Thaddeus looked up at me now with a boyish smile, and I locked eyes with him, the nearby disco ball making his dark eyes sparkle. I could see that he was practically panting now, just as I was, his shoulders noticeably rising and falling. He cleared his throat before speaking.
"So, I've, uh, been thinking about how and when to do this," he said in a gruff voice, "and I thought—"
"Is this the man you've been fornicating with in public?" a sharp voice squawked, interrupting Harris and making him jerk involuntarily. My head instantly shot up, and I saw my crochety old Aunt Madelon glaring down at us disapprovingly, her bony little frame practically doubled over Harris's kneeling form. She was dripping in diamonds and wore a real fox fur stole over her shoulders, her skinny legs looking like overcooked sausages in their black hosiery.
"What?"
"Is this that Thaddeus Harris fellow?" she said, gesturing at him with her cane. "I saw him on the news some weeks back."
"This is my boyfriend, Thaddeus Harris," I replied, scowling right back at her. I could see Harris roll his eyes with exasperation and rise back off his knee, putting the box back in his jacket pocket. As he stood up, he practically knocked her over, making her take several teetering steps backward.
"Watch where you're going, Mister!" she squawked again. "Do you have any idea who I am?"
"This is my aunt," I said to Harris with a sigh, gesturing at his seat. I could hear him sigh in turn as he sat back down, responding to the rude interruption.
"I'm so disappointed in you, April," Aunt Madelon remarked, her cane waving again. "You knew this wedding was coming and you went out and degraded yourself over and over again with this man. And kissing on the dance floor just now? Pah. Such low class. Why are you trying so hard to humiliate your sister, your family name?"
I stood up now, balling my fists. Did she not know about Larry's indictment?
"Maybe you should talk to Larry—"
"And not only that, but you chose to cavort with a crooked police officer, at that." Her spiteful gaze turned to Thaddeus, who rolled his eyes yet again.
Again her cane shook at him.
"Don't think I didn't see you on TV admitting to doing all those awful things, Mister," she snapped. "You are what is wrong with the police, why that lovely old man—Lassard, is it?—was hospitalized. I'll bet it's why the reporters are all over the place tonight. And you even had the nerve to drive that defiled sportscar—"
"The press isn't here for us, Ma'am," Harris cut in. "Now, I suppose you chose to ignore the news that the groom was recently indicted for several felonies, including stealing from his own business. Pretty sure he's got me beat for being crooked. A woman and two children were shot because of him."
"Pish posh," she barked. "Larry's a good boy—unlike Miss Carnegie here, who has always been a—"
"Does the new Mrs. Allen know her new husband is a criminal?" Harris cut in. He placed a hand on his chest. "I did, which is how these charges even came to light. Guess she won't have to testify against him, now that they're married. Don't worry, though; I'm sure they'll be enough evidence to put him away."
Now Aunt Madelon was frozen in place, her face twisted in confusion.
"Are you saying, these indictments are because of you?"
"Well, the indictments are because of what he did, but I was the one to submit the initial evidence of it and launch the official investigation," Harris remarked, giving her a snarky grin. All she could do was gasp and then shuffle away just as a new slow song began playing, "I'll Stand By You" by the Pretenders.
"Maybe we should go now," I muttered, clenching my teeth as I watched old Aunt Madelon shuffle right past the dance floor, probably making a beeline for the head table. "I think this is going to get bad."
"I was just about to do something," Harris said, "but that asshole had to come over and wreck it for me. Just one more dance and then we'll head out; that work?"
I did really like this song, which was a big hit this year. The singer spoke of how she would never desert her man or let him be hurt. In fact, it was one of the few songs I'd bought on CD. Maybe we'd have a couple of minutes to restore the mood again, to see if Thaddeus was actually planning on proposing to me.
"Do you think we have time?" I said.
"We've already missed the first thirty seconds of the song," he said impatiently. With that, Harris stood up, taking my hand in his and leading me to the dance floor. The song was now on the first chorus and I wrapped my arms around Harris's shoulders once again and sang the lyrics aloud to him, beginning at the part where the singer admitted to getting angry too and being a lot like her lover. It was very fitting. As I sang to Thaddeus, I pulled him in close once again, trying to forget that my Aunt Madelon was on her way to telling Larry and the rest of them what Harris had said. We swayed back and forth to the song's lyrics, keeping to the center of the dance floor in the hope that no one could get to us. I had to soak up this moment, because as soon as my aunt told Larry and Angie what we'd said, there'd be hell to pay.
"Were you doing what I think you were doing back there?" I said, in between verses. Harris stopped swaying for a moment, pulling back so he could look me in the eye.
"Yeah, I think," he said carefully. "Would you, uh, like if I did that again?"
"You mean, right now?" I asked over the music. His eyebrows went up and suddenly he was back on his knee again. Apparently, the loud music had made it hard to tell that I was only asking him a question. I gaped down at Harris as he took out a small box, his body surrounded on all sides by the dancing couples around us. The music ended just as he opened the box, revealing a ring.
"Finally. Here, let me try this again," he muttered, taking a deep breath. "April Carnegie, would you marry me?"
I gaped down at him and his earnest face, ready to give him an answer, and suddenly there was a blur of black and Harris was splayed out on the ground face-first, letting out a high-pitched yelp as someone presumably shoved him over. The blur stood up, and I could see now that it was Larry Allen himself.
"Shit—I dropped the box!" Thaddeus exclaimed, now on all fours as he searched the floor. Larry towered above him, reaching down and snatching Harris's gun from its holster. I could see that in his other hand, Larry was holding the cake knife. The time to cut the cake wasn't even here yet; had he been planning on stabbing Harris?
"You telling me you were the one to start all this shit!?" Larry roared, glaring down at Harris, a knife in one hand and a gun in another. Only the people directly around us could see what was going on, and in fact, several seated people were now tapping their glasses with their spoons to get Angie and Larry to kiss. "Get up and face me like a man, Harris."
Thaddeus did not reply because he was still distracted by the loud music and by his looking for what I assumed was the ring box. I could see Angie running down from the head table now, her face filled with fear. Though, rather than run to Larry and tell him to back off, she ran over to the DJ and told him something.
"Leave him alone!" I yelled at Larry. I now wished I had brought my own gun to this wedding, or at the very least, a pair of handcuffs.
"This isn't about you," Larry snapped back, as I looked down to see that Harris was crawling off to another section of the dance floor to look.
"Time to cut the cake!" the DJ announced, beginning to play "Pour Some Sugar On Me," and now I saw Larry rolling his eyes, tucking the gun into his tuxedo pants.
"Get the hell out of my way!" Harris hissed, smacking stragglers on the leg to clear them off the dance floor as he continued crawling around on hands and knees, the black box apparently nowhere to be found. "This is an official police search!"
Now that there were less people on the dance floor, I could see that Larry had now pulled the gun back out of his pants and was aiming it at Thaddeus!
"Larry, what in the world are you doing?" Angie cried. "Is that a fake gun?"
"Cake-cutting time!" the DJ boomed again. I had no gun or weapon of any kind, and my new brother-in-law had a gun aimed at my boyfriend; was there anything I could use to disarm Larry? I thought back to one of our last exercises we'd had at the academy, in which we used items around us to defend and protect ourselves. The cake table was directly behind me, with three tiers of white cake supported on shiny metal trays, small white columns separating the tiers.
"He's got a gun!" someone yelled. Even over the music, I could hear people talking amongst themselves, probably with confusion due to this high-class wedding turning into an episode of the Jerry Springer show.
"Who's got a gun?" I heard several people saying. "The cop?" More and more people fled the dance floor, running to hide behind something.
Both of my parents were now standing up at their table, looking alarmed at the unfolding scene. Many of the other wedding guests ducked behind the tables, or were hiding behind the DJ booth. I saw Alice watching us from behind the gift table, and my brother Joe and his wife under a cookie table. Many others had since fled the hall. It was complete chaos.
I leapt toward the cake table, grabbing the top tray of cake and snatching it off the tower. Cake flew everywhere as the columns under it collapsed onto the tier below. I used my hand to shove much of the cake off the tray so that I could actually hold it. Thankfully because of Angie's steel theme, the tray was solid and most likely made of stainless steel. In my other hand, I grabbed the cake server.
"Pour Some Sugar On Me" continued to play as I went back to the dance floor. Harris had finally located the box and was shoving it back into his pocket when Larry put the barrel of the gun right against the back of his head. "It's Larry!" someone yelled. Several people screamed but no one made a move. I very slowly moved off the dance floor, slipping off my noisy heels as I moved up behind Larry quickly with the cake server tucked high under my arm, spilling pieces of cake on both my own head and his as I brought the stainless-steel cake tray down onto the top of Larry's head.
"You bitch!" Larry yelled, staggering forward at the contact, the gun flying out of his hand. Thaddeus was just starting to stand up when he saw his gun slide across the dance floor. He dove for the gun, just as Larry dove for it, cake knife in hand. The table nearest the dance floor had toppled over from the stampeding crowd.
"Watch out!" I screamed, grabbing a metal centerpiece from the floor by the overturned table. I slid it toward Harris, who grabbed the metal sculpture and used it to parry Larry's knife thrusts. Harris was now on his back on the dance floor, the metal sculpture being held in front of his face and chest, with Larry on his knees above him, holding the knife above his head like a madman.
My sister Angie had since picked up the gun and I ran up behind Larry, bringing the cake tray down onto his head again. Larry jumped to his feet and spun to face me, swinging the knife at me as I deflected it with the tray shield.
"Larry, stop this!" Angie screamed, standing with the gun in front of the fuzzy navel fountain. "What are you doing?!"
Now Larry turned to face his wife, his hair covered in white icing. His hand holding the knife dropped to his side and I let out an audible sigh of relief.
"Did you know that your sister's boyfriend was the one to turn me in?" Larry said, approaching Angie now. "The guy who can't even do his own job?"
"I don't know; I'd say I did it pretty well, in your case," Harris said, now standing back up and smiling cockily, clutching the metal sculpture in his hand. "Do you want to know how I knew? Not only do I have a sixth sense for crime, but what really tipped me off was—"
"Shut up," Larry spat, and with that, he held out his hand to his new bride. "Give me the gun, Angie," he hissed.
"No! You're not going to shoot them!" she said, pulling it away from him. "What are you thinking?!" Larry rolled his eyes, looking toward the head table, where his two standard poodles were sitting.
"Trixie! Dixie! Sic 'em!" Larry yelled, pointing at Harris. My eyes went wide; was no one going to stop this?
Both poodles stood up and began viciously tugging at their leashes, pulling over the head table with one loud crash and rushing toward the dance floor with leashes dragging behind them. Harris already had his hands up, and the first poodle lunged at him and got a mouth full of the twisted metal centerpiece. The second poodle went around the back of Harris and it sunk its teeth into his leg, making him yowl in pain. I lifted the tray above my head and hit the poodle on Harris's leg again and again, but it didn't seem to be having any effect on the dog.
"The disco ball, Carnegie!" Harris yelped, his wincing face aimed straight up above us. The ball was rather big and was hanging just above the poodle clamped on Harris's leg. How in the world was I supposed to knock that down? I looked at the cake server in my hand, which was dull. I then ran my finger along the edge of the cake tray, finding it to be surprisingly sharp. As the poodles continued to attack Harris, I sprinted off the dance floor and held the cake tray like a frisbee, sending it flying towards the wire holding the disco ball.
I had done it! Harris jumped out of the way just as the disco ball came plummeting down on the dance floor, shattering into a thousand pieces of shiny metal. The sound and the instant destruction of the heavy ball frightened Trixie and Dixie, who had since stopped attacking Harris and were now running at full speed out of the hall. I ran over to Harris and could see that his leg was bleeding, in addition to small cuts on his hands from the shattered disco ball. The DJ had since stopped the music, and now all that could be heard was the sound of nervous whispers and Harris's high-pitched breaths of pain.
"Are you okay?" I said. "You're bleeding!"
"It only hurts like hell," he muttered. "Should've left sooner, like you said. Not to mention, that asshole dog ripped my pants. You know how expensive this tux was?"
I looked over toward where Larry had been standing, to see that he was now gone. Angie was still standing there holding the gun, and my parents had since gone over to her. Was Larry looking for another weapon?
"Angie!" I yelled. "Call 911! This has to stop!"
"Okay!" she yelled back. She turned to the bartender but soon let out a scream as Larry reappeared, now holding the boxes from the gift table and the humane society donation table in his hands. He viciously snatched the gun from Angie and gave her a shove toward the exit.
"We're going on our honeymoon now," Larry announced. "Party's over, everyone! Don't forget to take along your wedding favors!"
"But you won't even tell me where we're going," Angie yelped back, resisting him. "You said it was supposed to be a surprise."
"I can tell you now: Cuba!" Larry boomed back.
"No extradition agreement with the United States," Harris murmured to me out of the corner of his mouth. My eyes went wide. So Larry had had a plan to escape justice all along.
"Don't make me carry you over the threshold," Larry snapped, struggling to hold the boxes, the gun, and to push his wife along. "And knock out the innocent act; you never even questioned me when I told you that that Tingler guy had nothing to do with it."
Her eyes went wide and I could see that Angie was now crying, big clumps of mascara running down her face; she almost looked a bit like Brookstone, except with auburn hair.
"Leave her alone!" my parents yelled, taking several steps toward the new couple. "Let her go!" My other siblings were also clustered around my parents, yelling toward the departing pair.
"How can we stop him?" I asked Harris. "He's gonna take my sister to Cuba!"
"Well, he's got a gun and we don't, but at least those hellhounds are gone."
My niece Jennifer, the first relative I'd spoken to today, suddenly appeared from out of nowhere and shoved the wheeled Andrew Carnegie ice sculpture toward Angie and Larry, Angie screaming as the giant hunk of ice toppled off of its cart, shattering on the ground by their feet and sending slippery ice shards in every direction. Larry almost dropped the boxes he was holding but stood defiantly in front of the open bar.
"Isn't there anything we could use to stop him?" I said, looking around. Harris and I were still on the dance floor, closest to a table with a big unopened bottle of champagne sitting on it, several plates of cookies on the table.
"I got an idea," he said, smirking.
Still limping from his dog bite, Harris went over to the table and snatched the champagne bottle. I grabbed several plates of cookies. I could see Harris peeling the foil away from the bottle as we watched my sister Alice attempt to approach the couple, only to be shooed back by Larry's gun.
Larry and Angie were now mere steps away from leaving the reception hall, Larry's revolver now aimed at my sister Angie, and Harris and I moved along the side wall until we were roughly across the width of the hall from them, watching them struggle to walk on the dangerously slippery floor.
"Stop right there!" Harris bellowed, and now Larry's gun was aimed at us.
"Ha! What are you gonna do with that?" Larry said, laughing at pointing at the champagne. "You gonna send us off with a toast?"
"Exactly," Harris snarled, violently shaking the champagne bottle before holding it like a rifle. As Larry laughed once again, Angie attempted to run and promptly slipped and fell onto the ground, only increasing Larry's maniacal laughter. Now that Angie was out of the way, Harris ripped off the cage of the bottle, sending the cork skyrocketing right into Larry's forehead, along with a geyser of champagne.
Larry staggered backward into the fuzzy navel fountain behind him and fell hard onto his backside, the gift boxes breaking open and gun flying out of his hand. Dozens of envelopes and cards scattered across the wet floor, ice, water, champagne, and fuzzy navel everywhere as Larry yelled in pain. Angie grabbed the gun once again and pulled herself back to her feet, distancing herself from Larry as she rejoined our parents and siblings.
Now we watched a soaking wet Larry on his hands and knees, attempting to pick up the envelopes and shove them into his cummerbund. Harris reached behind me and jerked the metal tinsel decoration off the wall, winding it around his hand. I made a face of confusion as Harris stepped toward Larry now, winding more and more of the tinsel onto his hand.
"Larry Allen, you are hereby under arrest," Harris said, holding out his other hand toward Angie as she brought him his gun. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can—"
"Taking that money was no crime," Larry growled, continuing to pick up limp orange envelopes and soggy cash. "I had every intention of putting it back, with interest!"
"And yet, three people were shot because of you," Harris snapped right back.
"That trigger-happy cop's mistake has nothing to do with me!" Larry said. "It's my company and I can do anything I want with it!"
"And yet, you've got some brand-new charges coming your way," Harris snapped. "Let's see: attempted murder, attempted kidnapping, assault with a deadly weapon, not to mention a shitload of evidence of your previous crime—I imagine those are envelopes of laundered money you're busy shoving in your pants. Hands up, where I can see them."
As Harris approached Larry, he inadvertently slipped on a big piece of ice; I screamed out as Harris's feet went out from underneath him, causing him to land hard on his back. Larry lunged at the winded Harris, slugging him hard in the face as they wrestled for control of the gun. I crumbled some lemon poppyseed cookies in my hand and joined the fray, pushing myself into the fight and shoving the cookie crumbs into Larry's eyes.
"Ahh! It burns!" he screamed. As Larry covered his eyes with his hands, Harris used the tinsel to tie Larry's wrists together, quickly winding the shiny material over the wrists until Larry's hands turned bright red, and tying it off with a knot. Now that Larry's hands were tied, Harris was able to gain control of the gun once again and my family helped both him and me back to our feet.
"Freeze! This is the police!"
Wide-eyed, Harris and I turned toward the entrance to the reception hall to find Commandant Mahoney, Officer Zed, and Lieutenant Hooks. Apparently the bartender had called the police when Angie had spoken to him just before Larry came back with the boxes; what a relief! I could see their eyes go wide at the utter chaos inside the hall. Nearly half of the tables had been flipped over, there was a huge slippery orangey mess containing scattered ice chunks in front of the open bar, the head table was lying on its side, a broken fuzzy navel fountain was in pieces on the floor, the cake table was smattered in cake and missing its top tier, and the dance floor was covered in pieces of disco ball. Not only that, but the hall now smelled strongly of orange juice, peaches, and smoke from a small tealight candle fire in front of the downed head table.
While Mahoney held his gun steady, Lieutenant Hooks approached Larry, who was still sitting on the floor, hands tied together.
"Hands up!" she commanded in a small, high-pitched voice. "You are under arrest!"
Larry laughed in her face.
"What, are you gonna shoot all the wrong people now?" he said, amazingly cool-headed even though there was no way he could escape the situation. "You cops make me sick."
"Hands up, dirtbag!" Hooks yelled, her voice suddenly loud, deep, and commanding, and Larry's hands shot up into the air, his eyes wide with surprise. Even my family jerked involuntarily at the difference in pitch and volume. Mahoney stepped forward, smiling at Thaddeus and I as Hooks proceeded to handcuff Larry a second time. Officer Zed snapped a picture of Larry on the floor with that obnoxious camera of his, the same one he'd used to take pictures of Harris and me weeks ago.
"What the hell are you doing?!" Larry said, scowling up at Zed, who had since taken two more pictures.
"That'll be two thousand dollars, please!" Zed exclaimed in his screechy voice, holding out his hand to Larry. "I take cash or personal check!" Harris and I looked at each other in confusion.
"What?" Another snapshot in his cookie-covered face, and Larry held up his hands to block the bright light of Zed's camera. "Why do you think I should pay you anything?"
"I mean, duh; I'm your new wedding photographer!"
I sat in the waiting room of the emergency department, Lieutenant Hooks by my side as I provided my statement.
"So what happened after Captain Harris slipped on the ice?" she asked sweetly, writing on a pad in her lap. Lieutenant Hooks had been surprised to know that Larry had been the one to start the fight, and she expressed her surprise at Harris's foolhardiness in attending the wedding of someone he'd personally gotten indicted. As she and I sat side by side on a waiting room couch, I made sure to tell her about the run-in with my Aunt Madelon, the fight on the dance floor, and Larry trying to take his own wife hostage. Now I was nearly finished telling Hooks about the impromptu arrest with tinsel, and yet I still hadn't heard updates regarding Thaddeus's condition.
Captain Harris had insisted that I drive to the hospital in his Corvette, rather than take an ambulance. In the fluorescent lights of the emergency department waiting room, I was able to see just how much he had been hurt. Harris had a black eye from being punched by Larry, in addition to a handful of shattered glass and a bleeding wound to his lower leg from the poodle bite. Not only that, but one pant leg of his tuxedo was completely shredded, and he was drenched in champagne, fuzzy navel, and had wedding cake in his hair.
After finishing my statement about the wedding, I then told the lieutenant how the object utilization practice that Harris had designed for us cadets had really helped in this regard, and happily enough, she agreed.
"It really is too bad that he let it go to his head," Hooks said, "because he really did have some great ideas."
"And he still has more great ideas," I said. "His giving up that job nearly killed him. I just hope that if it ever comes to it again, that he'll be able to have more support, because I think that bothered him most of all."
"Well, I, for one, fully support him," Hooks replied. "I know Captain Hightower does as well. I don't see why he couldn't be commandant again someday."
I couldn't help but smile at her statement, and as I was smiling, Thaddeus emerged from the emergency department doors looking worse for wear. On his eye, he held an ice pack, his hands were both bandaged, and there was heavy white gauze wrapped around the dog bite wound on his leg.
"Oh, Thaddeus," I said, jumping up and running over to him. I wrapped my arms around him, hearing him let out a little whimper in reply.
"Yow! Watch the arm," he grunted, as I pulled back in surprise. "They just gave me a tetanus shot there; hurts even worse than my eye!"
"Captain Harris," Lieutenant Hooks said, standing up now. "May I get your statement? I promise it won't take long."
Forty-five minutes later, and Thaddeus and I were now back at his house. I was amazed that he let me pull his precious ZR-1 into the garage, which went smoothly enough. Back in his bedroom, I helped him out of his ruined tuxedo, carefully watching his wincing face as I slid his tuxedo jacket past the tetanus shot location and over the bandages on his hands. Because he couldn't take a shower for another couple of days, I used a washcloth and soap to wipe his skin down and rid it of the smell of alcohol and orange juice. I even combed the wedding cake out of his hair.
It was nearly two in the morning when we were finally ready for bed. The news tonight had only one story running, that of the arrest of the freshly indicted, newlywed local businessman Larry Allen at his own wedding reception. We watched a video of him being loaded into Mahoney's squad car, another of Zed's camera flashes erupting in his cookie-covered face. The reporters also interviewed several members of my family as well as other guests, and Harris and I were touted as the big heroes of the night.
"Ugh, I'm gonna look like shit for the graduation ceremony tomorrow," he said, grimacing as he sat next to me on the edge of the bed. "Just look at my eye."
"Looks like a badge of honor to me," I said, giving him a kiss to the cheek. "You were so brave, and you didn't even have to fire a single shot. No casualties at all."
"Yeah; in fact, the only one that was hurt at all tonight was me," he muttered. "It all started when that asshole aunt of yours interrupted me at the table. Believe it or not, my main reason for even going to this damn wedding was to have a hell of a backdrop for what I had been about to do, and then—"
"My answer is yes," I said, turning to him and touching his bandaged hand, as he abruptly stopped talking. "You could have even asked me at the Blue Oyster Bar and my answer would have been the same," I continued.
Thaddeus was staring at me now, holding the ice pack to his bruised eye.
"Wait—you wanna answer that now, when I look like this? Don't you want it to be more… romantic?"
"I'd say it's a good a time as ever. So, yes, Thaddeus, I will marry you."
A big smile suddenly erupted on his face, and he leaned toward me for a kiss. Just as our lips touched, Harris yelped and pulled back.
"Damn tetanus vaccine!" he whimpered, using his free hand to delicately rub his upper arm. "One last parting shot."
I stood up now and Harris went wide-eyed with alarm. Maybe he thought I was angry, but I had a better plan. His eyes followed me as I walked over to his other side, sitting down on the bed on the side of his good arm.
"Here," I said, removing the ice pack from his face, my hand cradling his bruised cheek. "Let's try that kiss again."
We awoke early the next day, Thaddeus's alarm alerting us that in only two hours, the police academy graduation ceremony would be taking place. We carefully dressed and had some breakfast before I drove his Crown Vic into the police academy one final time as a cadet, watching as guests got out of their vehicles and headed for the stands that had been set up on the green. I gave Harris a little kiss, my engagement ring now on my left ring finger, as I took off jogging toward the other cadets in preparation to fall into formation in front of the stands.
As I took my place on the green, I looked up at the stand and recognized several faces in the audience. I could see Captain Tackleberry in civilian attire, for one. And oh—my parents had come to the graduation! And not only that, but I saw my sister Angie with them, having apparently not gone on her honeymoon by herself! And there was my sister Alice, and my brothers Joe and John and their spouses and children! My whole family was here to see me graduate, and instantly my eyes filled with tears. I waved at them and they waved back at me. It was surreal and completely unexpected.
In the meantime, I saw that Harris was speaking with Mahoney and Hurst by the cul-de-sac. His black eye was not as swollen as it had been just last night, but it was still quite obvious. Harris had insisted on removing the bandages on his hands, because he was certain that I'd be receiving a medal of honor today for my actions at the wedding and he wanted to have the dexterity to put it over my head.
"Hey, April," Mullers said, tapping me on the shoulder. "I saw the news this morning. So crazy—you better be receiving a medal for all that. I mean, a cake tray? A disco ball? Using a champagne bottle like a gun? Not to mention, tinsel handcuffs! You guys sure are resourceful!"
"So glad you're okay, April," Stiner added. "That looked like a crazy night. They said you two were able to arrest the guy with random stuff at the wedding, even though the bad guy had a gun."
"I'm good, though Captain Harris did get injured," I replied. "It really was a crazy night. We're really lucky we survived."
Now Stetson walked over to me, speaking in a low voice.
"Do you know Stan Pepper?" he asked, keeping his head down. I turned to look at him, my eyes wide.
"I do," I replied. "I, uh, take it that you checked out that place I told you about?"
"I did, and you weren't kidding. It's great, and Stan is the best," he said. "In fact, he called me the moment you showed up on the news and told me all about your stint at the homeless shelter. What a small world we live in!"
"We sure do," I said, seeing that Captain Callahan was now making her way to the front of us, most likely to call us to attention. Captain Hightower, Lieutenant Jones, and Lieutenant Hooks had since taken their seats in the front row of the stands. Captain Harris was still a distance away and shaking his head as he continued speaking with Mahoney, and they continued what looked like an intense conversation, even as Commandant Lassard and Commissioner Hurst joined them. I couldn't help but wonder what they were talking about, and now I could see Mahoney patting Thaddeus on the back, bringing a smile to my fiancé's face. The ceremony was due to start any minute. What was going on?
Now Captain Callahan was being called away, and we were left standing around, a disorganized mess in front of our family and friends. I could see that Callahan had joined the group with Harris, Mahoney, Hurst, and Lassard and I could see her speaking animatedly to Mahoney and to Harris in turn. Was something wrong?
Another couple of minutes passed, and Lieutenant Jones seemed to realize that someone else would need to call us cadets to attention. Making a sound like the loud screech of a chair, he got up from his seat and stood on stage in front of us.
"Ten-hut!" Jones yelled, and suddenly, all of the cadets were in our straight lines and standing at attention. I let my eyes wander towards the cul-de-sac, where Mahoney, Hurst, Lassard, Callahan, and Harris were finally walking our way. It was impossible to tell if Thaddeus was happy or sad after that long conversation, but he was holding his chin high, so maybe it hadn't been such bad news. I hoped I would soon find out.
Once everyone was seated, including Captain Harris, Commandant Lassard, and the remainder of the instructors, Commandant Mahoney was the first to speak. He warmly introduced himself and called each cadet to the stand to receive his or her paper degree and exchange a salute. At the end of the degree conferral, Commandant Lassard was invited to speak. After smiling at the enthusiastic applause he received, he began to speak.
"My name is Commandant Eric Lassard, and I am honored to present remarkable people with remarkable awards," Lassard began, looking out as us cadets. "It seems that every year, many unusual things happen. Though… perhaps in their occurring nearly every year, they may, in fact, not be considered unusual anymore, which would, in fact, make them usual occurrences… but I digress. Now, this year, there were three—or was it four?—significant events in which one or more people were in harm's way, and these individuals stepped up to the task to not only remove the threat, but to avoid any collateral damage in the meantime."
Now Lassard peered over at Mahoney with an expectant, uncertain glance and was given a double thumbs up. Looking relieved, the older man then turned back toward us cadets and proceeded to read a paper in front of him. "The events involved the disarming of a dangerous individual, the interruption of robbery in progress, a lifesaving water rescue, and the defusing of a hostage situation at two separate parties. My goodness."
With that, Lassard looked up from his paper now, smiling at us graduates. "And so, I would ask both of these individuals to step up on the stage and receive our academy's highest award, the medal of honor. The first individual to receive this award is our own Captain Thaddeus Harris. Congratulations, Captain!"
At this, Captain Harris stood up from his seat and approached the podium, bowing his head so that Lassard could put the ribbon over his neck and salute him. The cadets gave him a very respectful round of applause, probably his most enthusiastic one yet. My family went wild clapping for Captain Harris and giving him a standing ovation, leading to the entire audience standing for him, and I could see his face going red at all the attention. Surely I'd be called next and my heart began to pound. Apparently Harris would not be the one to put my medal on me; would he push Lassard aside to do it himself? I hoped not, for both our sakes.
"The second individual to receive this award is one of our very own cadets, Officer Conrad Stetson!"
Conrad made a face of surprise as I turned my head to look at him. He had, in fact, saved my life and deserved a medal. He went to the front and received a ribbon and a salute from Commandant Lassard.
"And last but certainly not least, Officer April Carnegie!"
My family erupted in applause, jumping to their feet once again as I received a standing ovation from the audience. As I approached the stage, I looked back to see that Mullers, Stetson, and many of my fellow cadets were cheering and whistling for me. I almost felt lightheaded from all the praise; this was nothing I'd ever experienced before in my life. I walked up onto the stage and Lassard put the ribbon over my neck, Harris standing only a few feet away as he smiled and clapped for me.
"Congratulations to our distinguished instructor and cadets," Lassard said, giving all of us a round of applause now. "Not to mention Captain Moses Hightower, who I've just learned is engaged to be married. Congratulations, Captain Hightower!"
The audience began to clap as Hightower's eyes went wide and face grim. Now Mahoney jumped up from his seat and moved to the podium, pulling the microphone toward his mouth.
"So sorry for the confusion," Mahoney said, as Lassard made a face of confusion. "It is in fact, our very own Captain Harris who is engaged!"
Now back in his seat, Thaddeus turned red now and his smile faded; he hadn't expected our engagement to be announced in front of everyone. He could only manage a nervous little half-smile as the cadets gave cat calls and scattered applause. Mahoney stepped back as Lassard continued to speak.
"This is… grand news indeed, Captain Harris," Lassard said, his expression still puzzled. "I'm sure that you and Captain Hightower will be very, very happy together." With that, Lassard bit his lip, and I could see now that Captain Hightower had his head down, a hand over his own face. Mahoney jumped back up to the podium once again.
"Captain Harris is, in fact, engaged to our medal of honor recipient, Officer April Carnegie," Mahoney announced. "Let's give these two lovebirds a round of applause!" I watched as my family exchanged surprised glances before applauding me and Harris. It was honestly the best response I could hope for, being as this was the first time that they'd heard it. I only wished my Aunt Madelon had been in the audience to hear it and be unable to say or do anything in reply.
"Congratulations, Sir," Mahoney said, turning around and giving Harris a smile and a wink. "I'll be waiting for my wedding invitation in the mail," he said, his words barely audible in the microphone. "I promise not to wreck the joint."
Mullers, Stiner, and Stetson had all broken their stance and were all gaping at me now. I looked back at them now with a big smile, waving my ring finger for them to see, the diamond sparkling in the sun. Mahoney had since sat back down once again to let Lassard finish his speech.
"Finally, in more serious news," Lassard continued, "as you all know, I have been the commandant of this academy for many, many years. This year, I suffered from many serious injuries, some of which persist to this day and have limited my ability to do my job properly. And so, I have finally decided to retire as Commandant of the Metropolitan Police Academy. It has been a pleasure serving you as commandant of this academy, and I will miss you all. May God bless you all and thank you very, very much."
With that, everyone gave Lassard a standing ovation once more and I could feel more tears in my eyes at the sight of not only Thaddeus Harris, but my entire family, looking my way, being so supportive of my graduation. It was the best feeling in the world.
Now Lassard sat down with a happy sigh, and Mahoney stood up and approached the podium.
"While Commandant Lassard has been healing, I have been serving as interim commandant, but the time has come for me to name new academy leadership, beginning with the class of '96. Now, this decision to choose the new leadership was not made lightly, but was made with careful thought and consideration of information gleaned from the past couple of weeks. This decision involved many talks with both the police commissioner, the mayor, and even the instructors of this academy. And so, without further ado, I want to introduce you to our two co-commandants, Commandant Thaddeus Harris and Commandant Debbie Callahan!"
Captain Callahan and Captain Harris stood up now and looked at each other as the audience cheered and the cadets applauded. Maybe that was what that final tense-looking meeting by the cul-de-sac had been about. I wondered who made the ultimate decision to pick two to serve, and couldn't wait for the ceremony to be over so I could talk to Thaddeus about it.
Callahan and Harris came up to the podium and stood side by side, pleased smiles on both of their faces as they saluted us graduates and we saluted them back. At this point, I was so overcome that I didn't even catch much of what each had to say in their short statements, except that both thanked Captain Mahoney and Commandant Lassard for their service. And with that, the ceremony was finished.
It had now been a couple of hours since the police academy graduation ceremony had ended, and I had spent at least a third of that time speaking with my parents and siblings, who'd all come to watch me become a bona fide police officer. Thaddeus had since revealed to me that he had been the one to insist on making Captain Callahan his co-commandant, which was incredible to hear. Now Thaddeus and I were sitting in his living room, trying to decide what to do for the rest of the day, now that we were a completely legit couple. We went through the normal choices: restaurants, movie theaters, shopping, the works, but could not come up with an idea for the evening that either of us were interested in doing.
"Well, we could take the ZR-1 for a spin," Thaddeus suggested, giving me a little wink. "It's been a while since it was last defiled."
"But aren't you hurt?" I countered, making a confused face. "I mean, your poor leg and face, not to mention that tetanus sh—"
"Pish posh," he said, mimicking my Aunt Madelon's remarks. "We'll make sure to pick a good private spot. You gotta realize; we're heroes now, and nobody screws with heroes."
The red and blue lights flashed in the rear window, just as Thaddeus and I were just about to finish. At this point, the Corvette's windows were completely steamed up, though thankfully Harris had thought to put a sun shade in the windshield for added privacy. We'd been careful to park under a group of trees at the end of a dead-end street in an empty part of town, and yet somehow, the cops had found us.
"Shit! Shit, shit!" Harris yelled, making a whimpering sound as he pulled over his lap the blanket we'd brought. "Why does this keep happening to me!"
I quickly moved off of him, covering my lap in the same blanket as I yanked a t-shirt down over my head. We heard a door open from behind us, and I could see in the rear-view mirror the outline of a person walking toward us, a flashlight in their hand.
Harris gulped as the officer tapped on the driver's side window, their knuckles rapping against the glass. I held my breath.
"Go away!" Thaddeus growled, his wide-eyed look of terror only growing. The door handle was yanked, and the door opened—we'd forgotten to lock it! The police officer bent down to look into the car, and we were now looking into the dumbfounded face of Lieutenant Proctor.
"I thought that was you, Sir!" Proctor exclaimed, eyes going wide at the sight of us. "I was sent here to tell you that Mahoney says to try harder next time, okay?"
Harris narrowed his eyes at his former minion, completely lost.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Well, it means that you're on candid camera again." With that, Proctor squatted down further, pointing up toward the sky. "See that telephone pole up there, above the car?"
"Yeah," Harris replied. "What of it?"
"There's a camera on it, Sir. Mahoney says to try 7th and Howell next time. Or 10th and Harrison. Even 29th and Lincoln works. No cameras in those spots."
"Oh." Now Harris didn't know what to say. I didn't either.
"Anyway, have a good night, you two. Try not to get arrested, Sir, okay? You're the co-commandant now; it wouldn't look good if you're arrested."
"Thanks for the reminder, Proctor," Harris snapped. "Anyway, don't you anything better to do?"
"Like what, Sir?"
"I don't know; like getting your hero Larry Allen's autograph, for one? He hasn't yet made bail, so you could get his autograph in exchange for a bag of chips, or even an extra phone call."
"Great idea, Sir! I'll get him to sign my humane society magazine!" Proctor said, and he was gone.
Harris and I looked at each other as Proctor went back to his squad car.
"You were wrong, Thaddeus," I said, shaking my head.
"Wrong about what? What, you don't think he'll get that autograph? I don't know; I've found that people in jail are often willing to do pretty incredible stuff, like, for instance, graduating from a police academy with a medal of honor, saving countless people from more than one nut with a gun, or even helping a man who lived for his job to realize that there's so much more to life than work."
I chuckled, knowing that he was referencing my own situation.
"I meant, you were wrong when you said nobody screws with heroes," I said. "Am I not here right now?"
Thaddeus made a face, not quite understanding what I'd meant by that. I then smiled at him, pushing the blanket off of his lap and moving my hand along his exposed thigh.
"True," he replied, the blue and lights now long gone as he pulled the blanket off my lap, "'cause here I am, too."