Page 85 of Four Weddings and a Funeral Director
‘Just go on with the vows,’ whispered Lily into her walkie-talkie.
‘Roger,’ said Rainbow Soleil, a hand over her earpiece. ‘Over.’ She spun a circle, her kaleidoscopic robes flaring. The sequinnedpeace symbols on her scarf flashed, and Lily crossed her fingers that they wouldn’t attract the crows.
‘Oops, too far,’ said the celebrant, putting a hand on the massive wildflower arch for balance. ‘Dizzy. Let me unwind for a second. All right, got it.’
‘This is the best you could get on a multimillion-dollar budget?’ whispered Mort.
‘The first four cancelled,’ whispered back Lily. ‘I had to get this one from Celebrant City. She doesn’t believe in currency, so I had to pay her in Phish tickets. And Ben & Jerry’s Phish Food ice-cream. She also doesn’t believe in the restrictions of temporality, so we’re lucky she’s here on the right day. And mostly the right time.’
Mort chuckled. ‘I don’t know how you do it.’
‘With flair,’ said Lily, with a wink.
‘No arguments here,’ said Mort appreciatively.
Lily beamed. ‘Rightly so.’
‘Wonderful souls!’ shouted Rainbow Soleil.
‘Eh?’ shouted an old guy dressed like the Monopoly Man. (Given the blood-diamond-studded guest list, it might have in fact been the Monopoly Man.)
‘She also doesn’t believe in microphones,’ added Lily. ‘It’s a wonder I got her to wear the earpiece.’
‘We are here today to bring together these two entities of solidified stardust into one unbreakable union,’ bellowed Rainbow Soleil, her voice cracking.
‘Bah, unions!’ huffed Monopoly Man.
‘Now, each of you have in your lap a vessel of fine silt sourced from two asteroids that passed each other in space. When the couple speaks their vows, I want you to combine jars, forging the space dust into one single meteor. Because this is a love that burns bright.’
‘Oh shit,’ said Lily. ‘Rainbow,’ she said over the walkie-talkie, ‘we scrubbed the asteroids idea. We’re doing toothpastes instead. One blue and white bright stripe on a single toothpaste brush.’
Mort snorted.
‘Last-minute decision from marketing,’ explained Lily.
Rainbow Soleil communicated this to the crowd, who awkwardly dug about for the bespoke toothpaste tubes under their chairs and squeezed as directed.
‘Minty fresh,’ observed Reba.
Once everyone was awkwardly holding a toothbrush, Lily gave Rainbow Soleil the thumbs up to proceed with the ceremony. ‘Now, the couple have written their own vows. Desmond, would you like to share your love for Venus with your favourite people in the world?’
Desmond, who’d been talking into a pair of smart glasses that he’d pulled out from an inner jacket pocket, looked up, startled. ‘Rich, can you hold? I’m at an all-hands meeting.’ He pressed a button on the glasses frame, then blinked as his vision adjusted. ‘Thanks, all, for coming out today. I know we’re all busy, so I won’t keep you long.’
Lily grimaced. Were these wedding vows, or a speech for a quarterly investor meeting?
‘When I met Venus, I knew she represented some epic ROI. Our families have been competitors. Allies. Co-sponsors of some great legislation. And together we’re going to keep up that growth. Here’s to a dental hygiene empire.’ He clasped his hands over his head like he’d just kicked the winning goal in a soccer match. Or like he was the owner of the team who’d kicked said goal.
The crowd clapped politely. Gracie circled with her camera, doing her best to find a modicum of love and romance in this decidedly business-like affair. Lily cast her gaze to the sky and tried to place a wish upon each of the fluffy clouds that residedthere. She’d worked so hard to make this event perfect. And itwas. Everything about it: the rainbow beanbags. The huge field. The floral arch and cleverly decorated trees. The folk band composed entirely of nepo babies. The tie-dyed tents that made for a hippie hobbit experience. The asteroid she’d had ground down by the Smithsonian that now sat uselessly in baggies under the chairs and which hopefully nobody would take it upon themselves to snort.
Everything except the romance between Desmond and Venus.
‘If you have any questions or comments, my girl Kiki in marketing will sort you out,’ said Desmond, miming shooting a basketball from the three-point line. ‘Shout-out to Kiki.’
A young woman in a chiffon romper sitting primly in a beanbag as she typed away on three different iPads held up a hand. ‘My “out of office” is on,’ she said. ‘But not really.’
‘Wow,’ said Mort, whose eyebrows said it all. ‘Was“for immediate release”written at the top of that speech?’
‘I think he was reading it off his smart glasses,’ whispered Lily. ‘My guess is that Kiki was writing it as he was reading it.’
