Alien in the Family

better qualified for it.”
    Yeah, Uncle Mort loved Chuckie. Pushed back the twinges of guilt. Uncle Mort loved Martini, too.
    “No need to rush,” Chuckie added, slowing me down a little. “Believe me, from what White told me, we’ve got an easy thirty more minutes to kill.”
    Conveniently, most of the wedding ceremony took place without the wedding party, which was one of the many little quirks that made marrying an A-C fun to explain to the human relatives.
    Once Dad had sent my grandmothers off, they and the rest of the guests had done some weird ritualistic seating rigmarole that involved a lot of walking in between a variety of blessings. I hadn’t been able to see this in my mind’s eye no matter how many different ways it had been explained to me. I was going to remain in the dark, since it had been over for at least fifteen minutes.
    Now they were on to the Statements of Fidelity, which a human would think should come from the two people about to be married, from the clergy officiating, or even from someone in the bridal party, but, instead, came from random people sitting in the audience. Per the little I’d gleaned, this was to ensure the entire community would be focused on the couple’s lifelong happiness. Per what I’d guessed from reading between the lines, it was a great way to make the less beloved relatives and those friends who hadn’t scored a place up at the head table a chance to feel deeply involved.
    Bizarrely but happily, only the groom and his parents had the “privilege” of hearing these little speeches. Again, no guess as to why, but I had to assume it was because everyone knew the bride was going to take longer to get ready. Or they wanted to give the groom plenty of time to run screaming into the street. Pushed back the little twinge of panic. Martini wasn’t going to run off. Right?
    It was quite a hike, and while we got some looks, not the kind we could have. All the Animal Planet attendees had been wearing and continued to wear their cloaking jewelry. Chuckie had requested it, but no one had objected, if only to make the pictures easier to explain. Considering who our official photographer was and that there were undoubtedly other random paparazzi lurking somewhere, it was a brilliant order.
    We finally arrived outside Islander and laid eyes on all the guys. They looked wonderful. Bored, but wonderful. Everyone paired off, and then we waited while the Statements of Fidelity droned on. Chuckie had the unenviable task of being the only one allowed to listen—he had the door cracked and was stuck to it.
    “Glad I have the right career for this,” he muttered while the rest of us fidgeted and my father quietly went over what Kimmie and Raymond were supposed to do. “I think they’re winding down. White, what’s the most likely word cue from your father?”
    “We ask you now to join hands for the final preblessing,” Christopher replied.
    Chuckie sighed. “Haven’t heard that yet.” We waited another ten minutes then he nodded. “Finally. Okay, everyone ready?”
    There were assents from my wedding party. We lined up, and Chuckie opened the door. Alexander and Serene were first, followed by Queen Renata and Kevin, Felicia and Tim, Wahoa and Jerry, Gower and Claudia, Reader and Lorraine, with Christopher and Jareen going last.
    Mom and Dad were on either side of me, but I was clutching Kimmie, who was holding a basket almost bigger than she was loaded with rose petals. She was also so excited she was ready to run down the aisle. I had a sudden death grip on her, though, so she wasn’t going anywhere.
    Mom was holding onto Raymond for the same reason, well, to keep him from racing off. Unlike me, Mom was cool as an igloo. Raymond looked just as I’d imagined a child of Kevin and Denise’s would, though his skin was more of a creamy brown, versus the dark chocolate of his father or fair of his mother. He was five and was already more charming than men twenty years his senior. He also took the guarding of the rings as a serious duty and had his hand in one pocket, where the rings were, I assumed, to ensure they weren’t lost.
    Dad spent some more time going over their duties with them, though, and they seemed clear. He had time—both ballrooms were beautiful, and while Islander was about threequarters the size of South Pacific they were both huge. A-C tradition required the wedding party walk down the aisle, the men going to the left and the women to the right,