Page 1 of Loose End

ONE

June

I don’t knowhow I should feel on my wedding day, but I should be feeling something. Right?

I’m literally standing here in the puffiest wedding dress ever made and while it may not have been my first choice, I can’t deny the fact that I look like I just walked right off the page of a fairytale. I’d do anything to make my sister happy, and she fell in love with this dress the second I tried it on, which is why I’m wearing this to begin with.

And yes, before you ask, there’s even a sparkly crown sitting on top of my perfectly styled hair. Can’t be a princess without it.

The clock is ticking, and there’s only a handful of minutes between me and the rest of my life. Just a short walk down the aisle and I’ll be married. I’ll have the happy ever after that so many people are desperate to find. This should be the happiest day of my life. So, why do I feel so blah?

“Umm, June. We have a bit of a problem.” Poppy, my sister and best friend, sticks her head into the bridal suite, her voice soft yet tentative. I’m sure the smile she gives me is meant to bereassuring, but it’s not. “Have I told you how much I love you in that dress?”

“Poppy?” I turn away from the full-length mirror, the ridiculous layers upon layers of white tulle swishing around my legs. “What kind of problem?”

She doesn’t answer right away, just hovers in the doorway, wringing her hands and gnawing on her bottom lip. It must be bad. She takes a small step toward me, gesturing to the skirt still moving back and forth. I swear this thing has a mind of its own, but right now, it’s the least of my worries. “The dress really does look amazing.”

“Poppy.”

“Well…” She twists her hands in front of her frilly candy pink dress—another Poppy pick. She’s digging at her French manicure which is never a good sign, and she’s already chewed the lipstick off her lower lip.

She’s stalling and we both know it, but while she’s admiring the beaded corset, my brain is running a mile a minute.

Did Uncle Frank decide to have an early sample of the wedding cake like he did at our cousin Muriel’s wedding? Were the live flowers homing a colony of bees that are now attacking the guests? Is my mom drunk already?

Sweet baby Jesus. She’s probably drunk and yelling at my dad—aka her ex-husband.

Oh, fuck…

Wait.

Can I think the word ‘fuck’ in a church? Fuck, I should have learned all the Catholic rules. Shit, I thought it again. Shit, now I’m thinking ‘shit,’ too.

I’m getting married in a church because it makes Paul’s family happy, and now I’m going to get… smited?...is that the word?... all because my mother-in- law wanted a church wedding for her little boy.

There’s a problem at my wedding and I’m going to Hell.

“Poppy, you’re freaking me out. What is it?” I reach up to run my hand through my hair but then I remember how many hours it took to get my hair into this intricate updo and, of course, the crown, can’t forget that.

“Paul’s missing.”

“What?” I shriek.

Poppy looks at the ground. The ceiling. Around the small church bridal suite. Everywhere but back at me. “According to Teddy,” her long-term idiot of a boyfriend, “Paul ran off as soon as he got his tux on and no one’s seen him since. The wedding planner was getting ready to start the ceremony, but…he’s gone.”

“What?” I repeat, this time whipping around the room—opening drawers, digging through my bags, glancing in the trash, looking for…well, I don’t exactly know what I’m looking for since my phone and my purse were taken away and put who knows where. A sheet. A bag. A pillowcase. An old Halloween mask. There was one I had of Bill Clinton I bought for a party a few years ago.

I know, not exactly helpful right now, but if I’m going to be searching the whole church, I need to hide my face. Or my whole body.

Or do I?

If you can’t find the groom does it even matter if he’s not supposed to see me before the wedding?

I freeze and despite my earlier trepidation, my blood runs cold. Oh, God. What if he decided he doesn’t want to get married tome? What if he just left?

My mom wouldlovethat. As a cut throat divorce attorney, she’s always been against the institution of marriage. And love. And happiness in general.It’s no wonder things didn’t work out between my parents.

Crap on a cracker, here I am thinking about my mom when Ishould be focused on Paul. I hope he’s okay and not passed out somewhere. This is so unlike him.

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