Holly's Heart Collection One (59 page)
I swallowed hard. This was supposed to be Mom’s special day. A day to remember.
She’ll remember, all right.
I looked at my watch. Time to line up.
In the hallway, I noticed Billy Hill, dressed up as never before. I’d invited everyone from the church youth group, but I was surprised to see him here, especially since he’d been avoiding Andie and me ever since he learned of her interest in Stan. He smiled as I walked past him toward the foyer of the church.
Mom stood nearby, just outside the double doors leading to the sanctuary. She held a bouquet of miniature sunflowers, and there was a matching floral bouquet near the altar.
She let out a tiny high-pitched squeak, seeing our dresses for the first time. Her hand flew to her mouth as she stared at us in horror.
The matron of honor, wearing honey gold, attempted to stifle a giggle. So did Carrie. Soon, Mom was holding her sides, laughing. It was a good thing the organ swelled to a loud crescendo right then. That was our cue.
I made my way down the aisle between the pews decorated with wildflowers displaying the brilliant shades of autumn. I was next. I thought of tossing away my clashing flowers, but I definitely needed something to hold on to as I walked down the aisle.
A gentle wave of snickers crisscrossed the church as guests viewed the peculiar color combination. I cringed. This was all my fault. So much for the perfect wedding.
Halfway down the aisle, I winced. There sat Kayla Miller, wearing a dress exactly like mine! Exclusive, one of a kind deal? Yeah, right. I held my breath to keep from crying.
On the bride’s side of the church sat Danny with his parents. He was more than handsome in his brown dress pants and tan dress shirt. When he smiled, I knew we were still friends in spite of everything.
Two rows ahead of Danny sat Jared with Paula Miller. He looked amazing in a dark suit. But
she
was wearing
another
dress just like mine. My legs felt rubbery as I made my way to the front of the church.
This was outrageous. I wanted to hide under the altar. Instead, I took my place beside a large floral bouquet, turning to face the crowd.
Out there, in a sea of faces, Paula was grinning up at Jared. And what was he doing? Smiling right back at her. It was the last day of the scrutiny test, and he’d completely blown it.
THE TROUBLE WITH WEDDINGS
In a total state of panic, I watched Carrie walk down the aisle. Behind her came little Stephie, with Goofey on a leash. A not-sosoft stream of laughter rippled through the crowd as they crept to the altar.
At last all eyes were on my mother as the organ swelled with the familiar wedding hymn. She wore the sweetest smile in the world, and I saw Uncle Jack’s gaze meet hers, never once taking his eyes off the radiant bride. Stan, the best man, and Phil and Mark stood at rapt attention.
“Dearly beloved,” the minister began as Mom took Uncle Jack’s arm at the altar.
A quick glance at Goofey made me shudder. He was curled up on the groom’s shiny black shoes. Uncle Jack pinched his nose closed with his right hand, stifling a sneeze. He searched first one pocket then another for a handkerchief.
Oh great
, I thought,
he’s forgotten to take his allergy pills.
Mom looked concerned, but Uncle Jack blew his nose and smiled. The ceremony continued.
Mark stood quieter than I’d ever seen him. Then I noticed he’d locked his knees. Mom had warned all of us at rehearsal, “Keep your knees slightly bent during the ceremony. Don’t forget.”
It was obvious Mark had forgotten.
While the vocalist sang “The Lord’s Prayer,” Mom and Uncle Jack bowed their heads, holding hands. Seeing them together like this gave me a warm feeling inside, even in spite of the clashing dresses and fall bouquets…and the cat’s presence at the wedding altar. And in spite of Jared sitting with Paula.
Just as the vocalist finished his last, long amen, Mark silently slumped to the platform. He must’ve blacked out. Mom gasped, and in a second, Stan scooped him up and carried him out. Uncle Jack remained calm and reassured Mom with a playful wink.
What else can go wrong?
I swallowed hard, wishing this wedding were over.
The most solemn moment of the ceremony was about to begin—the repeating of the vows. Uncle Jack blew his nose for the second time.
When the minister asked, “Do you, Jack Patterson, take Susan Meredith to be your lawfully wedded wife?” Uncle Jack opened his mouth to say “I do,” but “Ah-ah, I, uh,
ah-choo
!” came out.
The guests applauded. The perfect wedding was turning into a three-ring circus.
Three rings are better than none,
I thought as the latest problem presented itself. Stan was outside with Mark, and he had the ring!
“What token of love do you wish to present to your bride?” the minister asked.
Uncle Jack reached into his coat pocket. Then both pants pockets. I saw the twinkle in his eye. Was he trying to fool the audience? He shrugged his shoulders…no ring. Then, ever so slowly, he reached up behind Mom’s ear and with a grand flourish produced a cereal-box ring.
The guests burst into applause again. Things quieted down soon enough while Uncle Jack placed the fake ring on Mom’s finger, slightly above her elegant diamond.
They kissed longer than ever before. Finally the minister pre- sented them as Mr. and Mrs. Jack and Susan Patterson. The soulful strains of the recessional began.
Goofey refused to be led on his leash, so I handed my bouquet to Phil and reached down and carried the cat down what seemed to be the longest church aisle in history. The minute my feet touched the foyer, I raced to the ladies’ room. Goofey hid under a chair in the waiting area of the posh rest room. “That’s where you belong,” I whispered to him.
Andie showed up in a flash. “That was the coolest wedding,” she announced.
I stared at her in disbelief. “How can you say that?”
“Because it was.”
Kayla Miller came in, minus her usual grin, and glared at my dress. “My sister and I were told by the store manager that these were the only dresses like this in Denver.”
“Denver? You drove all the way
there
?” I said.
She nodded.
“No wonder,” I muttered, pulling on my braid.
“Hey, don’t let it bug you,” Andie said. “You’re so lucky, Holly. Your uncle Jack is one of the sweetest guys around.”
Kayla agreed. “Did you see how he pulled that crazy ring out of her mom’s ear?”
That’s all they could talk about—the wacky wedding. I slipped out of the rest room when they weren’t looking. The stress was making me hungry. Besides, I had to know what Jared was doing showing up with Paula Miller on his final day of the scrutiny test.
Heading for the reception hall, I hoped to sneak a snack. Mr. Ross, my science teacher, was working in the kitchen. Then Miss Wannamaker, my creative writing teacher, came around the corner, carrying punch glasses. Was this for real?
“Oh, hello there, Miss Holly,” Mr. Ross said, spying me. “What can I do for you, young lady?”
“Oh, nothing,” I said, sitting down, feeling dizzy.
“Look. She’s exhausted,” Miss W said, bringing a tray of hors d’oeuvres around.
“Did you have a good breakfast today?” Mr. Ross asked.
I remembered vaguely some juice and toast early this morning. I nodded. Didn’t want him to think I’d been neglected. Not on Mom’s wedding day, for pete’s sake.
Looking up at Mr. Ross, I noticed his hot-pink tie. Something was up! Mr. Ross owned only one tie that I knew of: The one he wore every single day of his life. Then I noticed his smudgy glasses were missing. He was wearing contacts, too. I looked from Mr. Ross to Miss W. They were smiling at each other, oblivious to me. So
that
was it. Mr. Ross was in love.
I took a bite of a cracker.
Behind me, I heard someone say my name. When I turned, I saw that it was Jared.
“Hey,” he said, sitting beside me. “Some wedding.”
“Yeah,” I whispered.
“I hope ours is half as much fun.” He winked at me.
I blushed. “You can’t be serious.”
“We have more in common than I thought.” He pulled the first issue of
Sealed With a Kiss
out of his pocket. “You are
some
writer, Holly.”
“Where’d you get this?” I asked, puzzled about the magazine.
He flipped through and located my story without saying a word.
There it was, in print: “Love Times Two.”
“Wow, I’m published.” My name was just under the title in medium-sized letters. I read halfway through before stopping.
“How’s it feel?” he asked.
“Fabulous.”
“Are you ready for this?” He turned the page.
I studied the two-page spread. It was a story called “Love Minus One.” The author’s name was Janeen Williams. I’d never heard of her.
“How do you like my new pen name?” he said with a grin.
I looked at him, frowning. “You’ve got to be kidding. Did you really write this?”
“I wouldn’t lie to you.”
“Jared, you’re crazy.”
He was still smiling. “Let’s collaborate.”
“On a story?” I looked into his mischievous face.
“You figure it out,” he said as the rest of the wedding party made its appearance.
“Not till you explain some things first.”
“Such as?” he said.
“Why was Paula sitting with you during the wedding?”
“Oh that.” He scratched his head. “It was Paula’s idea. She came in and sat down. When I started to get up and leave, my dad gave me the evil eye…and you know the rest.”
Silly me, I believed him. “Well, as far as I’m concerned, Jared, you’ve passed STAN with flying colors. Whenever you want to start acting like your former self
all
the time—”
“If you don’t mind, I think I’ll carry on as is,” he interrupted me, straightening his tie.
I gasped. “What did you just say, Jared?”
He stared blankly, trying to act innocent.
“Jared, what you just said…that was a direct quote from my story on metamorphosis for Miss Wannamaker’s class.”
He looked sheepish. “Uh, yeah, I guess it was.”
“What’s going on?” I demanded.
He began to tell about the day he’d snooped in my locker. “I noticed your locker door hanging open—and your essay was right there. That’s when I got the idea to change myself. Exactly the way you wrote it in your assignment.”
“Which explains why the pages were out of order. You rat!” Andie was right about one thing. I
had
created a monster. “Jared,” I stated simply, “STAN’s over now. You can cut the serious routine any time. Please?”
“Okay, Holly-Heart, how’s this?” he said, offering his arm.
“Much better,” I whispered, slipping my hand through the bend in his elbow as he escorted me to the receiving line. Then, with a wink, he stepped back into the crowd. I could only hope the scrutiny test monster was gone forever.
I took my place in the family lineup for the formal wedding photographs. Uncle Jack held the bride’s hand as the camera clicked. I’d never seen such love sparkles in Mom’s eyes. Perfect or not, this
was
a day to remember.
I smiled for the camera, but deep inside I worried, just a little, about having to share my room with two young snoopers, and about trying to survive with three
boys
living in my house.
That’s the trouble with weddings. You don’t know exactly how things are going to work out, but you hope—with all your heart—that it’s very close to
and they all lived happily ever after.
To
Lori Walburg VandenBosch,
my very first editor
and dear friend.
CALIFORNIA CRAZY
Happily ever after? Right!
I thought as I locked the upstairs bathroom door. Two weeks ago, Mom had married Uncle Jack, and our perfectly peaceful surroundings changed overnight. Now my boy cousins—Stan, Phil, and Mark—were brousins, as in cousins-turned-stepbrothers. What a shock adding three boys to an all-girl household! To top it off, their seven-year-old sister, Stephie, was a spoiled brat and the biggest little snoop around.
I stared at the bathroom mirror, furiously brushing my hair. Our house on Downhill Court—the house Daddy had built—was now crawling with people. Stan, fifteen, had claimed the queen-sized sofa bed in the family room. Phil, ten, and Mark, eight, had invaded Carrie’s bedroom, forcing me to share my room with two super snoopers: Carrie, nine, and Stephie, also known as the “baby” of our newly blended family.
Mom and Uncle Jack were the only ones who didn’t seem to mind the crowded conditions. In the time it took for them to say “I do,” my life had been altered forever!
“Holly!” Carrie pounded on the bathroom door. “Hurry up!”
“Hey, I just got in here,” I yelled through the door.
“Did not,” she called back. “You’ve been hogging the bathroom all morning.”
Hmm,
I thought.
Carrie’s acting more like Stephie every day. Annoying!
I sighed and ignored the banging. Not only was the house overrun with zillions of people, my bedroom was now cluttered with personal belongings times three! And to top it off, my window seat was practically defunct—at least for quiet times and journal writing. Its latest function was to serve as Stephie’s bed. Pillows, stuffed animals, and blankets were piled up in both corners of my beloved spot. Carrie’s bed was a fold-up cot, stashed in a corner of the room during the daytime.
