Page 81 of Trouble Walked In

Lizzie released Mr. Simmons and knelt before the bride, careful to avoid the train. The brown smudges of dust and dirt against the crisp white of the dress said everything about the kind of day it had been.

She took the bride’s hands in her own. “Remember when I told you that something might happen during the wedding that would seem bad at the time?”

“I thought the worst would be if it rained.” Shanna hiccupped a sob.

Lizzie squeezed her hands. “I know. Me too. I didn’t seethis coming. But my point remains the same. Remember what I said next?”

The girl looked at her through tears. “Whatever happened was meant to happen to make my day memorable and special.”

Lizzie smiled gently at her. “You’ll have quite the story to tell in the future. None of us, me included, willeverforget your wedding day. All this? It’s just made your day unique and more special than ever.”

Lizzie waited for that message to sink in not only with the bride but with everyone else.

The bride sniffed. “You really think so?”

“I do. Years from now people will tell this story, and they’ll rememberyou. How beautiful you looked. How perfect the night was. How it was all invaded by crazy fans and how y’all sailed right past all of it and had the best wedding ever.”

Shanna offered her a watery smile. “It’s pretty funny, if you think about it. Mobbed by paparazzi at my wedding like I’m a real rock star.”

The groom had been watching his bride with anxious eyes, but when she smiled, he relaxed. If she was okay, he would be too, Lizzie knew. That left the parents. The bride’s father didn’t look convinced, and her mother’s face was purple with anger.

“This…this…mob sceneisnotthe memory she should have,” Mrs. Simmons said.

The father of the groom shook a finger at the father of the bride. “This is all your fault, Simmons. I told you to use the church. You wouldn’t listen.”

“It’s not his fault. It’shers.” Mrs. Simmons pointed at Lizzie. “Belhurst Castle promised us a beautiful, custom event tailored to the bride, not a sideshow freak fest. First the DJruns out, now this. Just how many things are going to go wrong?”

Mr. Simmons put his arm around his wife. “Now to be fair, honey, she did replace the DJ with live music by that kid we all loved. If we don’t go on with the reception, we’ll miss out on that. That’d be a real shame, don’t you think?”

Lizzie realized with a start that she hadn’t told them that Jacob was stuck outside. She cast a desperate look in Renic’s direction.

He peeked out the front window and shook his head.

Lizzie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She had to tell them. It was one more thing on the pile of things that had gone wrong, and she didn’t want to do it, but she had to. She opened her eyes and ripped off the Band-Aid. “I’m so sorry, but Jacob won’t be able to make it. He’s stuck in the middle of the crowd out there and can’t get to the door.”

Mrs. Simmons took a step toward her. “What do you mean he’s stuck? Are his legs broken?”

Renic called out from the door, “He might fight his way through but there’s no way he can carry all the equipment with him, and if we open the door I don’t think we’ll be able to keep them out. We should wait for the police to show up before we even try.”

Mrs. Simmons lowered her chin, and her face took on an expression Lizzie imagined was common on mama bears defending their cubs. “I want our money back, and I want this sorry excuse for a wedding over with. Right. Now.”

Lizzie swallowed back a wave of panic. She didn’t have the money they’d paid her for the event. That money had gone toward paychecks and supplies and plumbing.

“Mom,” Shanna said. Her cheeks were still wet with tears, but she seemed distracted by something. She pointed atsomething over Lizzie’s shoulder. “Mom, look. That’s…is that…oh my God.”

Lizzie whirled to face whatever had captured the bride’s attention with dread, expecting that some fan or paparazzo had managed to sneak through with the wedding guests. Instead, she saw her sister coming down the stairs.

A wave of mutters and exclamations swept through the small group, along with a couple of squeals of excitement. The wedding party pulled out phones and started taking pictures, or recording video, or maybe livestreaming. She wouldn’t be surprised if one of them had their own YouTube channel.

“Who?” Mrs. Simmons sounded confused.

“It’s Della Bellamy! Sheishere,” the groom said. Excitement made his voice rise up an octave as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Sweetie, Della Bellamy!”

Lizzie stared at her sister with disbelief of a different kind. What the hell was she thinking? Her sudden appearance would make the fans outside go even crazier than they already were, not to mention when the rest of the wedding guests figured out who was standing here in the entryway there was sure to be another mob scene inside the house.

Della walked across the hall toward them with the long strides she used on stage. Her shoulders were back, and she held her head high like she always did when performing, but her expression was serious and not at all like her usual sunny pop star persona. “This isn’t Lizzie’s fault.”

Mr. Simmons sputtered. “Excuse me? Who are you?”

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