I laugh, pleased at our bizarre little family. “Where are we going?” I ask, grinning at Janeen. I know she’s got something planned – she’s been too sneaky for days.
“Home,” she says, innocent.
I just laugh, ducking into the car and letting her take the reins. But then, as we hit the highway and actually head back to the beach, I twist in my seat to stare at her.
“Seriously?!” I gasp. “We’re just going home?!”
“Where did you think we were going?” she asks, turning her head curiously.
“I don’t know!” I say, gasping suddenly with sadness. “But it’s my wedding day! I can’t believe you didn’t plan anything!”
“Your fake wedding day!” she insists, laughing. “To your gay ex-boyfriend! Whose actual boyfriend is right there!” she continues, pointing to him in the driver’s seat. Jerome gives us a little thumbs-up as Daniel laughs next to me.
I pout, crossing my arms over my little white wedding dress which only goes to my knees. “First you make me sit in the middle seat, on my wedding day,” I grumble, “and now I don’t even get a reception?”
“Sorry, baby,” Janeen says with a sigh, grinning at me. “I’m saving the good stuff for your next husband.”
The rest of the car ride home is a cheerful one, I think all of us wanting to take a day to ignore the realities of our life and just…have a good time. Dad is laughing hardest of all of us, telling stories about his own two weddings (to Janeen’s mom, and then mine) that have us all rolling as we pull into the driveway.
I’m thoroughly cheerful, if not a little tired, when I climb out of the car and head to the door.
But as I walk to the house, someone grabs my hand.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Daniel asks, pulling me back to him with a smile.
“What?” I ask, confused. “Insi…” but then, as I look at Janeen and Jerome grinning on either side of him, I gasp with delight.
“You did!” I shout, throwing my hands up in the air. “You did plan a surprise reception! You did!”
They all burst out laughing then and I smack each of them on the chest in turn for teasing me like that. And then a taxi pulls up to the driveway, beeping twice as my dad waves from the door of the house.
“You’re not coming?” I call to him, my face falling.
“You know me,” he calls back, waving as he turns into the house. “Two beers and I’m done. I’ll keep the house warm for when ya come back.”
“Hey Lippert,” someone says from over in the TV corner.
Slowly, Kent lifts his head.
“Ain’t that your kid?” The man gestures towards the TV where the image shows a tall dark-haired young man coming out of city hall holding the hand of a red-haired girl. Text rolls across the screen.
Son of disgraced mafia don Kent Lippert gets married in civil ceremony today. His bride, rumored daughter of the famous Alden mafia family, is two months pregnant with…
Kent watches passively for a moment until he sees Daniel take Fay in his arms, leaning close, bringing his face to hers.
And then Kent looks away.
“Hey?” the guy asks again, more forcefully this time. “Ain’t that your kid?”
But Kent doesn’t reply. Instead, he turns his attention back to his hands, shaking his head a little.
“Couldn’t even marry her properly, in a church,” he mutters, clenching his jaw. “At the very least, he could have gotten that right…”
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