

"Oh my God," I hear myself say, and I cover my mouth, not sure whether to cry or laugh.

Of course there's a monkey loose at our wedding.

The old woman stands suddenly, shrieking and trying to pull the monkey off her hat, while another guest yells loudly: "Don't throw the monkey, you monster!"

"Who is that woman?" Caulter asks.

"I don't know," I say.  "There's a monkey loose in our ceremony and your biggest question is who the old lady is?"

Then it really becomes pandemonium as two guests break out into a loud argument about which of them better understand monkey behavior.

"God, he's really into that hat," Caulter says, taking out his phone.

"Are you taking a photo?  During our wedding?"  I ask in disbelief.

"It's kind of amazing, really," Caulter says.  "And I'm not taking a photo.  I'm recording this for posterity.  And also because I'm definitely putting this on the internet."

God, I have to pee.

This might be the best time for a pee break.  I mean, really if a monkey is running around my wedding, surely it's not that unseemly for me to slip out and pee.

I whisper to Libby.  "I really have to pee."

She raises her eyebrows.  "Now?"

"Do you think anyone would notice?" I ask.  "The monkey is really distracting."

"Uh,
yeah
.  I think they'll notice."

Then a blonde stands up.  I recognize her immediately from the blog articles online.

It's the girl from the Celtics game.

And she's dressed in a body-hugging off-white dress that clings to every over-inflated part of her.

I whirl around to face Carter.  "What the
fuck
is she doing here?"

The minister clears his throat.

"Sorry," I say, not sorry at all.

Caulter reaches out and takes my hand.  "I didn't find out until we were walking out here," he says.  "Joe –"

I don't even let him finish, mostly because I'm thinking about exactly how much of a scene it would cause if I took off my shoe and beat Joe senseless right here.

Then the bitch speaks.  Actually, she yells over the chaos erupting among the guests.  "Caulter, don't do it!  Don't marry her!"

Oh, that did
not
just happen.

"Shit," Joe curses under his breath, putting his hand on Caulter's chest to keep Caulter from running down the aisle to get rid of her.  Joe jogs down the aisle and through the seats, scooping her up and over his shoulder and heading for the exit.

She drunkenly shouts obscenities as Joe carries her out of the tent, and I speak to Caulter through gritted teeth.  "I
can't believe
that girl came to my wedding."

"Success!"  Jake's handler yells loudly, holding up the monkey in the middle of all the chaos in the tent.  The wedding guests erupt in thunderous applause.

Until the handler says, "You have the rings, don't you?"

"They were in a little pouch on the monkey," Caulter says.  I'm sure they're in the pouch."

The handler walks toward us with the monkey…and an empty pouch in his hand.  "So, don't freak, but he
has
been known to eat objects."

"Don't freak?" I ask, my voice shrill.

Then I feel a gush between my legs.

I clap my hand over my mouth, squeezing my legs together as I look at Libby with wide eyes.  I gesture frantically for her, and when she comes close, I hiss in her ear.  "I think I just peed myself."

"Right here?" she squeals.

"Yes, right here," I say, annoyed.  "I'm standing here with my legs crossed."

"Okay, we'll just walk out of here.  It's not like this wedding ceremony hasn't already shit the bed."

"Libby!"

"Sorry."

We start to move, and it happens again, fluid gushing between my legs.  So I stop, pressing my legs closed, but it's barely helping.  "I think I might have lost bladder control!"

Caulter rushes to my side, so now I'm being escorted out of my own wedding by my maid of honor and the groom.  Except that it's not stopping.  Every time I take a step, fluid pours out from between my legs.

Ella speed-walks toward us, announcing to the guests as she walks, "We'll take a ten-minute break while we regroup."  When she reaches us, she stops short.  "What's wrong?  Why aren't you moving?"

I feel my face flush hot and know it must be bright red.  "I think I peed myself," I whisper.  "But now I can't seem to stop peeing."

Ella's hand flies to her mouth as she leans in close to me.  "If you can't stop, that's not pee, Kate," she says.

"No, it's pee," I say.  "I peed myself at my own wedding."

"Take a step."

I do, and it happens again.  "I'm going to have to waddle out of here," I say.  "It's humiliating."

"That's not pee," Ella says.  "That's your water breaking."

"But I'm not due yet!" I shriek, louder than I intend to.  Several guests turn their heads, suddenly interested in what we're talking about in our huddle.

"You're five weeks early," Ella says.  "We need to get you to the hospital right away."

"Serious, Kate," Libby says.  "It's not good.  That's premature.  We should hurry."

I walk and pee – no, not pee, what's the verb for
leak my water
? – down the rest of the aisle, my heart racing.  Surely Ella isn't right.  I'll get in the house and find that I just wet myself and this will be the story I tell my kid when she's an adult – that she pushed on my bladder so hard I peed myself in the middle of my wedding.

We reach the outside, and I yell as I shiver in my wedding dress in the middle of a snowstorm.  "It's coming out every time I move!"

Oh my God, what if my water really is breaking?

The reality of the situation is finally beginning to set in.

"I can't hold this much pee," I say.  "It's not humanly possible, right?  Shit.  I'm having a baby?  We can't drive in the snow!  The roads are a mess.  It's been all over the news!"

Caulter stands in front of me and takes my hands.  "It's okay," he says.  "The guests came in sleighs.  We can take a sleigh."

"What if the baby gets jostled out on the sleigh ride?" I yell, fully aware that I'm beginning to approach a level of hysteria.  "Sleighs are bumpy!  We might as well take a dog sled and just let the baby fall out while I'm hanging on to the back of it!"

"Well, at least your sarcasm is still intact," Caulter says, shrugging out of his tuxedo jacket and putting it over my shoulders.

"I'll grab you a bag," Libby says.  "I'll get all of your stuff.  Do you know where the hospital is?"

A fresh wave of panic washes over me.  Where is the closest hospital?