Disclaimer: That '70s Show copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. The 10th Kingdom copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 7
JOINED AND DISJOINTED

Eric stood by the wedding altar, keeping his arms limp at his sides. He'd fixed his gaze on the branch of a dogwood tree. Its cream-colored blossoms fluttered in the late spring breeze, but how did he see that so far away? The wall of trees lay several feet back from the wedding aisle, where Donna would eventually appear. The blossoms themselves were little bigger than quarters, but their petals were distinct to him. From his vantage point, they should've been a mass of cream-colored blobs.

Being a nervous wreck could have sharpened his eyesight. The adrenaline pumping through his veins definitely made him sweat more, and the impulse to fidget was growing stronger. A half-inch of thread dangled from his left sleeve cuff. It would've been perfect to tug at, but the best-man advice Hyde gave him early that morning had stuck with him:

"Look, Forman, I know you're gonna get all twitchy and Forman-y up there—and as entertaining as that would be for me, I don't want Donna to get screwed over again. So you can either smoke this joint right here and risk running around Mt. Hump naked, or you can go Zen."

Eric had no idea what "going Zen" meant, but Hyde explained it: "Observe, don't participate. Distance yourself from what's going on so you're watching it like a movie... until Donna shows up. Then you gotta get back into your skin, man, 'cause it would be lame as hell to miss your moment with her like that."

So Eric's arms were limp at his sides and unmoving, just Hyde's often were. He controlled his breathing and tuned out the surrounding chatter. Wedding guests sat before him in rows of white chairs, and he ignored his extended family's attempts to catch his eye—Uncle Marty and Cousin Penny, Aunt Paula and Donna's uncle Carmine. He focused instead on the dogwood blossoms fluttering in the wind.

Taking Hyde's advice did make him feel calmer, but an unwelcome consequence was that time slowed. His mother had left his side less than ten seconds ago, after walking down the aisle with him. Yet it felt as if he'd been standing by the altar for ten minutes. At least the sky was clear and blue. The only reminder of yesterday's rain was the earthy smell of mud.

Finally, Fez emerged at the front of the wedding aisle with Sarah, Donna's best friend from college. She held a bouquet of stargazer lilies, and a rapier was sheathed at Fez's side. The wedding's proximity to the Traveling mirror required such a measure, Fez had explained. Despite how well-guarded the mirror was in his castle, one never knew what could happen. An uninvited guest from the Nine Kingdoms could jump through and crash the wedding.

"So you went with the G-String," Fez whispered in Eric's ear. He and Sarah had reached the altar. "Sexy choice, my friend."

Eric chuckled. Bach's Air on a G String was playing through the outdoor speakers, a traditional processional song. Fez clearly thought the "G String" of the title meant underwear.

Kelso and Brooke walked down the aisle next. Kelso, too, had a rapier at his side, and halfway up the aisle, he nodded at Brooke. "Isn't she beautiful, man?"

"Michael, shh," Brooke said, and Eric was surprised he could hear them over the music. Her gaze lowered to her bouquet, as if she were embarrassed, but she kissed Kelso's cheek before they separated at the altar.

Hyde and Jackie followed. Hyde's sunglasses were off, and he seemed relaxed. Jackie, though, gripped her bouquet tightly, holding it in front of her stomach. Her other hand gripped Hyde's arm just as tightly. She kept quiet during the aisle-walk, but at the altar she said to Eric, "What wedding doesn't have roses?"

"Too conventional," Eric said.

The acidity of her tone sharpened. "It's bad enough I have to wear a puke-green dress, but to carry a bouquet of—"

"Jackie," Hyde said, "shut your piehole and enjoy the damn wedding."

She moved silently to the bride's side of the altar. Her bouquet remained by her stomach, and she plucked petals off the flowers, making Eric's breath grow heavy. Not only did he have to worry about Mitch—that dillhole was somewhere in all those rows of seats—but Jackie was cranky. And a cranky Jackie was an unpredictable Jackie.

"Forman," Hyde flicked Eric's wrist, "quit fidgeting."

Eric glanced at his left sleeve. The thread dangling from the cuff was longer now.

The flower girl, a child no older than five, skipped onto the wedding aisle. A small tiara sat atop her blonde head, and she was strewing rose petals from a basket.

"What the hell?" Eric mouthed. He and Donna had chosen small carnations for the flower girl, not rose petals. He was tempted to halt the wedding, grab the basket out of her hand, and get the right flowers.

"Who's the kid?" Hyde whispered.

Eric shrugged. "A relative of Donna's... I think. She's got a thousand cousins on her dad's side."

The flower girl reached the altar and peered up at him. She was smiling—more of a smirk than a smile—and he shuddered. He'd never seen her before, but something in her face was familiar, something in the eyes. Maybe they were like Bob's...

Three sets of knuckles jabbed Eric's side, and his focus shot up. Donna had begun to walk down the aisle. Her father was beside her, and she held a bouquet of tiger lilies, but all he could focus on was her face. Her blue eyes sparkled in the sunlight, and her hair shone like angelic fire, stealing his breath. The train of her beaded wedding dress glided along the aisle runner, but his pounding heartbeat blocked all sound until her warm, soft hands grasped his.

"Donna, you are so..." he swallowed and forced the words to come, "incredibly, incredibly beautiful."

She answered him with her eyes. She had this way of looking at him, intense and silent, that told him everything he needed to know. But then she tugged on his hands and burst into a grin. "Oh, my God, Eric—we're getting married!"

"I know," he said.

"And you're here."

"I am."

Her grin deepened. "And I'm here, and all our family and friends are here, and—"

"I'm here," Pastor Dan said in his smooth, Lando-Calrissian voice. "Shall we get started?"

Eric and Donna both nodded, and as Pastor Dan read the blessing, all thoughts of Star Wars left Eric's mind.

"Into this holy union," Pastor Dan said, "Eric Forman and Donna Pinciotti now come to be joined. If any of you can show just cause why they may not lawfully be married, speak now; or else forever hold your peace."

Eric surveyed the guests. His mom was crying, and his dad rubbed her back. Bob's face was buried in a clump of tissues, and Midge rubbed his back. Cousin Penny looked bored, much like Laurie would have had she been at the wedding—and alive. Eric half-expected to hear Mitch shout something, but he couldn't even spot the twerp.

He did spot his two invited guests from the Nine Kingdoms, though: Clayface the Goblin and Acorn the Dwarf. Both had helped him and Kelso escape Snow White Memorial Prison. They were sitting by Jerry Thunder from WFPP radio, who didn't seem to notice Clayface's green, warty skin or Acorn's gouged-out, sewn-shut eye. Like all the guests, Johnny was focused on Eric and Donna, but no one spoke.

"Right on," Pastor Dan said. "And now Donna and Eric would like to say their own vows."

Donna reaffirmed her grip on Eric's hands. "Eric," she said, "we grew up together, and I wouldn't be who I am without you. What you've given me—and continue to give me—makes my life a thousand times richer."

A high-pitched, strangled sob came from the rows of chairs. It was either Eric's mother—or Bob, but Eric's attention was set on Donna, and he refused to remove it.

Tears had risen in her eyes, and they fell as she continued to speak. "You are ridiculously patient, Eric. You always make me feel like I'm worth waiting for. Your generosity taught me that I'm worth giving to, and your bravery awes me—"

An incredulous laugh escaped from behind Donna, Jackie, but Eric didn't care. Neither did Donna, apparently, because she spoke as if she didn't hear it.

"—it awes me, Eric. What we've faced together..." Her voice grew tight. "I am so much stronger when you're with me. I know you don't believe that, but it's true."

Eric's eyes began to sting, and his throat felt thick. Of all people in his life he fought to be brave for, it was her.

"And..." she chuckled, and her voice loosened up, "and you make life fun. So much fun. From the first time I made you eat dirt during recess to our little wrestling match last week—"

"Eww! No one needs to hear about that, Donna!" Jackie again. A few of the guests laughed, and Eric bit back a grumble.

Donna, though, sighed. Then she thrust an elbow into Jackie's ribs, making Jackie cry out and hide behind Brooke.

"You can actually pin me down now," Donna said, returning her full attention to Eric. "We grew up together. We're still growing together, and no one else—no one—has the effect on me you have."

She swept a hand up his arm and slid her fingers into the back of his hair. Every part of him, from his skin to his blood, wanted to pull her into the woods beyond the wedding area, to tear off her dress, and start the honeymoon early. But they weren't married yet, and the more she spoke, the more intense his feelings grew—and waiting would only add to their wedding night.

"Eric, I promise always to listen to you, even if I'm pissed off. It might take a few hours to get my hearing back, but my deafness is never permanent. I promise to stand by you during your best times and dumbassery because I will always love you. No matter what happens in our lives, I will always love you."

Several more sobs came from the guests, but Eric's throat felt even thicker. He swallowed, hoping to rid himself of the lump. "Donna—" he said with some difficulty, "God, it's hard to even look at you, let alone talk because..." he swallowed again, "because you are the most amazing person I have ever known. I've loved you since the day we first met, when you punched me in the stomach. I loved you more when you sat on my head the next day during recess—"

Hyde laughed behind him, probably remembering that day himself, and Fez whispered, "Sexy."

Eric's hands glided to the small of Donna's back, both out of tenderness and a need for her strength. "Everything you do, Donna, makes me love you more. Even when you get angry at me—because I learn from it. I become better because of it, because of you."

He swallowed a third time. She was looking at him with that look, and he knew what she was feeling, just knew.

"I am tremendously grateful that you're in my life, to whatever force—maybe the Force—allowed us to meet. And I swear I'm gonna do everything I can to make you happy, to keep you happy. Because you make me happy, Donna. You—"

"Oh, my God! Oh, G—God..." Jackie had started up again. Her bouquet lay by her feet in a pile of stargazer lily petals, and her face collapsed into a pool of tears. "N—no! He'll never..." Her crying grew more staccato by the second, like she was hyperventilating, and she looked as though she might faint.

"Shit." Hyde darted behind the altar and pulled her aside, but she shoved at his shoulders. Then—as if she'd never been crying at all—she smoothed down her dress, picked up her decimated bouquet, and stood silently by Brooke again.

Hyde returned to Eric's side, and Eric looked at him questioningly. Hyde only shrugged, but that wasn't good enough. After the honeymoon, they were going to have a talk about Hyde's crazy, spotlight-hogging fiancée.

"Anyway," Eric said, running his hand up Donna's back, "you're more than my Princess Leia, so much more. You're the only girl—the only woman I've felt this way about, the only one I ever will feel this way about, and I swear I'm gonna do everything I can to be worthy of how you love me."

"Eric—" Donna covered her mouth. Her flushed cheeks and teary eyes served only to make her more gorgeous.

"And now if the best man will present the rings," Pastor Dan said, and Hyde pulled two gold rings from his tuxedo jacket. Pastor Dan took the larger ring, Eric's, and gave it to Donna. "Donna, please repeat after me."

She placed the ring at the tip of Eric's left ring finger and repeated Pastor Dan's words. "Eric, I give you this ring as a sign of my love and faithfulness. Receive this ring as a token of wedded love and faith."

Pastor Dan gave Eric Donna's ring. Eric repeated his words, and as the ring slid up Donna's finger, Eric's heart weighed less than a feather. Not since his senior year of high school did his chest feel so light and clear.

"We who have come together today," Pastor Dan said, "have heard the willingness of Donna and Eric to be joined in marriage. They have come of their free will and in our presence, have declared their love and commitment to each other..."

But all Eric could hear was Donna's breath until Pastor Dan said, "You may now kiss your bride."

"Oh, happy day!" a tiny, feminine voice squeaked. It was Donna's engagement ring, and the pearl hummed cheerfully.

"'Happy day,' indeed," Eric said. "Yes, yes..." He leaned forward, and Donna hugged his waist, and they both smiled into the kiss until it became too deep.


Kitty finally stopped crying by the time Red escorted her to the banquet area. Her face was a cloud during the ceremony, dropping tears in sheets and making her lightheaded. If the ground hadn't been muddy from yesterday's rain, her tears would've done the job. Her son was so handsome in his tuxedo, so adult in the vows he shared with Donna. Kitty hardly believed how much he'd grown the last year. His focus and drive reminded her of Red.

"How the hell did Eric get Donna to agree to that?" Red said, gesturing above him. They were passing through an archway of white-frosted cupcakes. It led to round banquet tables.

"Actually, it was Donna's idea," Kitty said. She blotted her nose with a tissue and laughed. "There's going to be a trampoline on the dance floor, but that was Eric's idea... by way of Michael Kelso."

Red tightened his grip on her hand. "Of course it was."

Ivory-colored paving stones covered the ground. White and purple flowers garlanded the banquet tables, and Red pulled a chair out for her. He sat down himself and pecked her lips. The moment made her pause. Red was her Red again, the man she'd fallen so deeply in love with thirty years ago. The last year, he'd admitted things she never thought she'd hear, truths that almost broke them apart.

Her menopause and drinking had scared the hell out of him. He thought he'd lost her to hormones and alcohol, and it drove him to focus on other women—like Jackie's mother and those car-show harlots—something her Red had never done after he proposed to her. He'd always made it clear she was the only woman for him, and she never doubted he would stray until Pam Burkhart flounced back into town.

But after Laurie visited them the first time almost a year ago, Kitty's hormones calmed down. Her reliance on alcohol diminished, and she felt like herself again, too. Red admitted those frightening things to her, but their marriage came through it much stronger—and much happier. She always believed she and Red could get through anything together, and the last year confirmed it.

"What did you think of the ceremony," she whispered as other guests joined their table.

"Too long," Red said and tinkered with the table's garland, "but I'm glad Eric made it to the end." A braid of scarlet was peeking from his white sleeve. It looked like woven hair.

"Red, what's that?"

"Just, uh..." He pulled the sleeve back over the braid. "Just something my mother gave me."

Kitty patted her heart and nodded. He'd worn it to bring his mother's spirit to the wedding. Though she never liked the woman—actually, what Kitty felt was more akin to hatred—she hoped Bernice had found peace in death. She'd brought Red into this world, and for that Kitty would always be grateful.

Tears threatened again at the thought. She thanked God, too, for Red's presence in her life—and for so many other things—until her sister, Paula, sat next to her. Paula was gorgeous in her perfectly-applied Kathy May cosmetics, and she pepped Kitty right up.

"You did a great job with him," Paula said. Her pink-lacquered nails shone in the sunlight. It was a lovely shade, and Kitty would have to buy some from her—at a discount, of course. "He's grown up so well."

"Do you mean Eric or Red?" That was from Red's brother Paul. He was seated close by, and the coincidence of his name to Paula's always tickled Kitty. "'Cause Red needed a lot of work!" Uproarious laughter swallowed his last word.

Paul and Red were very different in temperament. Smiles came far more easily to Paul, and sometimes Kitty believed all they had in common was their mother's red hair—only Paul had much more of it.

"Penny," Paul said, chuckling to his daughter, "which do you think Paula meant, sweetheart?"

"Oh, Daddy, she means Eric, of course," Penny said. "Aunt Kitty, Uncle Red, you really did do a fantastic job with Eric. He's matured a lot."

Kitty reached across Red and Paul and clutched Penny's hand. "Why, thank you, Penny!"

"Yeah," Red said, "Eric's half the dumbass as he used to be," and Paul laughed, but a few chairs over their brother Marty frowned. He was always sensitive, but Kitty shared his disapproval. Red just couldn't seem to be proud of their boy

Bob clanked his fork on a glass. "What about my Donna, huh? Wasn't she beautiful up there?"

"Prettiest bride I've ever seen," Bob's brother Carmine said. He had a thick New Jersey accent and looked as if he'd come straight out of that Godfather movie. Kitty suppressed a shiver. If Eric had run out on Donna this time, he might not have come back with his thumbs.

The large table erupted in conversation, filled with both the groom and bride's families. A few minutes in, Red's hand dropped below the table and landed on Kitty's knee. She giggled as if she were a teenager, giddy with it all. She wasn't sure if she'd ever have a moment like this, celebrating her child's marriage with everyone she loved. But the day had come. The only thing missing was her daughter, Laurie.

Penny so reminded Kitty of her daughter, same blonde hair, same smile. But as similar as they were physically, their attitudes matched even more. They both treated Eric with condescension. Neither had much direction until recently or seemed able to commit in a relationship. But Penny's date to the wedding appeared to be a fine young man. He was attentive, unfolding and placing her napkin on her lap. Making sure her glass was filled with water. Getting a server's attention when Penny complained the appetizers hadn't arrived yet.

He was quite handsome, too, with a rugged face—like Casey Kelso's—but a playful glint in his eye like Steven. His black hair was slicked-back. His pinstriped suit made him appear rather dashing, and those brown eyes—so hard not to gaze into them.

"Kitty..." Red squeezed her knee, and she snapped out of her daze.

"Oh, my..." She laughed out of embarrassment. "I was just... Penny, you never introduced us to your, um... friend."

Penny gasped and covered her heart. "I am so rude! Aunt Kitty, Uncle Red, this is Warren. Warren, this is my aunt and uncle."

Warren stretched his arm across the table and took Kitty's hand. "Huff-puff," he said, "your succulent beauty rivals Cinderella herself, but that's to be expected. You're Penny's aunt, after all."

Kitty's cheeks grew hot as a huge snort ripped from her. "Only by marriage..." Then she turned to Red. "Did you hear what he said to me?"

"Yeah, I heard it." He tore Warren's hand from hers with a grunt.

Kitty kept blushing, elated by Red's jealousy. He still got so worked up about her, even thirty years later, but she hid her delight and focused on Penny and her date. "So, Penny, how did you two meet?"

"Meat!" Warren shouted, as if some force had taken him over Then he scratched at his temple with two fingers. "Pardon me. I'm just hungry."

"Oh, I'm used to it," Kitty said. "Eric sounds just like that lately. You know, this morning he told me to drop a whole pig on his plate. Said he'd carve out the bacon himself!"

Warren nodded. "Your son and I have a lot in common."

"I don't think so," Red said.

"Red." Kitty was about to elbow him, but the servers finally arrived with the appetizers, bruschetta with olive oil and prosciutto. Warren ate his with gusto, and his eyes flashed orange.

No, that couldn't be right. People's eyes didn't flash orange. The sun must have reflected in his eyes. Either that, or Kitty's mind was addled by the wedding. She'd experienced so much emotion today. Who could fault her for hallucinating a little?


The servers cleared the tables of empty appetizer plates, and Hyde put something on top of Eric's head. Eric had no idea if it was a tomato slice or a napkin. His attention was only for Donna. She looked delectable beneath the bright, blue sky. The sun glittered off her beaded wedding dress, and her skin seemed to glow softly. Having an outdoor wedding had definitely been the right idea.

"So, Mrs. Pinciotti-Forman," he said, scooting his chair closer to hers, "you've been my wife for almost a half-hour now. How does it feel?"

"Well, I really like it when you call me your wife." She slid her hands over his knees, which made his insides tingle. He still wanted to start the honeymoon early, but he'd ordered the roast sirloin of beef—cooked rare—for his main course. A full-stomach would make him a better lover. "I also love how you're looking at me right now," she said.

"How about when I kiss you—no longer as your fiancé but your husband?"

They leaned into each other and began to kiss, but Fez banged the table. "Must you two keep doing that?" he said. "It gives me needs."

"Fez, it's our wedding day," Donna said, but Fez no longer looked in their direction. He was staring across the banquet area at another table. Mitch was seated there with Big Rhonda, who was his date. A weird pairing if there ever was one, a Dwarf and his Giantess.

Eric gestured to Rhonda, not that Fez noticed, and said, "Why don't you go talk to her?"

"Ai... I could not do that." Fez glanced back at Eric. "I have not seen her in years. The last time I did, she choked me because I tried to steal third base. Not my kingliest act."

"No," Hyde said, "but it was the act of a dog, which you were once. Literally.And you changed back into a man. So be a man and go talk to her."

"Ai..." Fez returned his stare to Rhonda.

"Uncle Fez is sad," Betsy said from her high chair.

She was sitting between Kelso and Betsy. Kelso had put some purple flowers in her hair, and now he opened a box of crayons for her. "Yup, but he won't be once you draw him a magical drawing."

Brooke removed some paper from her diaper bag, but she gave Kelso a stern look. "Magical imagination drawing, right, Michael?"

"Right, right."

"Michael..."

"You need Pixie dust for that, and I didn't bring any. God, Brooke! Don't you trust me?"

She sighed. "I just don't want one of Betsy's tornadoes to come off the page and destroy Eric and Donna's wedding."

"That only happened once—and in an open field," Kelso said. "The cows were fine. Dizzy, but fine."

"Moo!" Betsy said and giggled. Her fist held an orange crayon, and she swirled it on the paper. "Moo!"

Kelso and Brooke exchanged secret smiles, like they'd been doing since they sat down. They weren't too secret, though, or else Eric wouldn't have spotted them. Brooke knew the truth about the Nine Kingdoms now, and according to Kelso she'd taken it well.

"They look like an adorable family," Donna whispered.

"They do," Eric said. "Too bad Kelso has no idea what family really means. You'd think a guy with six siblings would."

She laughed then stopped abruptly. "Wait, that's actually kind of sad."

"You know what would cheer you up?" he said. "A kiss from your husband."

She laughed again, and they managed to make out for at least a minute before they were disrupted.

"Eric, Donna, congratulations!" Cousin Penny had come by their table. A blithe expression lit on her face and a tight, red dress hugged her body. "The ceremony was lovely, really."

He hesitated before answering. "Thank you, Penny."

"It's too bad Grandma couldn't be here to see it. You're the first of us to get married."

Eric's hand twitched, and he clenched it into a fist. Grandma Forman, who he'd unintentionally killed with his words. He was driving her back home after Sunday dinner, and she'd called him out on the truth.

"You don't like it when I come to visit."

"Yes, I do," he said. "I really do."

"You're a filthy liar. You didn't learn to lie from my Red. That came from your mother."

"Well, you see, Grandma," he said,"that's the problem right there, okay? Every time you come to my house, you spend the whole day criticizing my mom."

"Well, I tell it like it is."

"Okay, Grandma, then here's how it is: You're very nasty. And I don't see why you have to be so hateful. I don't think being nice for a whole day would kill you."

He stared at the road, waiting for an answer, and a heavy weight fell onto his shoulder—his grandmother. She was dead, just like Laurie.

Because of him.

Penny nodded sadly, bringing him back to the present. "It would've been nice had Grandma lived long enough for your wedding."

His heart sagged against his ribs. "Nothing was nice about her," he said, but Penny didn't seem to hear him. She pointed across the banquet area, at a table piled high with wedding presents.

"Anyway, Eric, I got you a nice gift. You should open it before the honeymoon... Oh, my God!" She dashed to Jackie's side, two chairs over. "Is that an engagement ring?" She grasped Jackie's left wrist. "Wow, it's so beautiful. Can I see it?" She reached for the ring, but Jackie slapped her hand away.

"Yeah," Hyde said, "Jackie hasn't taken that ring off since I put it on her. She's half-in love with it."

"I understand why," Penny said. She was using that fake, saccharine tone Eric hated. "If I had a ring like that..." She waved the thought away. "Well, you must really love her, Hyde."

Eric pressed his forehead into Donna's shoulder, trying not to laugh. He wanted to burn Penny so badly, to say something unbelievably nasty. She wasn't known for fidelity—to friend, family, or the string of boyfriends she'd had over the years. He was surprised she even knew the word "love".

Jackie flashed Penny a dirty look and stroked Hyde's cheek. "No one else gets to touch this ring, just as no one else gets to touch my man."

Penny smirked, and Eric didn't like it. She was a troublemaker, always had been. She liked to skulk around, hoping to catch someone doing something wrong. Then she'd tattle. Or worse, she do something illicit herself and pin the blame on someone else—usually him.

"Okay, Penny, thanks for the visit," Eric said. "You can—"

"Penny, darling!" a man called from somewhere. "The main course is about to be served."

"Excuse me," Penny said and returned to her table, but Jackie froze as if she were spooked, and strong hand gripped Eric's arm—Donna's. She seemed frightened, too.

Eric brushed his fingers through her hair. "Hey, what is it?" but she shook her head and loosened her grip.

"Nothing. I just thought—never mind."

The servers brought their dishes. Eric's mood had darkened somewhat, but the smell of barely-cooked beef lightened it again. His belly rumbled as if he hadn't eaten in days, despite the pound of bacon he ate this morning. Regular exercise had definitely increased his appetite, but not just for food. Donna looked so tempting in her wedding dress. He couldn't wait to rip it off her.


"That was one helluva steak," Red said. He licked the remnants of steak juice from his fork. "I coulda had two or three of those." And he could have. Whoever Eric hired to cater this wedding, they weren't idiots in the kitchen. Hell, the whole wedding had gone off without a hitch, and the best part was he didn't have to spend a penny.

Kitty patted his arm. "Oh, Red, you're such a carnivore..."

"Yeah," Bob said, "I could never be a—whatchmacallit—one of those vegetarians." He stuck his last bite of lamb chop into his mouth and spoke while he chewed. "Eating only beansprouts? Not for me"

A loud gasp escaped Warren, Penny's weirdo of a date. "Who could deny himself the tender flesh of a lamb? Or the meat of a deer after a lengthy chase across a field?"

Bob shrugged. "I don't know, but there's a whole flock of plant-eaters out there. It's a fad or something, like Feminism."

"Savages," Warren growled, and Red rolled his eyes. Weirdo. He even smelled weird, not like a man. More like an animal."Feminists aren't savages," Midge said a few chairs away. "They're fighting for equality between the genders—and the right not to shave their legs. Bob never understood that, which is one reason I divorced him."

Warren frowned. "Oh, I didn't mean the feminists. I meant the vegetarians." He ran a hand through his black hair, and his voice took on an affected, theatrical quality. "Yes, I prefer my meals fleshy and my women hairy. Shaving is definitely not a requirement for me."

"Well, that's just great..." Red said, excluding the word "dumbass" for Kitty's sake. He glanced over his shoulder at the bride and groom's table, if only to separate himself from the current conversation. The foreign kid was sitting there next to Kettlehead. Unbelievable, but they got stranger every time he saw them. They both wore rapiers at their sides—for what reason, he couldn't fathom. But considering Sabu turned out to be a prince from—wherever—and footed the bill for the wedding, Red wasn't about to complain.

"What is that sound?" Kitty said. "I've been hearing it for over five minutes."

"What sound?" Red said, and then he heard it: a faint, high-pitched rumbling. "I'll go find out."

He stood from the table, grateful for the break. A man could take only so much socializing. He followed the sound across the banquet area, mumbling thank-yous to people as they congratulated him. He also said an inaudible, "Fuck you," to Kitty's cousin Alice for her unwelcome comment:

"It's so nice Eric gave women another try. Maybe you'll get some grandchildren."

He never liked that woman. Fortunately, only weddings and funerals ever brought them together.

The rumbling was loudest through an arch of purple-frosted cupcakes. Red walked beneath it and stepped onto the peach travertine dance floor. A wall of tall hedges surrounded the area. At the center of the floor was that sickly-looking guest Eric had invited, the one covered in warts. A chainsaw was in his hands as he busily worked on an ice sculpture.

Red approached him tentatively and said, "What are you doing?"

The man peered behind him, giving Red a glimpse of his hideous, green face. "Carving."

"I see."

But Red didn't see at all. The ice block was cut into ten different figures. Two vaguely looked like Eric and Donna. Another resembled Steven, and one kind of looked like Kitty. Beneath them were the words, "The Love that Saved the Nine Kingdoms".

Red grumbled on his way back to the banquet area. This wedding was filled with weirdos.


The wedding cake looked beautiful—not to mention delicious—with all the purple and white sugar flowers on each tier, and Jackie ached to have a piece. But her puke-green dress, despite Mrs. Forman's late-night alterations, kept growing tighter. She shouldn't have eaten the main course or the appetizer, but the food tasted too good.

Donna and Eric cut into the cake, and everyone laughed as Eric shoved his piece into Donna's face. She retaliated swiftly, however, smearing his mouth and nose with buttercream.

"Wedding burns are the best," Steven whispered. His chuckling tickled Jackie's ear. His arm was draped around her waist, but none of it comforted her. She wanted to shrink into a grain of salt. The thought he could feel her bloat—and the shame she felt at disrupting Eric and Donna's vows—was almost too much to bear.

Usually, she could control her impulses. She didn't actually care if the wedding had no roses, and Eric was brave. He'd proven it last year with everything that happened through the mirror. So why hadn't she kept her mouth shut during the vows? Why had she cried so hysterically? It was like some parasite had crawled inside her brain and spat out the nastiest pieces of herself for everyone to see.


Chairs lined the dance floor, and a small trampoline stood in the corner. A huge ice sculpture depicted Donna and Eric—and some other people Donna didn't bother to identify. Eric's touch kept her mind occupied, along with the DJ's voice booming through the outdoor speakers.

"It's time for the bride and groom's first dance as husband-and-wife," the DJ said. "Donna and Eric, would you please step to the middle of the dance floor?"

Eric led Donna toward the ice sculpture and held her in a traditional waltz hold. His arms were so strong now, his body so much more a man's. Music filled the air, "Thirteen" by Big Star, and her pulse sped up. Tears stung the edges of her eyes. God,she'd cried enough today, but at least they were happy tears.

"That song was on the radio when you first held my hand," she said, "and you tried to make it seem like it was an accident. We were, like, ten."

"Yeah..." Eric waltzed her around the ice sculpture. "All the songs I chose are from our history."

The sentiment soaked in, and she hit his chest affectionately. "I can't believe you remembered."

"I remember everything about you... about us."

"Eric..."

She cupped his face, and their first marital dance turned into their sixth makeout session as husband-and-wife.


Aerosmith's "Same Old Song Dance" blasted through the speakers once the bride-and-groom's dance had finished. Almost everyone moved onto the dance floor, and Hyde wouldn't have minded dancing to this song, but Jackie stood like a statue by the chairs, arms crossed. It had to be the choice of tunes, man. Dancing to rock music wasn't her deal, so he waited with his own arms crossed. He kept his trap shut and didn't look at her. Any little thing could set her off, and he wouldn't risk it.

ABBA's "Fernando" eventually took Aerosmith's place. That was more Jackie's style. He offered her his hand and said, "Time to put those foot-crushing ballroom lessons to good use."

"Not to this song."

"Okay, so no Aerosmith and no ABBA. What do you wanna dance to?"

"ABBA is fine, Steven. But 'Fernando...'" She shut her eyes as if she were in some kind of pain. They were wet when she opened them. "Your first dance was to this song—with Donna. Not me."

"So what? We hated each other back then."

"It was still your first dance."

"Technically, Mrs. Forman was my first dance."

Tears carved wet roads down Jackie's cheeks. "There are so many firsts of your life I wasn't part of."

"It's not first that matters, doll. It's running the bases. Sliding repeatedly into home, man. That's how you win."

She didn't laugh, didn't even call him a pig.

He stiffened and looked up at the sky. No clouds. They'd all crammed themselves into Jackie's head. "Hey, I wasn't your first for a lot of crap either," he said, looking at her again. "Like sex, but I'm still trying to have a good time with you."

Her face reddened. "You were my second. I was your... God, Steven, how many sluts did you sleep with before me?"

This time, he stared down at the peach dance floor. A sharp breeze bit through his tuxedo jacket, but his skin, muscles, and bones were burning. He could have yelled, could have separated himself from the moment. Instead, he forced a truth through his clenched jaw: "You're the first chick I fell in love with."

"Am I gonna be the last?"

"Not if you keep this shit up."

Pain sank into his shin before he could lift his gaze, and he fell back onto a chair. Jackie's three-inch heels clacked away from him as he clutched his throbbing leg.

"Women," a deep voice said. Acorn the Dwarf was standing to Hyde's left. "My first old lady used to kick me, too, and that was before a Fairy turned her into a giant shoe. What's wrong with yours?"

"I don't know, man," Hyde said.

Acorn tsked. His face, as always, looked like it had lost a knife fight—the missing eye, the scar from his eyebrow to his chin. "She doesn't seem too happy with you."

"Yup." Hyde remained in the chair but let go of his leg. The pain in his shin had become a dull ache. "It's like she's got PMS but a thousand-times worse."

"Ah. Pulchritudinous Magic Syndrome. Yeah, my second old lady had that. But she turned herself into a dung beetle, and I never heard from her again."

Hyde nodded, though he had no idea what Acorn was talking about. Then he stood up—with no desire to learn what Acorn was talking about, either—and scanned the dancing crowd for Jackie. No luck, but he spotted Eric's cousin Penny. She must have seen him, too, because she stepped away from the crowd and walked toward him.

"Hey," he said to Acorn, hoping to cause some mischief, "have you met—"

But Acorn was no longer anywhere in sight. Smart man.

"Hello, Hyde," Penny said. Her lips were as red as her scarlet dress. "Where's Jackie? Why aren't you two dancing?"

He shrugged. "Not in the mood."

"Well..." she laid her hand on his shoulder and slid it down his arm, "would you like to dance with me?"

"No."

"All right." Her fingertips grazed his palm as they left him. His own fingers twitched at the contact, and he fought the urge to ball them into a fist. "I must say, Hyde," she said, "I'm surprised you and Jackie are together—and engaged, no less. Didn't you hate her?"

"Yeah. It didn't last long." He shifted on his feet. David Bowie's "Golden Years" had begun to play, one of Jackie's favorite songs.

"It's interesting how such hatred can turn to love." Penny was smiling that crooked, shit-stirring smile of hers, but her eyes disturbed him more. They were too much like her bitch-grandmother's, containing a frigidity that never mattered to him before. "I hope the reverse isn't true," she said with empty sweetness. "Although I did hear somewhere—or maybe I read it—that the opposite of love is indifference, not hate. So you probably have nothing to worry about."

Hyde's shades were in the glove box of the Camino. He wanted them on his face, and he needed Penny out of his face. "What do you want?" he said. "For me to slip up so you can go off and 'tattle' to Jackie You'll have to get your jollies off on someone else today."

"Oh, Hyde," she said as he brushed past her, "you've already gotten me off plenty. I was just curious. I'm sorry if I upset you."

He smirked. "You're not capable of that."

"Good." She stepped close to him again, too close. Her breath agitated the hairs on the nape of his neck, and he felt very cold. Worse than cold, like the earth had been knocked into deep space. "Because I wouldn't want to ruin our relationship," she said. "Friends are important, especially these days."

"Yeah, right." He pulled away from her, but Penny was the farthest thing from his mind now. Jackie. He had to get to Jackie. His arms crossed over his chest in an attempt to get warm, but as he searched through the dancing crowd, he shivered.