Like that wannabe hair metal band whose name he could never remember, Johnny V believed in a thing called love. Sure, you can't measure love with a yardstick or hold it in your hand, but you can't do that with the wind either, and no one says the wind isn't real. If they did, they were dumb and probably thought they could sail off the edge of the world too. Believing that the world is flat is kind of fringe, you know? Believing that love isn't real, on the other hand, is a little more mainstream. In his aimless rambles across the internet, looking for cool things to watch, read, or listen to, Johnny encountered many people who thought love was fake. There were entire message boards where lonely and embittered incels dunked on women all day long, calling them names that made Johnny blush; women who wanted you to join their OnlyFans and only saw you as a dollar sign; guys who just wanted some "play" and would do or say anything to get it; ladies who wanted a man to take care of them; Asexuals who gagged at the very thought of physical intimacy; and warring factions of dudes and chicks who were always angry at the opposite sex, women saying men were trash because some punk broke their heart and men who said women were cheap and petty because they got turned down for being thirty-five and living with their mom and dad.

You know...come to think of it, it was less about people not believing in love and more about people forgetting how to love. Take a look around you right this very second. Twitter, 4chan, the mainstream media - everyone's hating on each other, right? Johnny didn't know why, but it seemed like modern westerners needed to be peed off all the time. If they weren't seething like a bunch of idiots, they weren't happy. Like, wow, chill out, why you gotta be at each other's throats all the time?

Part of the problem was good old fashioned bigotry. Google defines "bigotry" as: obstinate or unreasonable attachment to a belief, opinion, or faction; in particular, prejudice against a person or people on the basis of their membership of a particular group. Tell me bigotry isn't a massive problem. Go on, do it. Democrats are bigoted against Republicans, Millenials are bigoted against Baby Boomers, some whites are bigoted against blacks, some blacks are bigoted against whites, men against women, women against men - man, it never ends. One time Johnny posted his opinion about the remake of The Stand on YouTube ("Man, they botched this bad. Zero stars"). Some woman replied to him calling him a cis-het straight privledged white male or something. Like, uh...what does that have to do with this movie sucking? Also, I'm not even fully white. Wtf? Another time, he posted that The Waltons was a lame show, and some dude accused him of being a "hood rat" who didn't understand "wholesome entertainment. It's all guns and bling with you people"). Really?

The modern world ran on hatred, it seemed, so Johnny couldn't blame the people who dismissed love as phony. If you're glued to your phone or television set all the time, you see so little of it. Sex sells, but hate and fear sell ten times as much, so duh, they're going to cram it down your throat like Freddy Krueger force feeding that one chick her own guts. Who benefits from people being scared and angry? Not you and I, that's for sure.

But anyway, if you put your phone down, walk outside, and interact with people face to face, you realize something. Love, in all its many forms, is still alive and well. Black people and white people might be trippin on Twitter, but in Royal Woods, everyone got along and respected each other. The church on Maple Ave fed the homeless; black dudes in snapback and skinny jeans helpd little old white ladies cross the street; Asiain and Hispanic kids played together like the skin color of their payments didn't even matter (gasp, ignoring race is racist!); Dad cuddled his Stone Cold plush every night in bed; and, of course, lovebirds held hands and strolled through the park like they had since time out of mind.

Romantic love isn't the easiest thing to come by, but Johnny saw no shortage of it in his daily life. His parents weren't kissy kissy lovey dovey, but you could see the love in their eyes when they looked at one another. Lincoln and Maggie were the same way; they looked so happy together that it almost made Johnny want his own goff gurl.

Almost.

Yeah, some people didn't believe in love, but how, Johnny couldn't say. It was all around you; all you had to do was open your eyes.

Of all the lovers he knew or knew of, none were as visible as Mr. and Mrs. Loud. If Public Displays of Affection was an Olympic sport, they'd bring home the gold every year. Three or four nights a week, Johnny be-bopped over to the Loud house so that he and Mr. Loud could get their cook on, and barely five minutes went by where Mr. and Mrs. Loud weren't being mushy gushy. She'd come in to get a drink, walk over to Mr. Loud, and give him an Eskimo kiss; he'd walk up and hug her from behind; and both of them called each other embarrassing pet names. "You're my pooky-wooky-snooky sugar bear," Mr. Loud would say, and how Mrs. Loud would blush. She'd call him "my big strong man" and clap when he flexed. Herculynn, Herculynn. They made kissy faces, held hands, patted each other's butts, and generally made fools of themselves. But they were happy fools, so who was Johnny to judge? People ranked on him for wearing a paper bag over his head and he hated it; what right did he have to revoke Mr. Loud's man card for calling his wife "booger sugar"?

In fact, stepping back and looking at it from afar, Johnny was kind of impressed by their continual sappiness. Mr. Loud once told him that he and Mrs. Loud had been together for twenty years, married and living together for eighteen of them. They grew up in the same neighborhood in Elk Park and were friends from first or second grade. That's a good thirty-some years, and even after all that time they were still madly in love. Johnny was young and therefore couldn't even begin to fathom such an impossibly vast amount of time as thirty years, but he imagined if you were around someone every single day for three decades, you'd get so sick of them you'd puke at the very mention of their name. Johnny was like that with Lincoln: If they didn't have time apart, Johnny would go freaking nuts. Mr. and Mrs. Loud weren't like that. They were like two teenagers who couldn't get enough of each other. Johnny didn't know how they did it, but they did, and in the end, it was kind of inspiring. In fact, they were sort of cute in a so bad it's good kind of way.

He also gave them points for annoying their kids. The Loud girls were loud, rude, pushy, and irritating, especially the younger ones - each of them from Lucy on down to Lily had a crush on Johnny and tried to put the moves on him every time he showed his face. Their parents' behavior mortified them. Get a room! Lori yelled. Gross! Luan cried and stuck out her tongue. Not so rockin', man, Luna had (probably) uttered once or twice. Johnny found amusement in their humiliation. Ha, your parents are dorks, what now?

*Remembers Dad shouting and jumping for joy when The Ultimate Warrior ripped open the cage at Fall Brawl '98*

Okay. Your parents are dorks too. Still, at least Dad didn't slobber all over the TV and give it nose kissies every time his favorite wrestler showed up.

One afternoon in early February, Johnny was walking home from school with Lincoln and Ronnie Anne when he got a text from Mr. Loud. Can you come over? I need to talk to you. It was Thursday, and he and Mr. Loud didn't usually hang on Thursdays. Johnny didn't know why. It was one of those traditions that just come about. They couldn't cook every day and Thursday was as good a day as any to give it a rest.

"Who was that, Lame-O?" Ronnie asked.

The best word Johnny could come up with to describe Ronnie Anne Santiago was "frenemy." She used to pick on them way back in the day (like, eight months ago) and somewhere along the way, they all got used to each other and developed the kind of warped affection and grudging respect for one another that a general might feel for a worthy opponent.

Up until last month, RA lived with her CNA mother in a dumpy apartment in a rough section of town. In December, her grandfather died and her mom wound up with a surprisingly large inheritance which she used to buy a car and a little house a couple blocks from Lincoln and Johnny's. Since she was so close, they saw a lot more of her.

Oh joy.

"No one, lamette," Johnny retorted. He was a sensitive boy and being called "lame-o" all day was starting to get under his skin, so he decided to see how RA liked being called names. How does your own medicine taste, Ronnie? HOW DOES IT TASTE?

From her reaction - or lack thereof - it didn't taste like anything. "It was someone alright, lame-o. Was it your boyfriend, Chaz?"

Johnny cringed. "That fat kid who works at Burpin' Burger?"

"I hear he likes little brown boys," Ronnie Anne teased.

"That's why he likes you," Johnny said. "Cuz he thinks you're a boy."

Ronnie Anne stopped and motioned Johnny to come closer. Tense, expecting a slap to the face, he did. She leaned into his ear and whispered, "I am. My name is really Ron."

Crying out in revulsion, Johnny jumped back, tripped over his own feet, and fell to the sidewalk in a heap. Ronnie Anne threw her head back and laughed, her hands holding her stomach as if to keep her guts from spilling out. Johnny glared up at her and she twisted the metaphorical knife by brushing an imaginary tear from her face. "You should see the look on your face."

She shook her head and walked off, joining Lincoln, who hadn't stopped with them. Johnny got up, dusted himself off, and shook his fist at Ronnie Anne's back, "You scumbag!"

"That's Mr. Scumbag to you," she shouted over her shoulder, and launched into another peal of demented laughter.

What a weirdo. Being ladyboi is not something you joke about. It's, like, offensive and inconsiderate. To be fair, though, inconsiderate was Ronnie Anne's middle name.

He had better things to do than fart around with her anyway.

Like seeing what Mr. Loud wanted.

At the end of the street, Johnny turned onto Franklin and crossed to the other side. Mr. Grouse, the neighbor's designated Grumpy Old Man, puttered around his yard with a garden hose in one hand and the other pressed flat against the small of his back. He reminded Johnny of someone and it took him a minute to figure out who: Mrs. Loud when she was pregnant with Lily. She used to do that hand-to-back thing all the time. She said carrying a baby made her muscles hurt, but Johnny thought she was just being a drama queen: Dad was waaaay fatter than she was and it didn't seem to bother him.

Cold wind swept down the street and Johnny shivered. The barren tree branches knocked forlornly together and the power lines danced crazily.

"Don't even think about it, Vaselinez," Mr. Grouse said. He watched Johnny with the suspicion of a dog afraid of someone else moving in on his dinner.

Johnny's brow furrowed. "Think about what?"

"Cutting across my yard."

Johnny was in the middle of the sidewalk, nowhere near Mr. Grouse's lawn.

"Uh...okay."

"I'm watching you."

Ignoring him, Johnny crossed the Louds' driveway and went up to the door. He rang the bell and Mr. Loud appeared. "Oh, hi, Johnny," he said and stepped aside. "We were waiting for you."

The Loud girls were all shoved up on the couch. "Take a seat."

Johnny wedged himself into a tiny crack between Luan and Lori. Mr. and Mrs. Loud stood before them, arms around each other's waists. "So...what's this about?" Johnny asked. "Did someone die?"

He was only half joking. They clearly had some kind of announcement to make; you don't just gather the whole fan-damly together for nothing. What Johnny couldn't figure out, though, was where he came in. The last he knew, he was not a Loud. There was little chance of his having been switched with Lynn at birth as Mr. and Mrs. Loud were both white. Johnny was mixed. That proved that Dad was, well, his dad. He supposed Mrs. Loud could be his birth mother, but Mom probably would have said something by now. Or maybe -

Mr. Loud cut him off. "Your mother and I have decided to renew our wedding vows." He squeezed Mrs. Loud's hand, and they smiled at each other.

Like the girls they were, the Loud kids all went awwww.

"Uh...so she's my mom?" Johnny asked. Again, he wasn't entirely kidding.

Mr. Loud looked at him like he just said NASA could travel to the sun - if they did it at night. "No," he said at length. "You're here because I want you to be my best man."

Wow.

That was unexpected. He and Mr. Loud were tight and all, but Johnny never in a million years would have imagined they were "be my best man" tight.

"This is literally the greatest thing ever," Lori said. An idea seemed to strike her, and her eyes widened. "You should let us plan it."

Mr. and Mrs. Loud both started to say no - you could see it in their eyes - but suddenly everyone was talking excitedly over each other. Johnny didn't know what exactly renewing one's vows entailed, but Mr. Loud had entrusted him with the role of best man, and for that, he was down to help out.

"Alright, alright," Mrs. Loud said and raised her hand. "You can plan the ceremony."

Everyone high-fived.

"You have two days."

Freeze frame.

"What?" Lori asked.

"We're doing it on Sunday," Mrs. Loud said.

Johnny and the Loud girls looked at each other...then jumped up and rushed off to begin their preparations. Luna shoved Luan out of the way, Leni and Lori scrambled over one another to be the first one upstairs, and Lucy jumped onto Lynn's back to keep her from getting ahead. Mr. Loud facepalmed and Mrs. Loud rolled her eyes as if to say I knew this would happen.

To be fair, Johnny should have known too. The Loud sisters were basically a live action version of Mad Max: Fury Road 24/7. You should see them trying to brush their teeth at night. For whatever reason, the concept of forming a neat- single file line and taking turns at the sink had never occurred to them. They all crowded around at one time and wound up jostling for position...which usually turned into a knock down, drag out fights that made the Tupelo concession stand brawl look like a Sunday school picnic. Johnny rubbed the back of his neck and watched them claw, kick, spit, and hiss. If he waded into the fray, his paper bag was history. "I'll...come back tomorrow," he said and got out of there.

Outside he puffed his chest proudly out. Bag-hat intact.

As if accepting his challenge, a gust of wind ripped the bag from his head and blew it away. Screaming, he ran after it, but stopped and slumped his shoulders when it got caught it and tree, the branches cutting it to ribbons.

Fine, he thought sullenly and went home.

Stupid wind.


The next day after school, Johnny, Lincoln, and Ronnie Anne met the Loud sisters in the backyard of 1216 Franklin Avenue. Lori stood there with a clipboard in her hands and a pencil behind one ear, and the others buzzed around like worker ants, each busy with their own little projects. Luan and Luna set up folding chairs facing the stockade fence, Lana built a garden arch out of wood and metal, Lola directed a couple of overall-clad workmen carrying a piano, Lucy and Lisa unfolded a wooden table, and Lynn strung flowery garland looking stuff along the fence. Lily stood next to her and hit the fence with both hands, so excited by all the activity that she bounced and shook her diapered butt. "We're here," Johnny said to Lori. "What can we do?"

Lori scanned the clipboard. "Leni needs help with the clothes, Lana could use a hand, and, uh…" she pursed her lips in thought. "Oh, the catering. Someone needs to go pick it up."

Now, when Lori said "catering" Johnny naturally pictured trays of snacks and stuff professionally prepared by a deli or something. That, however, was not the case. After their epic fight, the Loud girls had a sister meeting and agreed to pool all of them money to make the ceremony happen. After buying all of the materials they needed, they had very little left over. They had to skimp somewhere, so they did it on the food. Lori handed Johnny a twenty dollar bill and a list of. "Go to Meijer's and get this stuff."

Lunch meat, white bread, Saltines, Kool-Aid mix.

Johnny lifted his brow. "You're really trying to feed your parents some ghetto food?"

"We have no other option, Johnny," Lori snapped defensively.

"Yes, we do," Johnny said and shoved the list into his pocket. "I know a guy. Just leave it up to me."

While Lincoln helped Lana and Ronnie Anne went inside to assist Leni, Johnny walked back home, got on the computer, and looked up GREENMAN'S DELI. Greenman's Deli, conveniently located in Elk Park near Exit 3, did not cater events, but the owner, Mr. Greenman owed Johnny a favor. Johnny studied the online menu then called on his cell. "Mr. Greenman," he said, "it's Johnny."

"Johnny!" Mr. Greenman cried happily. "How are you? It's been forever."

"I'm good, Mr. Greenman," Johnny said. "I need a favor."

"Anything you want. Just name it."

Johnny told him what he needed and Mr. Greenman wrote it down. "I tell you what," the old Jew said. "I'll only charge you for the food itself and because you saved my business, I'll discount it." He quoted Johnny a price that made his wallet groan in pain. It was doable, though.

"Thank you, Mr. Greenman, I really appreciate it."

Hanging up, Johnny returned to the Loud house. Twilight lay heavy over the world and the last weak rays of sun drained rapidly from the pink and purple sky. Lana and Lincoln had dug a shallow trench, roughly an inch deep, from the back porch to the arch, which Lynn, Luan, and Luna were currently in the process of decorating with flowers. A pallet of stones sat neatby, and Johnny surmised that she planned to line the trench with them, making a stylish walkway. He sought out Lori, found her, and said, "Alright, catering's taken care of. It'll be here Sunday morning."

"Awesome," Lori said, relieved. "One less thing I have to worry about."

Shortly thereafter, they broke for the day. "I wanna get an early start tomorrow," Lori said. "We have one more day to get everything done so we gotta hustle."

The next morning, Johnny and Lincoln went over to the Loud house at half past eight. The biggest thing left to do was finish the walkway. Johnny attached a cart to the back of his bike, went down to the 84 Lumber yard off the interstate, and picked up a load of gravel. The bike squeaked, bent, and moaned under the added weight and pedaling was difficult. By the time he got back, Johnny's legs screamed in pain and electric spasms shot through his lower back.

Lincoln, Lana, Lynn, and Luna tipped the cart over and dumped the gravel into the trench. "Alright," Lana said. "One more load."

WHAT?

The second time was harder than the first, and when he got back, Johnny collapsed and laid on the ground in a broken, panting heap.

Lana and Lincoln spread the gravel from one end of the trench to the other, then began laying the stones.

For most of the day, Johnny served as errand boy, running to the store whenever anyone needed anything. He spent an hour at the craft store gathering supplies for Leni, then raced to the hardware store for Lana. At sundown, he was sweaty and exhausted, but the job was done. Flowers adorned the fence and the arch, the stone walkway looked fantastic, and the tables and chairs were all set up.

Tomorrow was going to be great.


At 9am, Lincoln and Johnny went over to the Loud house. Even though it was early, it was abuzz with activity. Leni sized them up for their suits and then made a few alterations. "You guys are, like, taller than you were last time," Leni said.

"We are?" Lincoln asked hopefully. He loved the idea of being tall.

"Yeah...by two full centimeters."

He sagged.

Mr. Greeman showed up an hour later with trays of food and a massive three-tier cake with a candy bride and groom on top. A short, chubby man with glasses and frizzy red hair that made him look like Larry from The 3 Stooges, Mr. Greenman dapped Johnny up. "Buttercream frosting," he said of the cake, "the best."

"It looks great," Johnny said. "You wanna hang around?"

Mr. Greenman shook his head. "Sorry, Johnny, not to today. I'm catering a party for the boys manning the Jewish space laser."

Johnny blinked. "Jewish space laser?"

"It's a joke about that...nevermind."

The ceremony began at noon. Lincoln, the Loud sisters, Maggie, Ronnie Anne, Stella, Liam, SId, Mom, Dad, and friends of Mr. and Mrs. Loud whom Johnny did not know packed into the back yard. Luna sat at the piano and serenaded the congregation with a lively rendition of Shake Ya A** by Mystikal, Dad stood by the snack table and shamelessly crammed handfuls of food into his mouth while Mom shook her head in embarrassment (yo, did he really have to drape a toy AEW TNT TV Title over his shoulder?), and Maggie and Lincoln held hands and giggled at each other like little girls. They were probably talking about their own future wedding or something.

As best man, it was Johnny's duty to stand in front of the arch and twiddle his thumbs while waiting for Mr. and Mrs. Loud. Father O'Leary from St. Mark's stood beneath the arch and glanced occasionally at his watch, impatience radiating from him in waves. Hurry up, I have a bris to do later. Or was bris even Catholic? Johnny didn't know. His ol' black grandma was a Baptist and that was the only denomination he knew anything about. Black people get down in church, white people just kind of sit there.

Finally, Luna stuck up some song that wasn't Here Comes the Bride and Johnny looked up, Mr. and Mrs. Loud came down the walkway arm in arm, Mr. Loud in a suit and Mrs. Loud in a blue dress. Johnny was expecting a vail and a trane, you know, the whole nine yards.

They stood in front of Father O'Leary, and he read from the Bible. Johnny didn't pay very much attention; he didn't eat breakfast, and right about now, that snack tray was looking really good.

After Father O'Leary was finished, Mr. and Mrs. Loud held hands, gazed into each other's eyes, and recited their own vows. Mr. Loud went first. "Rita...you mean the world to me and I fall in love with you a little more every day. I love and cherish you and everything about you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

Johnny's stomach rumbled and Father O'Leary shot him a dirty look.

"Lynn, you and our family make each day special. We've had our ups and downs over the years, but even my worst day with you is better than my best day without you. I love you now more than ever and I want everyone to know it."

They kissed to thunderous applause, and Johnny took the opportunity to join Dad at the snack table.

Who knew helping your middle aged neighbor renew his vows could be such hungry work?