Page 75 of Bride Games

As Nigel read the wedding vows in his alluring British accent, Emma couldn’t take her eyes off Eli. He clearly felt the same about his bride-to-be. It was as if no one else was in the room, even though it was packed with people of all ages. They had decided to go with traditional vows instead of writing their own. Emma’s heart pounded with excitement. She could barely breathe as she tried to take in and remember every detail of their vows while Nigel spoke.

When Nigel asked the obligatory question, “Does anyone object to this marriage?” a woman in the back of the chapel yelled a terse, “I do!”

Emma’s mouth dropped open, completely slack-jawed. With shocked expressions, both Emma and Eli turned to one another and then toward the objector dressed in white. All guests swiveled toward the woman, as if rehearsed. A loud,collective gasp fell throughout the improvised chapel. A wave of nausea overcame Emma. She felt as if her knees might buckle as she heard whispers and murmurs, followed by a heavy, uncomfortable silence. Seconds felt like hours.Who does this? Who?

Swallowing past a huge lump, Emma stared at Eli who had dropped her hand. He was clearly fixated on the woman in the back—the woman with stylish hair wearing a lacy, white dress. Emma wanted to vomit. Ignoring the waves of nausea, she watched with horror as Eli rushed toward the shrill, dissenting voice. Emma wasn’t sure if she should join him, took a step, but stopped short after hearing Eli say, “Mom?”

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The intruder waved her hand dismissively as she barked, “What is this? A hokey Dollar Store wedding?” Rolling her eyes, she added, “At an elementary school, no less?” The woman put her hands on her hips, locked eyes with Eli, and hissed, “Why wasn’t I invited to my son’s wedding?”

More gasps were heard in the chapel, followed by puzzled, angry comments, “Who is this?” “What’s going on?” and “How dare she?” Emma felt every eye on her and did the only thing she could think of—she ran back into the girls’ bathroom. Before she entered the hallway, she heard Paige shriek to the videographer, “Stop filming.Now.”

Once safely inside the restroom, Emma slammed a toilet seat down, plopped down with her wedding dress splayed across the floor, and burst into tears.

Lucy and Paige were close on her heels.

Lucy stared at her wide-eyed. “What’s wrong, Mommy?”

Emma’s snot competed with her tears. Naturally the toilet paper holder in the stall she chose was empty. “Will you get me a tissue, Luce?”

Lucy skipped around the bathroom, oblivious to the magnitude of the situation. After she unrolled half a roll of toiletpaper, she handed the softball-sized ball of tissue to her mother. “Here, Mommy. Pweaze don’t cry.”

“What fresh hell is this?” Paige’s voice rose. “Do you know who that woman is?”

Emma could barely catch her breath between sobs. “Apparently, that’s Eli’s mother. He said they became estranged after his father died, but”—she shrugged as fresh tears emerged—“he clearly must have had a change of heart. I can’t believe he invited his mother without telling me.” Wiping away tears, Emma asked, “What mother-in-law-to-be would stoop this low and object to our freaking wedding?” She held up a finger. “I can answer that. One from hell, obviously. Gee, welcome to the family, Emma. Let me ruin the most important day of your life before we even have our first meal together.” Sniffling as she attempted to unwrap the ball of tissue, Emma blew her nose. “How can my sweet fiancé have a wicked mother?”

Paige shook her head. “I’m so sorry, Em. This is unbelievable. What a selfish witch.” She huffed. “She’s also ruining my big story.”

Emma laughed. “Only you can get away with that.”

“You know I’m joking. I told them to stop filming. Your wedding day is far more important than my scoop. I’d never do that to you.” Paige kissed the top of Emma’s head. “Although if we included this dreadful woman’s objection, the ratings would be over the top. You’d probably get your own reality show.”

“I know you’re trying to make me laugh.” Emma stared at her best friend through bloodshot eyes. “It’s not working.”

“You almost smiled, girlfriend.”

Lucy reached for her mother’s hand. “Why are we in here, Mommy? Aren’t you ‘posed to marry Mr. Hansen?”

Emma bobbed her head as she attempted to wipe mascara streaks from beneath her eyes. “Please get me more tissues, Luce. Alotmore.”

After Lucy handed her mom another enormous handful of toilet paper, her brows furrowed. “What’s wrong, Mommy? You said this was the best day of your life ‘cept when I was born.”

Swallowing past a walnut-sized lump, Emma held Lucy’s face with her free hand. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

Lucy bobbed her head. “Uh huh.”

“It should have been.” After blowing her nose again, Emma added, “It’s complicated, sweetie.”

Lucy crossed her arms. “Tell me why. Is it about Mr. Hansen?”

Emma almost chuckled at the fact that even on their wedding day Lucy still could not bring herself to call her former kindergarten teacher by his first name. She dabbed at her eyes, threw a balled up half black, half white tissue on the floor and wiped her nose with the remaining toilet paper. Her daughter would never understand the intricacies of a new relationship, let alone one that might not be happening—at least not today.

Lucy sat on the bathroom floor and crossed her legs. Emma recoiled but didn’t scold her daughter for sitting on the nasty floor. Germs were the least of her worries now.

Lucy put both elbows on her knees and stared at her mother as if she were a bizarre modern painting she couldn’t quite make out. “Mommy, don’t you want to marry Mr. Hansen?”

Emma decided to answer honestly. “I don’t know, Luce. Things have changed.”

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