Page 68 of No Vow Broken

The drop off went perfectly.

When we got to the parking lot of the grocery store, Slash handed the driver the money, as well as a nice tip.

“Hey, do you know if this has anything to do with the drone attack in DC yesterday?” the driver asked him.

“There was a drone attack in DC?” Slash asked, lifting an eyebrow.

“Yeah, it’s the craziest thing. Everyone is talking about it. Technology is taking over the world, right?”

“Sure seems that way,” Slash said. “Thanks for the lift.”

By the time the bakery driver sped away, Basia and Xavier were arguing about who would drive the car.

“Why can’t I drive?” Xavier complained.

“Because it ismycar.”

“I drove it up here.”

“Exactly. So you can’t say I don’t let you drive my car. But I’m here now, and it’s my car, so I drive.”

Xavier reluctantly abdicated the driver’s seat, and Slash guided Mom, Tito, and Father Armando into Amanda’s car. Elvis, Slash, and I rode with Basia and Xavier. Xavier had already claimed shotgun and Slash looked unhappy about it. He was not a good passenger, especially in the back seat.

We climbed in and I squeezed into the middle between Slash and Elvis.

“Who else is going to be at the church tonight?” Elvis asked.

“My mom said the photographer asked for entire the wedding party, but because of our extenuating circumstances and difficulty getting everyone out of the hotel unnoticed, I thought the smaller the group, the better,” I replied. “So, in addition to us, just the photographer. I ran it past Amanda, and she informed the photographer it would be a smaller group. Apparently, our photographer was willing to work with that.”

“This may be a stupid question, but why do we have to meet the photographer before the wedding?” Elvis asked.

“Well, we haven’t met her yet, for starters,” I answered. “Also, Slash and I have to confirm where we want to take wedding and family photos while at the church. Amanda recommended, and we agreed, it would be best to take the photos before the wedding, so we don’t make our important guests wait for us at the reception for an interminably long time.”

Elvis shrugged. “Sounds sensible.”

Basia pulled out of the gravel grocery store parking lot, causing us to whiplash slightly. I gave Slash a sideways glance. He wasn’t scowling, but it was close. At least the SUV fit the five of us comfortably, with a decent space behind the second seat where several cardboard boxes were stashed.

“This is a nice car,” I said to Basia as the car rode along smoothly. “Good choice.”

“Thanks. It maneuvers like a dream.”

“Are you sure you can see over the dashboard?” Slash needled, so I elbowed him in the gut.

Basia’s response was take the next turn a little aggressively to remind Slash who was in control. I laughed out loud as Slash’s scowl darkened. The needling and friendly banter were nice after the difficult past few days.

Slash rolled the window down, and we enjoyed the cool spring air as it blew into the car. As we turned onto a road and got closer to the church, we encountered a police roadblock. We slowed down, and Basia opened her window to speak with the officer.

“We’re headed to St. Michael’s to meet the wedding photographer,” she said.

“Identification, please.”

We all handed over our IDs. The officer looked at the IDs and then carefully inside the car to make sure we matched the provided identification. After a minute, he checked something on a tablet and then waved us through. “Go ahead.”

“Thank you.”

Basia followed the paved, two-lane road with narrow dirt and gravel shoulders to the little white church, which quickly came into view. Before we could get to the main parking lot, however, a Secret Service agent stepped out from behind a car and held up a hand to stop us.

He approached the SUV as another agent joined him. “Sorry, ma’am. Please turn off the car. We need to run a sweep.”

---