Alien in the Family

customs, but marriages are a huge deal for us. Mate for life, remember? We do them big, we do them expansively, and we do them with gusto. Huh?” I heard him talking to someone else in the background. Martini started to laugh. “To reassure you and your father, no, this wedding is not going to cause me or my family to go bankrupt. Is that what you’re worried about?”
    “A little.” A lot.
    “Been saving for it for years. Now, stop worrying, and enjoy yourself. Because if you don’t, then that’s a waste of the money.”
    He was good, and he was right. We hung up, and I decided to be a good girl and enjoy the heck out of this. Wasn’t too hard, I liked food, and this was good food. The luncheon lasted around three hours, which was nice because it was three hours I didn’t have to run to do something else. But, finally, it was time to head back and start getting ready for the actual wedding itself.
    It was a blur of activity. Had to get the dresses and everything else. People had to run back for all the things forgotten the first time. And the second time. The paparazzi had to be removed again. And again.
    The Mandalay Bay had a nice set up, and we were all installed into the various locations within it—women’s dressing room, men’s dressing room, and foyer for those involved but not intimately. The majority of our guests were being routed to the actual room where we were getting married. I caught a glimpse of Martini, but Serene dragged me around a corner so no unauthorized sightings were committed.
    The A-C side of my wedding party had spent most of lunch explaining the ceremony to me. I’d already researched it and gone over issues with Richard, but we hadn’t had time to rehearse what, in fact, I was supposed to do once things started.
    By A-C custom, if both parents were living, both parents gave you to your intended. I thought this was a nice custom. I wasn’t clear on the giving, but Mom assured me that Lucinda had given her the skinny on what to do, so I stopped worrying.
    Denise Lewis ran in. “We have a ring-bearer emergency.”
    “What happened?” twelve women asked in unison. Yes, the unison thing was definitely wedding-related.
    “Jeff’s nephew, George, has come down with some typical childhood ailment. None of the other Martini boys are old enough or young enough, at least according to James.”
    Much consternation ensued. By A-C tradition, the ring bearer kept the rings secure and hidden until they were requested, usually in a suit pocket somewhere, so no pillow or ring basket or whatever was required, making it a fairly simple job. As far as the A-Cs were concerned, anyone could bear the rings and anyone could toss the flower petals, with no age restrictions.
    Of course, Reader was representing the human view that said ring bearers and flower girls needed to be adorable moppets. I was fine with this, but whatever George had, I didn’t want, nor did I want him sharing the contents of his stomach with us, right moppet age or not.
    “Could Kimmie carry the rings, too?” This was met with dead silence. “Or another girl?” More dead silence. “Okeydokey. That’s a big no.” I looked back to Denise. “You have two, right?”
    “One boy, one girl.”
    “Is your son the right age?”
    “Well, yes, but, we’re not family.”
    Lucinda and Mom both snorted. “Yes, you are.” The unison thing again. It never stopped being creepy.
    “I think he’s elected. Stress James out, get him into a tux.”
    “Raymond should fit into George’s. Do you want me to send him in so you can recognize him?”
    My turn to snort. “He’ll be the incredibly gorgeous kid with perfect teeth and bags of charisma, right?”
    Denise smiled. “Just like his father.”
    “And mother. So, yeah, I think I’ll be able to spot him, even with all the A-C gorgeous around. So, let him stay with the men and be all manly like. Besides, Kevin’s a groomsman, so it’s all good.”
    Denise hugged me, then raced out to share the problem solve. Jeff’s sister Marianne brought Kimmie in now. She looked gorgeous in a little girl version of what the bridesmaids were wearing, but with the colors reversed.
    The florist arrived, Reader in tow, and more bedlam ensued. The flowers were gorgeous—my bouquet was all red roses with two white roses in the center. The girls were each carrying smaller versions, and Kimmie had a basket with red and white rose petals to scatter. The men’s boutonnières were white