Wats goin on ppl??? sorry i havent updated n e of my stories in a while but soo much has been going thru my life n i was stressin to the point where I actually got physically sick. So yeah, plz accept my o-so-nice apology. Btw ppl were askin me wat in this story is original, and well, nothing is lol I jus thought i'd share this story with ya and change the characters up a bit. :D again EVERYTHING cept CCS characters belgons to Cara Lockwood! I just added my lil sugar n spice to it thats all ;)
"Get over here right now or I swear I'm going to eat this entire gallon of rocky road."
The hysterical voice on the other end of my cell phone belonged to Tomoyo, my best friend since ninth grade, who happened to be getting married in four weeks and was a complete wreck. She had asked me to be her maid of honor (in other words, to be a wedding planner for free). But I owed her ( in brief summary: four messy breakups, one false pregnancy test, one semi-eating/dieting disorder) so I really couldn't say I minded. Besides, I wasn't looking forward to telling Ruby that I had gone and met with Mei Lin without her, and I also wasn't feeling up to the task of tackling Mei Lin's freakishly overstuffed file case. So, I put them in my trunk and tried to forget they were there.
When I arrived at Tomoyo's apartment, she was sitting in the middle of the floor surrounded by open bridal magazines, and as usual, things in her life were chaos. To give you a bit of a background on Tomoyo, she's one of the truly sweetest people I've ever known and because of this she has a history of people taking advantage of her. Take her fiance, for example. I didn't like him. For one thing, he reminded me of one of my ex's (ew), but then again every man I don't like reminds me of an ex...Seriously, I thought Eriol, her fiance, was, how to put this delicately...a pig. The evidenec: 1. He went to strip clubs with his friends every Friday night. 2. He told Tomoyo she was fat.3. He walked around their apartment wearing only his boxers...while I was there! Ok, he was a good looking guy and everything but there is no need for ME to see that. I honestly had to almost bleach my eyes.
I had fought with Tomoyo about him in the past, and had begged her to break up with him, but she wouldn't have it. In fact, the whole argument had almost tanked our friendship, so I'd promised her to try to like him, ( key word try), and to be happy for her because all she really wanted was to marry Eriol and be happy. So I stopped talking badly about him and I'd done what any best friend would do in that situation: wish for his untimely death. I rather thought a stroke of lightening had a nice ring to it, or sudden and deadly cardiad arrest. Something that wouldn't endanger anybody else, just him, so no worries people I wasn't really a horrible person.
"I am so fat," Tomoyo said, slapping her hand against her thin, StairMastered-to-death thigh.
"What are you talking about? You aren't fat. If your fat, then I'm horribly obese."
Tomoyo smiled unconvinced. "Eriol said I could lose a few pounds off my butt."
"Eriol is a..." I was about to say "pig" but caught myself in time. "Er, you aren't fat. And if you lost anything from your butt you'd have two nasty pelvic bones sticking out of your jeans. Very unattractive."
"I'm being a psycho bride, aren't I?"
"It happens to the best of us."
It's common knowledge that the worse part of a wedding planners is dealing with psycho brides, or PBs, not to be confused with PBMs (perpedtual bridesmaids). Psycho brides are people who completely lose touch with reality and perspective during the wedding planning and wedding event.Of course every women experiences a certain amount of stress and craziness during the planning of her own wedding's. PBs however, take that anxiety to a whole new level. The sneaky thing about them is that they masquerade as perfectly nice and well adjusted human beings, until they get engaged and begin planning their weddings. There's just something about weddings that can turn reasonably, perfectly normal women into fork-toungued, head-spinning she-devils. The signs of a PB are simple. You know you're one if:
1. You demand of bridemaids that they peform fantastic tasks in the name of friendship, including, but not limited to: plastic surgery, abortion, and/or qutting job to help full-time with wedding planning.
2.When bridemaids refuse requests, you burst into tears and scream, "It's supposed to be my day!"
3. You often go around bursting into tears and screaming, "It's supposed to be my day!"
4. Your incapable of talking about anything except your own wedding, even at the most inappropriate times, such as funerals or wakes.
5. You have an unreasonable paranoia that everyone who cares about you is out to ruin your wedding day.
6. You have a reasonable paranoia that everybody who hates you also is out to ruin your wedding day.
7. Your obesseion about weight leads you to ask everyone involved in the wedding, including your seventy-year-old grandmother, to lose five pounds.
8. Despite millions of wedding ceremonies, you believe that no one before you has ever planned and successfully executed a wedding, and that you are the only person on the planet to make the weighty decision of hiring a caterer.
9. You don't care anything about the groom (Groom? Who's he? Who cares?), because you are caught up in the elaborate, self-indulgent orchestration of your own girlhood fantasies.
10. You forgot ( or never understood) that a wedding is supposed to be the celebrationof a serious, long-term commitment between two people, and not a stage to show off your friends ( and enemies) how fabulous you look in a satin teffeta and a rhinestone tiara.
Now I don't think I could ever imagine Tomoyo turning into a PB but weddings do strange things to usually normal people. Not that Tomoyo was completely normal to begin with...
"Tomoyo, you look gorgeous," I said. "You don't have anything to worry about, because for one thing, you'll be standing next to me, and I'll make you look twenty pounds thinner."
Tomoyo rolled her eyes. "I don't want to hear another word about you being fat. You so aren't fat."
But Tomoyo was smiling, so I could tell I had made her feel better, and that's really the number-one respsonsiblity of a maid of honor.
I was bummed out at the thought of going back to the office, because I would have to explain to Ruby about the meeting with Mei Lin, and Ruby tends to ask questions nonstop, interrupting you in midsentence of your answer so you really never got to explain much of anything.So, after leaving Tomoyo in a happier mood, I stopped by the drugstore to pick up a new lipgloss ( because it's known to women everywhere that finding that perfect shade of lipgloss will change your whole life forever, really its true). I also picked up my dry cleaning ) which shows you how much I didn't want to go back to the office because I never pick it up unless i have NOTHING to wear in my closet).
When I got back to the office Ruby was waiting for me impaitently. Meh, typical.
"Where have you been, Ms. Kinomoto?" Ruby bellowed down the stairs as soon as the door closed behind me. It was obvious she was pissed, because she never used formal titles with me. "Your phone has been rinhing off the hook!"
"Meeting with clients," I shouted, which was mostly the truth. "Let me check my voice mail and I'll come right up."
There were four messages for me, and two of them were from Alyssa Darvis-a really spoiled twenty year old who wasn't getting married for another five years, but still felt the need to call me all the time. One was from my mom, and the other was from my brother, Touya, who never called unless he needed money ( being an expert in begging and puppydog faces, he took turns asking family members for the loans, and I guess I must have been next on rotation). Reluctantly, I trudged up the stairs to face Ruby.
When I got there she was acting uncharacteristically unlike herself, avoiding eye contact.
"Ms. Davenport, as you know, is an old friend." Ruby cleared her throat. Was she nervous? "I wan't us to do what we can to help her niece."
I blinked. Was Ruby still embarrassed about this morning? Ruby arranged some papers on her desk, still not looking at me
"I think it would be best if you took a leadership role with this one," Ruby continued."I don't think I need to meet with Mei Lin Rae. I'm just swamped this week and anyway it will be a good growth poprtunity for you."
Swamped? I thought, With what? Had she fallen behind on her reading Cat Fancy magazines?
"I understand," I said, relieved. Now I didn't have to explain about the meeting with Mei Lin at all! Ten points for me! Or the fact that the wedding was about a month away, another ten points! Oh wait, I forgot, thats bad. But if you think about it good since Ruby, wouldn't know about it!
Hmmmmm, hold on a sec. I wondered suddenly what sort of horrible thing would happen in the near future to knock my good luck away. I am not a lucky person, as a rule. Good luck only happens when something really bad is waiting around the corner.In this case, I thought that the something really bad was the second gift Kero left for me underneath my desk. Distracted by my near miss with Ruby, I actually stepped in it, probably ruining my favorite pair of high heeled boots.
It was obvious I needed to go home. It was almost four, and I had two weddings on Saturday I had to mentally prepare for, and, besides, I'd already done about a thousand overtime hours this month alone. ( Does is sound like I'm making exscuses? I am.)
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"Sakura, is that you? My, you are home early. Are you sick?" This was my mother, who had called my house just as I walked in the door.
"Hi, mom. I'm not sick, I'm just home early."
"Early? Were you...what do they call it...laid off?"
"No, Mom, I just-" Call waiting beeped. "Hold on a second, I've got someone on the other line."
"Hello?" I said.
"Hey," came the deep voice of my older brother.
"I've got Mom on the other line."
"Oh! Don't tell her it's me," Touya said, sounding slightly panicked or slightly high, I couldn't tell which. "I owe her a hundred dollars from last month."
"Okay, but-" Touya hung up before I could finsih. I clicked back over to Mom.
"Mom?"
"So I told your father that..."
"Wait, Mom, I didn't hear the last part, I had another call."
"What was that dear?"
"Another call, You know, call waiting."
"Call what?"
"Never mind."
"So I told your father he better pay for it."
"Pay for what?"
"Your brothers car."
"Whats wrong with it?" I was seriously confused at this point.
Mom sighed irritably. "Didn't you hear a word I said? He's wrecked it again."
I didn't bother to try another explanation of call waiting.
"So it's up to your father..."
Call waiting clicked. "Hold on for a second, Mom, okay?"
I clicked over. A telemarketer wanted to sell me bikini wax that swimsuit models use. I told them that it would tkae more than hot wax to change me into a supermodel.I clicked back.
"Mom?"
"That's the plan at any rate...So, I'll look foreward to seeing you Monday for dinner."
"Huh?"
"A lady says hmmm or what but not huh, dear...Fujitaka!" She shouted at my father in the background. "Leave that pie alone! That's for my Womens Club...I'm sorry dear. So, have you found a handsome stranger to marry yet?"
"Mom-" I groaned but was cut off.
"Now Sakura, dear. I want to see my grandchildren before I die you know...Hold on a minute, dear. Fujitaka!" she barked at my dad. "Fujitaka! You're putting crumbs all over the floor. Use a plate for goodness' sakes. Oh, dear, Sakura, I have to go."
And with that she hung up.
For the life of me, I could never understand how my parents got together, and still don't to this day. My dad, who's only passion besides digging up old vases and bones and stuff like that, is barbecuing various kinds of dead mammals, shares no common interests with my mom, whose single most passios is perfecting etiqutte. She cherishes her very large collection of Miss Manners books and has never, as far as I know, eaten anything with her fingers. My dad, on the other hand, still tucks the napkin into the collar of his shirt before he eats. Don't get me wrong. I love both my parents, and they love me, and I wouldn't exchange them for any other parents ( at least I don't think I would), but they are after all my parents, which means they drive me crazy.
As far as I can tell, the entire foundation of Mom and Dad''s relationship relies on ignoring everything Mom says, and Mom ignoring everything Dad says. A typical conversation between my parents goes something like this:
Mom: Would you please remove your feet from the coffee table?
Dad: Hmpf.
Mom: Fuji, I said would you please remove your feet from my coffee table?
Dad: Hmpf.
Mom: FUJITAKA!
Dad: What?
Mom: Your feet!
Dad: Huh?
Mom:Your feet are on the coffee table.
Dad: Uh-huh.
Mom: PLEASE move them!
(Dad moves his feet a bit to the right...he thinks Mom's request has something to do with blocking her view of the t.v)
Mom: NO! Off the coffee table!
Dad: (unintelligible grumble)
Mom: Your shoes are going to scuff the table.
Dad: (Eyes glued on the television and not listening to a single word): Um-hmm.
Mom: FUJITAKA!
Dad: WHAT!
Mom: Your feet!
Dad: Huh?
The conversation goes like this for the next half hour, until Mom gets so frustrated she pushes Dad's feet off the table herself, only to find them in the exact spot another half hour later. My parents have been married for thirty years, and after all this time, my dad still hasn't learned to keep his feet off the table, and Mom has never figuered out that despite the first three hundred attempts, Dad never listens.
My stomach growled loudly, and so I went to the kitchen to look for something to eat. Despite my mother's warnings that I'd never find a man unless I could cook, I never really managed to do so. I know secretly you all think I'm a Martha Stewart, pie baking type, but that's not me at all. For one thing, cooking is entirely too messy and dangerous for me. For another, my rule on cooking is that if it takes longer for me to make than to eat it, I'm not going to make it. That pretty much means my diet is basically frozen dinners, PBJ's and takeout. This night, I found a rather soggy frozen dinner ( I swear those chicken strips weren't chicken at all but some form of space-age, barely digestable plastic) and fell asleep on the couch watching a documentary on the migration og geese on the Discovery channel.
Expected more glamour? Sorry to disappoint. Friday nights before weddings are strcitly at-home affairs.
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The sky was perfectly clear, with only the whispers of white clouds at the horizon's edge. A few ducks skittered across the horizon, some dipping tjeir webbed feet into the calm surface of the lake. A crowd of maybe 150 had gathered on the shore, dressed in their wedding finest, and all craning their necks, eyes fixed on the plane that glided overhead. From the plane, a skydiver, a specj no bigger than a flea, plunged into a heart-stopping free fall. He pulled out a cord on his parachute, which instantly fanned out into a pattern of red and white hearts. ( Just a bit corny). Everyone cheered on the shore.
This was wedding number one of Saturday, and yes, that was the groom jumping from twnety-five hundred feet, dangling from a piece of thin nylon material by a few strings. ( Yeah I know, my knees go all jelly just thinking about it). I saw the bride nervously biting her lower lip. I glanced at the maid of honor who was grimacing, I thought she must think that the groom was a pig like Eriol. (I mean, what other kind of groom but a pig upstages the bride in such an extreme and stupid fashion?)
It made me wonder why I agreed to be the consulant for this wedding, when it was obvious that the kind of consulting they needed, I didn't provide. I tried talking them out of it but the groom was soooo stubborn and refused to budge. And the bride? She just wanted everyone happy and agreed. Great, the one time I need a PB ( Pyscho Bride for those of you who forgot), I don't get one. The groom was so excited that he was using skydiving as a theme they had the words TAKING THE PLUNGE engraved on their invitations. How sad, how very sad. I shuddered thinking about it. I guess it could be worse, I mean, the bride could of wanted to join him, and I don't know of any silk veil made to stand up to 90 miles an hour of high-velocity winds. I could only imagine her hair in the pictures, ha, Bride of Frankenstein.
The unusual entrance of the groom meant that I had to make some interesting additions to the guest list, which was four paramedics and six firefighters, who were all watching the groom's fall with bored expressions on their faces. I'm guessing they saw this kind of thing all the time. The groom was closer now. You could make out the outline of his arms and legs, and if you squinted, the white front of his shirt and the sunlight shining off his goggles. I looked away for a second to make sure that the champagne fountain was still flowing. Suddenly, the bride drew in a sharp breath. I glanced up and found the groom again, and while I don't know a thing about skydiving, I don't think that men attatched to parachutes are supposed to be falling horizontal to the ground.
It's a crosswind," I heard the best man hiss. Whatever is was, it was tossing the groom around like an empty grocery bag.
"Not good. Not good. Not.Good." I panicked not knowing what to do.
He zagged right, then back left, then bounced around in the middle for a few seconds. Several guests on the lawn gasped . Then he began drifting west, about two hundred feet from the ceremony, then again I could be wrong since math and numbers was never my strong point, far from the soft water of the lake and toward the sharp and pointed wooded area of trees. Almost at once, the entire wedding party began sprinting toward the trees, followed by a lot of the guests. The paramedics and the firefighters, who perked up slightly at this new development, tagged behind.
I found myself jogging beside the bride, thankful that I always did long long distance runs in highschool, whose face was a knot of worry. I heard the maid of honor say, " I knew something like this was going to happen!" Funny, that same thought echoed through my head.
I arrived just in time to see the groom smack into the top of a tree with a loud crack ( I hope it wasn't his head), roll sevreal times through the branches ( with lots more snapping and loud popping noises from the breaking tree limbs, well, at least, I hoped they were the branches and not bones), and come to an abrupt stop about a hundred feet from the ground, hanging like puppet from his parachute.
"David!" screamed the bride. "David, are you all right?" There was a brief silence, and then a muffled reply came from the limp, dazed body of the groom that sounded like "I'm fine." But then again, it might also have been "I'm dying."
I looked over to one of the firefighters, who was standing to my left, and saw him shake his head.
"You'd be surprised at how many weddings I've been called to," he told me. The tag pinned to his red suspenders read SYAORAN LI.
"Funny, I haven't seen you at any of my weddings." I mumbled, but then realized how bad that sounded since he probably didn't know what I did for a living.
I looked up at his face, which up until that moment had been hidden behind the shadow of his helmet, and my mouth fell open. He was possibly the most beautiful man I'd ever seen. Of course, I know what your thinking. It doesn't take a lot for a man in a firefighter's uniform to be attractive. I mean, you don't even have to be average looking to be a hunk in those suspenders and those manly oversized coats ( insert sigh filled with longing). But Syaoran Li would have looked incredible in a plumber's jumpsuit, I have no doubt. Yes, he was wearing the navy blue T-shirt that said FIREFIGHTER, worn tight across his considerbly fit chest, which I saw before he swung on the baggy firefighter's coat. He was ferakin' well built, with defined ( but not overly puffed up) muscles in his arms. I put his age somewhere in his mid-twenties. He was tall, or more than a head taller then me, but being about 5'3", I'm not the best judge of height. He had messy chestnutish hair and big brown eyes, and a strong, slightly squared chin.
I closed my mouth just in time not to embarrass myself by drooling.
Luckily, he wasn't my type, or I might be in trouble. He was probably a man-whore, or had an ego the size of a blimp, who'd skated by his whole life on his looks. Aren't all rugged, macho types missing brain cells? You know, nature's way of balancing out things.
I watched him as he made his way back to his fire truck, where his fellow firefighters were already unhinging the long rescue ladder. He directed the other firefighters, as if he were captain of some sort; most of the others seemed ready to take commands from him. Except one: a man who looked remarkably like him in build and features, except for the lazy slope of his hsoulder and the permanent smirk engraved on his face. I knew his kind. A professional heckler, the sort who lived to ruin a perfectly good wedding reception.
"You think you can handle this one, Syao?" he taunted, obviously believing he couldn't. Great, just what I needed a fight between the rescuers. But Syaoran remaind silent.
"Shut up Jay," barked a women with her short cropped hair hitting her chin and glasses, suited up in firefighter gear. She seemed like the meek sort of person, not someone who willingly went into burning buildings while everyone else ran out.
It took half an hour for the firefighters to cut David down from the trees, as the parachute had tangled itself up in many branches, and the harness strap was too taut to unhook easily. In the end, Syaoran Li was the one who dragged the semiconcious groom from the top of the ladder, and by the grunts and groans he made, I guessed the groom was a bit heavier than he looked.
The professional heckler seemed more intent on making life miserable for Syaoran than actually helping, piping up with comments every now and then, including his own babdly performed version of "Here comes the bride." I was begining to feel sorry for Syaoran Li.
It was about that time that the first media camera crew showed up. It took me a minute to realize that they weren't the wedding video men ( the size of the camera's and the fact they thaty didn't have a seperate sound person clued me in). The news cameraman swung his camera to his shoulder just in time to record the comical picture of the rather pale-looking groom being held in the large and well muscled arms of the firefighter.
Once Syaoran realized he was being filmed, he gave a celebrity-worty scowl to the camera (Which didn't take anything away from his good looks, I might add, as it gave him the look of a bad boy. Mmmmm. Bad Boy Firefighters. That sounded like a hunk calender, I ever saw one.) Syaoran Li declined to comment the reporter who kept chirping questions (like "Is this your first rescue of a groom?" and "He look sheavy! Is he heavy?") Syaoran's face flushed red, as Jay barked out an obnoxious laugh. The groom was helped to a waiting ambulance, and the reporter, a short, dark-haired women with a bright, white smile filled with too-big teeth, made a direct line for the bride, who looked shocked out of her mind. I got in the way just in time.
"My name is Sakura Kinomoto, " I said smiling. "I'm the wedding planner for this wedding and I think perhaps the bride needs a few minutes of recovery before she's asked any questions." I was very proud of myself that I sounded so offical and calm.
The reporter, however, just blinked at me, then nudged the cameraman to her right, who swiveled the camera around, turned the lens on me, and flicked the camera's light on. I was blinded at this point. I can now understand why so many people looked shifty in the six-o'clock news. How could you do anything but squint with that kind og wattage in your eyes?
"Marissa Murray for Channel 36 News. You were responsible for planning this wedding?" Uh oh, I didn't like where this was going.
"Yes," I said putting up a hand to shade my eyes from the light.
"What went wrong here today?"
"Uh, I believe the wind carried the groom a little farther than expected." Pfft, no duh.
"Is he hurt?"
"I don't think he's seriously injured, but the paramedics are looking at him now."
"Are these kind of wedding stunts becoming more common Ms. Kinomoto?" I paused.
"I'm not sureif you could say they're becoming more comon. I think most people want their weddings unique, but that doesn't mean you have to jump out of a plane."
"So you don't approve of grooms jumping out of planes?" No shit lady, enough with the questions already.
"Well," I said trying to choose my words carefully. " I think you always have to weigh the risks of having something like this happen to your weddings. I don't think most people give it enough thought. But the groom was an experienced skydiver, and I suppose sometimes, these things happen. Kablam!" I said laughing nervously. I'm an idiot. "Ahem, luckily though, it appears no one was hurt." It was then the groom wandered by, looking a little dazed, and the reporter grabbed him and began asking him a dozen questions.
It was pretty crazy after that, and it took me another twenty minutes steer everyone back ot the ceremony area, where the bride and groom assured they wanted to contiue the wedding. It was a beautiful ceremony although the groom's hair was messed up and his shirt torn a bit, and the fact that he looked as if he had fallen a thousand feet into a thick cluster of trees. I gave the paramedics and firefighters some cake along with my thanks. I didn't give the camera crew any, but they took some anyway.
Ruby called me on my cell phone to ask how everything was going, and I was forced to tell her a little about the parachute incident out of pure fear or the women. "Didn't I tell you about wind shear?" she said, tsk-tsking me. I hadn'tt realized that understanding wind patterns was part of a wedding planners job. I mentioned the media crew and interview and Ruby immeditaly brightened. "Did you mention Forever Wedding? Did you give our contact number?"
"Uh, no."
Ruby sighed in frustration. "Didn't they teach you anything in that college of yours?"
"Do you really want to mention Forever Wedding with a near disastrous parachute wedding?"
"Don't be melodramatic," Ruby said. "Any publicity is good publicity. Everybody knows that."
As the day started oh-so well, I figuered things must get better by the afternoon. I even allowed myself to think : How could they get worse? That was my first mistake at jinxing myself. The first sign of trouble came about an hour and a half before the start of the ceremony, when the bride arrived at the church. Now brides are usually nervous on their wedding day, and this anxiety can take many forms-minor irritability, nervous pacing, upset stomach, or even panic. On the day of the wedding, a wedding planners job is to reasure the bride that everythings going to be alright. This bride had a nomral case of nerves. She asked me a lot of questions which was normal as well, but weird ones too like "How would we check to make sure anyone not on the guest list was excluded from the festivities." I fuguered she must mean the usual party crashers, so I kept a look out for anyone suspicious.
Now to be fair, the bride never told me to look out for someone in specific. For example, she failed to tell me that the groom had a mentally deragned ex-girlfriend, who for the past three months had been stalking them.I was blissfully ignorant of said person and of the fact that they had a restraining order against said emtionally unstable ex. Why she wouldn't tell me of something so importanat is beyond me. When I went to check on the groom he was in pretty good conditon and only the slight shaking of his hands showed that he was nervous. As the guests started filling in, I went to stand by the ushers to make sure, as I promised that no wedding crashers madeit to the ceremony.
It's very simple how I missed her. It could of happened to anyone, honestly. When she walked in, I was talking to some suspiscious looking teens, who were sitting in the back, a famous place for wedding crashers. I found out that they were indeed friends of the family and thats when she slipped in behind me, or at least thats what I think happened. She took a seat on the third row on the grooms side and blended perfectly well until the end...and...well...I'm getting to that part. The orgnaist began to play, the priest went up then the groom then the flower girls, maid of honor with best man, bridesmaids and ushers then bride. The happy couple were up saying their vows and then they turned to the crowd as husband and wife.
What I didn't notice about her when she sat down was that she was wearing a wreath of flowers in her hair-the same as the bridesmaids. She also wore a light blue dress, same length, same design...In other words, she looked exactly like a bridesmaid. The bride turned a pale shade of white and rolled her eyes in the back of her head and fainted, hitting her head on the corner of a pew. The groom was so stunned that he didn't react fast enough to catch the bride and the best man went to take away the ex-girlfriend a.ka. bridesmaid wannabe. One of the real bridesmaid screamed, "You bitch!" and lept onto the women. The two collided,and rolled around in a heap of baby blue satin. Meanwhile the best man and ushers looked on with open mouths before finally stepping in to break it up, while the groom and and maid of honor tried waking the bride, who was, I fear knocked out and bleeding from her head.
I ran in the foyer to call 911, slipping and sliding in my heels on the newly polished floor, told them the situation, and had them disptach help. I feared what Ruby would say, seeing how I had two crazy weddings in one day. Damn did I need a drink. I tried to get everyone to be calm while there was commotion going on everywhere. Within minutes a fire truck pulled up in front of the church and I saw Syaoran Li jump off the back of the truck, pull up one suspender and stride purposefully toward the church. He wasn't lying when he said he got called to a lot of weddings.
"Hi."I said to Syaoran, and he jumped, more than a little surprised to see me. Or maybe it was my hair. Humidity and complete catastrophe had that effect on it, also I had taken a fall when I was rushing to get to the phone so it was probably sitcking out of the bun I had put it in.
"You sure do get around a lot." I said jitterly, moving quickly to get inside. I always did have trouble acting normally around good-looking people.
"I could say the same for you," he replied flatly. Jay, I saw was at the back of the truck and in no hurry to move. Syaoran, however was busy asking me what had happened.
I gave the best explanation that I could, although I did have trouble sticking to my train of thought, staring at me as he was with those big, brown puppy-dog eyes. Looks aren't everything, I kept telling myself, even thought I was having trouble concentrating on that thought, being caught up in a whirl of other distractions; his strong jawline (that happened to have the sexiest hint og five-o'clock shadow), his taut, broad chest, and the flat hard stomach. I was begining to think that I might need hormone therepy. I never was the sort of person who got hot and bothered. Not unless we're talking about the sort of hot and bothere you get when the AC breaks down in a stuffy church in the middle of a heat wave in August.
Syaoran knelt beside the limp bride, putting down his medical kit. He felt for a pulse and checked her breathing, and then pulled a light from his pocket, which he flashed into her eyes while he held open her lids. (I noticed by the way, that he wasn't wearing a wedding band. I admit it gave me hope-stupid since I had as much a chance with him as with Brad Pitt) About this time the bride began to come around and asked groggily what happened.
"You hit your head," Syaoran said helpin gher sit up. "Easy, now. It's quite a bump you've got there."
"Honey, are you okay?" the groom asked anxiously rubbing her hand.
"My head hurts," she said.
"It's okay, ma'am," Syaoran said (he actually said ma'am if you can believe that). "I don't think you have a concussion, but you may need a few stitches." the bride turned her attention to Syaoran (I mean he's hard to ignore) and smiled brightly at him. The groom frowned.
"I think we'll handle it from here," he said giving Syaoran a subtle but firm nudge.
"Yes, I'll be fine."the bride said, and began to stand, but wobbled to the left, where Syaoran caught her firmly with one arm. I was begining to wish I had been the one who fainted. I sighed.
"Careful," he said, steadying her. "You should really rest. And perhaps have a doctor take a look at that lump. We can take her to the ER."
"I'll take her," the groom said quickly, pulling his new wife away from Syaoran.
"Whatever you like." Syaoran shurgged. "Just make sure she doesn't fall asleep for another eight hours at least, just in case. And, she shouldn't drink any alcohol for at least twenty-four hours." he squatted, snapped his medical case shut, and then straightened to his full height.
"Good luck" he said, then began walking out to the fire truck parked outside.
"Thanks," I called from the door of the church. He didn't say anything, just flung a hand backward in a wave and threw a heart-stopping smile over his shoulder.
The reception was cancelled ( the couple were in the ER all night) and the ex-girlfriend was arrested, and I was left starving. So I went home and dragged myself to the kitchen, rummaged around and made some popcorn ( my favorite dinner in the whole world, prep time 2.3 minutes), grabbed a Coke from the fridge, and plopped down on my couch. In this usually safe enviroment, I flicked on my television ( which was my final mistake of many today). A too-happy news anchor was talking about the "Wedding of Errors," and suddenly there I was on t.v. The first thing I noticed was my hair, which due to the running I had done in uncomfortable and hardly balanced heels, caused it to once again try to escape it's confinement in the bun i had done. Of course it wasn't too bad, but there was twigs and some leaves poking out of it. Anyways, back to the t.v.
I was grinning like an idiot and squinting, looking sickly pale in the bright light so close to my face. I could of passed as one of those mole people that escaped from the sewers.
"Kablam!" I said, and laughed like an idiot. The camera cut to the toothy reporte, who said,
"Kablam indeed, it whar happened when this young groom fell into a grove of trees instead of landing in the arms of his bride. A crosswind acught the parachute of this groom, taking him off course. He landed in a patch of trees and had to be rescued by firefighters." The television showed the weak groom being lifted in the arms of Syaoran Li and carried down the ladder to safety. Syaoran, I noticed looked even better on t.v than he did in person..
The reporter was saying, "No one was seriously injured, however, the bride and groom did exchange vows. Both say they don't have any regrets and that they would do it again." pfft, just without me being their planner.Teh camera cut to the groom. "Yeah, I'd do it again." Then back to the reporter.
"Sue, back to you." the toothy reporter said, showing all her teeth.
I choked on a piece of popcorn and caughed until tears came into my eyes.That was it? That was all! I had said so many intelligent things, hadn't I? The phone rang just as I was able to breathe again.
"Oh my god, you were on TV!" Tomyo did nothing lately but talk loudly. "What happened today? Whats the deal with that fine fireman? Spill it."
"You wouldn't believe meif I told
you," I said. My call waiting beeped.
Uh hold on, other
line."I clicked over. "Hello?"
"Sakura, what in the world happened to your hair? Have you been usuing the new hairstyling products I bought you?"
"Moooom," I said sounding exactly liek a fourteen year old. "I've got to you call you back, other line."
"Just a-" I clicked back over to Tomoyo, but before I could say anything call waiting beeped again.
"Just what do you think your doing, young lady? Hanging up on your mother? Have I not taught you any manners at all?" I groaned but she didn't notice. I clicked over to TOmoyo and told her I'd call her alter. When I clicked back, MOm was in midsentence, as usual. "...not the only golden rule, there's also the second most important rule, which according to Miss Manners is..."
Sigh, what did I do to derserve this?
SORRY I TOOK SOOOOO LONG! But this is a long chappie so it shuld make u happie :D