Authors: Kristin Wallace
This could not be happening.
“Has he had any punch today?” Julia asked.
“He drank a gallon of the stuff,” his wife answered. “He loves it, even though he shouldn't have that much because it's loaded with sugar.”
“Not today,” she said under her breath.
“Where's the ambulance?” the woman screamed again.
Julia stood and tried to calm the older woman down. “Ma'am, I think he passed out.”
“Then it
is
serious.”
“No, Ma'am. I think he's drunk.”
“That's impossible,” the woman sputtered. “Henry hasn't touched alcohol in thirty years.”
“Wellâ”
Betsy ran up at that moment, with Amy on her heels. “Amy was already on the phone. The ambulance is on its way. What's wrong with him?”
“I think he drank too much punch.”
Betsy's mouth dropped open. “Oh, no.”
“Oh, no?” The woman gripped Julia's arm hard enough to leave bruises. “What do you mean, oh no? What's wrong with the punch? Has it gone bad? Are we all going to be sick?”
“More like hungover.”
“Julia? What's that in your hand?” Amy asked in the sudden silence.
Julia realized she still held one of the empty liquor bottles.
En masse
the crowd looked down as well.
“Is that vodka?” the older woman asked.
“It was,” Julia answered.
A mottled flush crept up the woman's cheeks. “You put alcohol in the punch?”
There was a chorus of angry buzzing now.
“Unbelievable.”
“How could she?”
“I knew we shouldn't trust her.”
And the best oneâ¦
“Well, with a father like that, what can you expect?”
Julia faced them without flinching. “I did not spike the punch. I just discovered the bottles. I don't know how this happened. It was probably a prank. Amy, did you see anyone near the tables when you were setting up?”
Amy shook her head. “I'm sorry,” she whispered, as tears started to form.
“I hope you're not trying to blame Amy for this travesty,” the older woman said. “She would never do something like this. What about my husband? Do you know how much damage alcohol could do to a man his age?”
“I doubt he'dâ”
Julia was saved by the welcome sound of a siren. The paramedics rushed in, and within minutes, Henry had been being hoisted on a stretcher and was being wheeled out of the room. His frantic wife followed behind, wailing about alcohol poisoning and asking if Henry's stomach would have to be pumped.
The party mood seemed to evaporate then. Some of the guests started leaving. Others conveniently began complaining about headaches and nausea.
Julia turned to her assistants. “Get lots of coffee made. Make sure everyone who drank the punch gets some. Watch the guests. Don't let anyone leave if they look tipsy. I'm going to the hospital.”
They both nodded and rushed off toward the kitchen. Julia headed for the door.
Julia was about to hop into her car when her phone rang again. “Sarah, it's not a good time,” she said, before her stepsister could launch into another tirade. “I'm headed to the hospital.”
“That's convenient,” Sarah answered. “So am I.”
Julia froze with her key in the ignition. “You are?”
“Mary is on her way,” Sarah said.
“Now?” White dots swam before Julia's eyes, and she clasped the steering wheel. “Isn't it too soon? Are you all right? Is someone with you?”
“Eric is here. And mom was visiting. We're on our way to the hospital now. It's early, but we pray not too early.”
“I'll be there in a few minutes.”
****
The drive to the hospital seemed to take forever. A quick inquiry directed Julia to the third floor.
Grace stood in the waiting room. “Julia. Thank goodness you made it,” she said, opening her arms.
“Have you heard anything?” Julia asked. “Are they giving Sarah something to stop the contractions? How is she?”
Grace smoothed the hair back from Julia's face. “Sarah is fine right now. The labor has already progressed so it's too late for medication. The baby's coming.”
“Is it too early?”
“She's at thirty-three weeks, which isn't too bad. Her doctor told me most babies do fairly well at this stage. We have to pray there won't be too many complications.”
Julia didn't like the sound of that. “What kind of complications?”
Grace put an arm around Julia's shoulders. “Let's not even talk about that. If we start picturing horrible things, we'll make ourselves crazy.”
“How can you not think horrible things?”
Rather than answer, Grace steered them toward a row of chairs. “Why don't we sit?”
“I can't,” Julia said. “Actually, I was already on my way to the hospital, but for another reason.”
“What's going on?”
“More proof that I don't belong in the wedding business, as if I didn't already know.”
“Surely it can't be that bad.”
What Julia wouldn't give for Grace's optimism. “Oh, it can. I'll be back soon.”
It wasn't hard to find Henry. Or rather his family. There were about a thousand people gathered in the waiting room, and they all looked alike. Henry's hysterical wife sat in a chair wringing her hands, while another woman tried to comfort her.
“Mercy, calm down,” the calm one said. “Henry will be fine. It's not like he drank the whole bowl, you know. He'll sleep it off and most likely wake up with a headache tomorrow.”
Mercy stopped wringing her hands long enough to gasp in outrage. “Oh, Lydia, how can you be so uncaring? Henry could be dying in there, and youâ” she stopped when she spotted Julia hovering in the doorway.
Julia tried to shrink back into the hospital-brand blue painted walls without apparent success.
“That woman tried to poison my husband,” Mercy declared, pointing a bony finger in accusation
.
Julia half expected flying monkeys to swoop down and cart her off at any second.
“Oh, for land's sake,” the other woman said. “It was vodka, not arsenic.”
It may only have been alcohol, but most of the occupants of the room still seemed to think Julia had added the secret ingredient to the punch. An army of angry relatives stared her down with various shades of contempt. Except for one friendly and familiar face.
“Nicole Rivers,” Julia said in shock, as her old friend from school waded through the crowd.
“Hi, Julia.”
A horrible thought seized her. “Please tell me the guy who passed out isn't your father,” Julia said.
“Uncle. Aunt Mercy is my mother's sister.”
“Which one is your mother?”
“The one trying to keep Aunt Mercy from going off the deep end,” Nicole said with a wry grin.
“Your uncle is going to be all right, isn't he?”
“I'm sure he is. We haven't seen the doctor yet, but it's pretty rare for someone to have serious complications from a few glasses of spiked punch.”
“What about your aunt? Is she going to be all right?”
“Oh sure. Aunt Mercy's always been this way,” Nicole said, with a flick of her hand. “She gets a headache and immediately imagines it's a brain tumor. My mom and the rest of the family spend most of their waking hours calming her down.”
Julia looked around the room. “Are all these people related to you?”
“Yeah. My mother had five brothers and sisters. They all married and had kids. And so on and so on.”
“Are they all ready to haul me off to jail right now?”
“Of course not.” Nicole grinned. “I must say you do lead an exciting life. Malfunctioning dresses, malfunctioning noses, killer bees, grooms with cold feet.”
“You know about my misfortunes?”
“Everyone knows about them. Most of us wait with baited breath to find out what will happen next.”
Julia buried her face in her hands. “Fabulous, so I've become fodder for gossipy old biddies at the beauty parlor.”
“And the country club, the Botanical Gardens, and now the Rotary Club I guess. You've become a legend.”
“Well, now we can add contributing to the delinquency of senior citizens to my list of accomplishments. Should I expect lawsuits?”
“No one is going to sue you.” Nicole put a hand on Julia's shoulder. “It'll blow over in a few days.”
“I'm not sure serving spiked punch at an Elder's daughter's wedding is the way to win friends and influence people.”
Nicole laughed again. “Oh, Julia, you certainly haven't lost that rapier wit. I always loved that about you. I've missed it and you.”
Julia felt a silly sting of tears, which she fought back. “I don't think I've ever been missed before.”
“That's not true. Grace missed you something fierce. So did Sarah.”
They were interrupted when Nicole's mother walked over.
“Hello, Mrs. Coleman,” Julia said.
“Hello, Julia,” Mrs. Coleman said, with genuine warmth. “It's good to see you again. It's been a long time so I'm not even sure you remember me.”
“I do now,” Julia said. “I didn't realize the man I put into a stupor was Nicole's uncle, though. I'm so sorry about this. When I found the bottles under the table, I couldn't believe it.”
“Do you know what happened?” Mrs. Coleman asked.
“Not a clue. I can only assume it was a prank of some kind. Of course, most of the guests think I was the one who doctored the punch.”
“No one believes that,” Nicole said.
“You obviously didn't hear the people around me.”
“Juliaâ”
There was a stir at the other end of the room as the doctor appeared. Everyone came to attention as he surveyed the room. His mouth quirked as he took in the anxious faces.
“Henry is going to be fine,” the doctor said. “Nothing a little nap and a couple aspirin won't cure.”
“You're sure he doesn't have alcohol poisoning?” Henry's wife asked. “Did you have to pump his stomach?”
“I'm sure, and there was no need for stomach pumping. He didn't actually drink that much, but his tolerance level was low because it's been so long since he's had any alcohol.”
“When can he go home?”
“We'll keep him here until he sobers up. Don't want him driving in his condition.”
“Oh, thank goodness. My poor nerves can't take this.” Mercy looked over at Julia. “I hope you're happy, young lady.”
“I didn'tâ” Julia broke off. Why bother? They'd never believe her. “I'm glad to hear your husband is going to be fine.”
“No thanks to you.”
Julia couldn't stop the wince. She shouldn't care if the miserable old lady believed her, but the knowledge still stung.
“Mercy, stop it,” Mrs. Coleman said in exasperation. “Julia had nothing to do with this.”
Mrs. Coleman's show of support did a lot to soothe Julia's bruised psyche.
“Thank you”,
she mouthed back before turning to Nicole. “Listen, I only came down to make sure everything was all right, but I have to hurry back upstairs.”
“What's going on?” Nicole asked.
“Sarah is here. The baby is coming.”
Both Nicole and her mother looked concerned.
“It's still a few weeks early, isn't it?” Mrs. Coleman asked.
“Sarah is thirty-three weeks, which Grace tells me is good.”
“Go, go,” Nicole said, urging Julia toward the door. “I can't believe you came down here at all. We'll go to the chapel and say a prayer before we leave.”
“And I'll call my prayer circle and let them know,” Mrs. Coleman added.
“Thank you,” Julia said, giving them both a hug.
The waiting room was a lot more crowded by the time Julia made it back. Seth had arrived with his father, and Eric's parents were there as well.
Grace raised her head from John's shoulder. “Is everything all right, dear?”
Julia didn't bother trying to explain her situation now. They could all dissect her latest disaster after the current crisis had been dealt with. “Any word on Sarah and the baby?”
“Not yet,” Grace said.
Double doors opened behind them, and Eric strode out. Everyone froze as they waited for news. He smiled, though he still seemed tense. “I came out to tell you everything is going well. The labor is progressing nicely. The doctor thinks it'll only be a few more hours.”
“Thank you, Eric,” Grace said.
“I think Sarah could use a visit from her mother,” Eric said. “She's worried.”
Grace sprang out of her seat. “Of course I'll come.”
They disappeared through the double doors. John leaned his head against the chair and closed his eyes, while Seth paced along the far wall. Eric's parents decided to take a walk. Spent, Julia sank down into a nearby chair.
Seth dropped into the seat next to her a moment later. “I hear you're spiking punch these days.”
Her eyes flew open. “My growing infamy is out already?”
“Amy called me. How'd you do it anyway?”
The old Julia would have given a pithy response. The new, and currently unraveling Julia, couldn't manage to get any words out. The stupid tears she'd been holding back most of the day erupted.
Panic flashed across Seth's face. “Hey, what's this?”
“I didn't⦠put⦠anything⦠in the⦠punch,” she managed to blubber.
“Aw, Jules, I know that,” Seth said. “I was joking.”
Julia gulped in a shuddering breath. “Oh⦠Okay.”
“You have to stop crying. It tears me up.” He ran a finger across her cheek, wiping away her tears. “What's going on?”
“Don't look at me like that.” She swiped his hand away, unable to handle having him touch her right now. “I'm probably having a nervous breakdown. I'll be fine in a minute.”
“You don't really think people blame you for the spiked punch?” he asked, relaxing into the chair again.
“I
know
they do.”
“When did you start caring what all those people think anyway?”
“I'm not sure, but it's starting to tick me off,” Julia said, with a shaky sigh. “Caring is so messy.”
“Sometimes caring can also be incredibly rewarding.”
Julia swiped the heel of her hand across her face. “Uh huh, and I'm sure you're going to tell me why it's so great.”
“Of course I am.” Seth pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and used it to clean her up. “Try this. Caring takes you beyond yourself. It makes you think of more than your needs.”
There was too much intimacy in the act of him stroking her face, so Julia snatched the bit of white cloth before she did something stupid. Like cry on his shoulder again. Or kiss him.
“You carry real handkerchiefs around all the time?” she asked.
A corner of his mouth lifted. “Tools of the trade. People are always bursting into tears around me.”
“Another one of the hazards of your profession, I suppose.”
“No, one of the rewards. Easing people's pain is one of the best parts of my job.”
“You are so strange,” she said. No. He was wonderful and kind, which was such an inconvenience when she was trying so hard not to like him. Why couldn't he be insufferable and boring? Or forgettable?
He gave her a salute. “Thank you.”
“Thank
you
for not carting me off to the funny farm.”
“I told you, you're not crazy. Realizing you care for people is a good thing. It's growth.”
“So these are growing pains?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Hmm⦠still ticks me off.”
Whatever Seth might have said in reply was cut off when Amy burst into the waiting room. She paused when she saw them huddled in the corner. With almost comical precision, Julia and Seth put a healthy amount of distance between themselves.
Seth widened the gap by rising to greet Amy.
“Darling, I came as soon as I could get away from the wedding,” Amy said. “Is there any news?”
“Nothing yet. It could be several more hours.”
“Oh, poor Sarah. She must be so worried.“
Seth put an arm around her. “We all are.”
For a moment they all went silent. Finally, Seth cleared his throat. “I think I'm going to hunt up some coffee. Anyone else want a cup?”
“I could use one,” Julia said.
Seth went in search of sustenance. Julia glanced over at John and saw he'd dozed off. Which left her alone with Amy. The two women stared at each other in strained silence.
Amy launched the first salvo. “How is our unfortunate wedding guest?”
“Sleeping it off,” Julia said, keeping her expression blank. “He should be fine.”
“That's a relief.”
“Are you sure you didn't see anyone near the punch table when you were setting up this morning?” Julia asked, searching for any explanation.
“No, I'm sorry,” Amy said, fisting her hands together. “I feel so awful, like it's my fault somehow. I should have been paying closer attention. And I only made things worse by pointing out the empty bottle in your hand.”
“Yes, thanks for that,” Julia said dryly.
Amy managed a perfect little blush. “I hope the family isn't too angry with you... er...
us
.”
“As it turns out Henry's niece is a friend from school.”
“You have friends here?” Amy blurted out. “I mean, people you still keep in contact with?”
Julia suspected the first question hadn't been an accident. “Nicole Coleman. Nicole Rivers now. We hung out.”