Page 139 of Perfect Mess

Janet looked at her watch. “We should get moving. I told Mike we would taste test his latest creations before the ceremony.”

“Oh, you did, did you?” I noticed a familiar twinkle in Janet’s eye.

Mike had generously offered to supply the beer kegs, at cost, for Dick and Mabel’s wedding. He had been experimenting with new beer and cider recipes for a festival he was hosting to celebrate FoxPaw Brewing’s three-year anniversary, FoxFest. Business was booming. So good, in fact, that he hired me to scope out commercial real estate so he could build a second location.

“It’s not like that,” Janet insisted. “Just doing a favor for a friend.”

“Friends, huh?”

“I’m still scarred from the whole Jack-Ass debacle. I told you, I’m never dating another man again.”

“Okay, if you say so.”

“I do say so.”

“So you said.”

Speaking of asses, Gary scratched his. The animal I mean. Then he thumbed over his shoulder toward the big red barn at the end of the road. “You want to keep going?”

I looked him dead in the eye. “I do.”

* * *

The ranch looked amazing.After the unfortunate reunion incident, the ranch owner banished all the farm animals to the other side of the property for events. Thankfully, down wind.

Mabel looked stunning in her dress. Ethereal. Breathtaking.

Dick cried like a baby during the vows.

It was awesome. Everything. All of it.

The wedding cake had ten different layers. There were more flowers than a Swiss hillside during a yodeling festival. And best of all, enough FoxPaw beer that everyone signed up for a turn on the karaoke machine.

By popular request, Gary and Janet did an encore of theirDirty Dancingroutine.

Edna pulled out her now infamous Rod Stewart.

I went with “Baby” by Justin Bieber. It seemed like a good idea at the time.

As the night began winding down, toward the end of the reception, it was finally time for the main event. The moment of truth. The thing that everyone had been waiting to see. It was time for the bride to toss the bouquet.

Janet, Karen, and I jostled for position. My strategy was going to be that when Janet jumped for it, I would take out her legs.

Mabel turned away from us, poised for her big throw. It seemed like the bouquet sailed through the air in slow motion.

The flower girl, Mabel’s granddaughter, initially seemed to be in the right place at the right time. I may have taken her out with a hip to the solar plexus. Accidentally, of course.

To this very day, I would argue that Janet had the better position. She could have caught it if she really wanted to. But somehow, magically, it slipped right out of her hands.

And right into mine.

I stared down at the flowers in disbelief. When I looked back up, I caught sight of Gary standing across the yard, smiling.

Above us, a shooting star streaked across the night sky.

* * *

A few months later,Gary came over to the house. My house. He was taking me out on a surprise date. When I asked him where we were going, he wouldn’t tell me. “Wear comfortable walking shoes.” That was my only hint.

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