Killer Wedding a story by Gloria Teague

No one knew how to turn on the heat for the tiny building that had been
commandeered for a chapel and the four sets of snowy footprints had already melted
by the door. The dim light of the outdoor holiday decorations played across the strained
faces of the minister and his wife and emphasized their fear as they kept glancing toward
the back of the church. The bride and groom's smooth faces were yet unlined by life’s
tribulations but their shadows stumbled across the empty lawn chairs being used as pews.
The cold room reflected the meaninglessness of this hastily assembled ceremony. No one
in their family yet knew of the travesty that was taking place.
The groom clinched his hands by his sides, not touching the tiny female hand held
just as stiffly mere inches away. She gritted her teeth as she heard the one beside her
mutter, “I don’t want to do this. You just wait and see. I’ll get you for this.”
She turned her triumphant smile up to his hostile grimace. Her stoicism was more
than a match for his fury. “Shut up,” her hissed words were loud in the tiny room. “This
is what happens when you murder…”
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here to…” The anger emanating from the couple in
front of him caused the minister’s words to falter, and then lose stamina. Just as he was
regaining his footing, the bride broke into tears.
“You’re the one that killed my baby!”
“You’re crazy. I didn’t kill your baby!” He turned to the minister. “C’mon, get this
over with so I can get out of here.”
The ministerial wife stepped up beside the bride and put her arm around the bride’s
trembling shoulders and glared at the groom who stared back at her without blinking.
The preacher's monotone continued, "Uh, if anybody can show why they may not be
married, speak now; or else for ever hold your peace."
All of them turned abruptly when they heard a hard step by the front door. The frigid
storm that blew into the room wasn’t merely the winter weather swirling around outside.
“What are you doing?” The people at the altar began to tremble. “I’ve been looking
everywhere for you!” Thunderous footsteps moved up the aisle faster than the young
people had dreamed possible.
“David? What are you doing with my good suit on? Justin, you’re wearing my new
tie? Oh girls, your mother’s going to kill you for wearing her high heels out here in the
mud and snow!”
“But Daddy, David broke my baby doll!”
David’s head hung low. “Yeah, Stephanie made me act like we was getting married.
She said she’d tell on me if I didn’t. Then Justin and Amber wanted to play and they got
in a fight ‘cause they both wanted to be the preacher.”
Jim walked to the window as if seeking guidance from the stars. When he had
regained control of his expression he turned a stern look back on his children.
“Well, that’s it. Boys, you walk with me, slowly, and maybe you won’t get any more
dirt on my good clothes. Girls, I’ll carry you back in so you won’t do any more damage
to your mother’s shoes.”
A warm cinnamon and vanilla scent blanketed them when they stepped into the
kitchen. As Jim closed the door behind him he told the children they were going to their
rooms, immediately.
Diana put her magazine down and raised an eyebrow at her husband.
“There was a murder and a sentence was handed down. Because of that, all guilty
parties have to go to bed without their usual milk and cookies.”
David crossed his arms and his lip jutted out.
“Yeah, I already got in trouble and had to play that stupid weddin’ game. How come I
got to get punished again?”
With four sets of feet pounding up the stairs, Diana laughed. “Yeah, count on a man
to believe getting married is punishment.”
Jim’s eyes rounded in innocence when he retorted, “Well count on a woman to hand
out a wedding as a life sentence.”
Jim laid his head on top of his wife’s curls.
“Tell me again why we have so many children?”
He planted a kiss on the end of her nose, causing her to giggle.
“Just lucky I guess.”