April 16, 2022

The forecast is holding up. Stephanie is relieved at this development as she saunters back to the table with Rich. Applause from their guests is the only thing raining on them. Now that the first dance, which she spent weeks rehearsing, was complete she has the mental head-space available to reconsider this morning’s threat of storms. Why didn’t Tori offer us a tent option, she thinks to herself, I’ll have to bring that up to Rich later. They sit back at the table and stare back out at the audience. Rich moves the vase of lilies to the end of the table so they both can have a better view.

“Great job out there,” Stephanie whispers to Rich. She wonders how impressive it would have been if Rich didn’t miss a third of the rehearsals due to his changing work schedule.

“Thanks, I’m just happy I could keep up with you,” he responds back. “If the whole lawyer thing never works out, there’s always ballroom dancing.”

They both chuckle quietly.

A familiar sound of heels clicking becomes increasingly prominent. Simultaneously, Stephanie and Rich turn their heads. Tori is standing dutifully in front of them. “Hey, we are gonna restart the music as people continue to go up to the bar. In a few minutes we’ll start the speeches. Let me get the signature cocktails sent over here now.” She says.

Stephanie gives a quick nod in affirmation and Tori dashes off to the next task.

“Hey, why didn’t Tori offer us a tent?” Stephanie asks. “It would have been such a disaster if it rained.”

Rich purses his lips and shrugs his shoulders. The lack of adjustment in Stephanie’s expression makes it clear to him that a playful body gesture isn’t going to cut it.

“I guess she must have forgot,” he says “she’s juggling a million things, it happens.”

She tenderly kisses him on the cheek, which yields a chorus of glass clinks and “aahhs” in admiration.

“You are so understanding,” she says. “That’s why we compliment each other so well.”

Rich smiles back at her. A waiter, who looks closer to twelve than twenty-one, places the cocktails on the table.

“The Martin-tini, such a fun idea!” Stephanie exclaims.

Seeing this as a prime opportunity, Rich casually pulls out his phone and deletes the latest text from his wedding planner. Tori had begun reaching out to him exclusively on a few of the trickier matters of the reception.

This is her last day with us, she can take the ‘L’. I’m pretty sure she’s already fully paid. Rich thinks to himself. Why ruin a great time when it hasn’t even rained yet.

“Who’s ready for some speeches!” The DJ passionately yells into his microphone. He came highly recommended to Rich from his barback Austin, who used him last year for his daughter’s sweet sixteen. Rich spots Austin in the audience and shoots him a head-nod. The guests, all back from securing their drinks, cheer.

“Well let’s bring up to the stage, the maid of honor, Kelsey!”

Kelsey dances up to the microphone, her entrance music blaring out of the speakers. The skirt of her light-purple bridesmaid dress, Stephanie’s second favorite color, floating out in front. It is a pop song that Rich can’t quite place his finger on but most of the audience, even the older crowd, seems to be able to. Stephanie is standing and leading the audience in a coordinated clap. Confused, Rich turns to her with a puzzled look on his face but quickly shifts back towards Kelsey.

Kelsey grabs the microphone off the stand and poses in a power position. Rich is all too familiar with the look, her right hand pinned to her hip at a seventy-five-degree angle accompanied by a very slight lean to the left. He leans forward in his chair in anticipation of this being a long one. 

“Isn’t this exciting.” Stephanie whispers.

“Of course,” Rich responds, as he crosses his legs with the hope that it will help fight back his newfound desire to use the restroom.

“Hello, hello, hello! I first want to thank you all for coming to this once-in-a-lifetime event!” Kelsey exclaims. She begins clapping but stops quickly as she nearly fumbles the microphone. She takes a beat and dives back in.

“I met Stephanie during sorority rush almost ten years ago. And you know, a Tau-Girl is always ready to rule the world!”

A few “Yeahs and What-whats” emanate from Stephanie’s “college friends” table. Kelsey turns toward the bride and groom and angles her head slightly down. She struggles to grab a few index cards out of her dress pockets. Rich can feel the air behind Stephanie’s small fist pump under the table as the $250 dollars in extra sewing fees are validated.

“And I feel like she is a little sister in real life.” She turns back to address the crowd.

“When I first met Stephanie, her drive stood out. She knew she wanted to be a lawyer since she was eight. Eight! I can’t even decide what bag I’m going to bring to work. Nobody took her goals more seriously. Day in and day out, she stayed focused on what mattered to her. Freshman year, she once went on a library bender so deep, her roommate called me thinking that she was missing.”

The crowd bursts in laughter and applause. Kelsey waits for the commotion to die down. She raises her hand to ensure peak attention, like a teacher corralling 4th-graders for a quick lesson before recess.

“And all of that work paid off. The youngest junior partner at Cohen and Williams. If you need a merger done, she’s your girl. The merger Queen. To see a woman, crushing it like that, is an in-spir-ra-tion.

But in spite of all of this hard work, she still found time to care about others. When I graduated from school, I was scared. Soooooo many people want to be on tv, be the next great American journalist. Nobody believed in me more than Stephanie. She told me to put the effort in and see what happens. Without her, I would not be on your screens, five nights a week, on your nightly Channel Six team. Thank goodness my forecast was wrong tonight, amirite?”

This leads to a second thunderous reaction. Rich adjusts nervously in his seat.

“Looking at her today, I am so proud to see her blossom into this radiant woman right here. She made it look easy to become a lawyer. She makes it look easy to work all of these hard hours and still be there for the ones she loves. She makes it look easy to be the woman who gets everyone’s attention when she walks into a room. Thank goodness she didn’t want to be on tv.”

I knew she would work being a freaking weather-girl into her speech more than once. Rich thinks to himself.

Kelsey pauses for laughter but receives just a lukewarm response from the crowd. She jams her index cards back into her pocket.

“And Rich, what can you say about him. He truly is such a great soulmate for Stephanie. So caring and honest and willing to just, um, follow his passions in life. I’ve never met a man as smart and savvy. There’s nobody else in the world who can rattle off every U.S President in order and fix a car with ease.

A few lighthearted claps from the crowd gives Kelsey the confidence to turn back to the couple. Small beads of sweat trickle down Rich’s head, as he fights off the impending anxiety of Kelsey’s dramatic crescendo and the nagging urge to pee.

“With you Rich, I know Stephanie is in truly great hands.”

Stephanie raises her Martin-tini in appreciation of her husband. A smile jumps out of Rich’s face.

“And now, I’d like to make a toast. To the woman who has blown me away for the last decade. And the man who has the right stuff to keep up with her. I wish the very best for you both, as you begin this incredible next chapter in your life. To Stephanie and Rich.”

“To Stephanie and Rich,” the crowd chants back.

Stephane places her hand on Rich’s shoulder. Through the clinks and clangs of the glasses, she whispers “That was so awesome, wasn’t it?”

Rich, who once received thirty minutes of flack for being twenty minutes late to helping Kelsey move, took a deep sigh of relief.

February 21, 2013

“Can you pass me the mascara?” Stephanie asked. She didn’t address anyone in particular, since in her mind, there were four other women in the bathroom still getting ready. A few seconds of silence confirmed that her daydreaming had gone on much longer than she’d thought. Being in the front row, in between the head editor of the student newspaper and a man dressed so well for a college production that he had to be a talent agent, for your boyfriend’s well-received original show will have that effect. For the past ninety minutes since a standing ovation took over Blanner Theatre, she has been envisioning their future. From meeting during orientation last year to trotting around the globe for the rest of their lives. Him sitting squarely on the biggest stages and her right beside him, using their platform to highlight the great environmental concerns of a generation.

Never has a sophomore led his own show. She thought to herself.

“Hey girl! You know, you’re supposed to put on mascara last right?” Kelsey said. “I heard you yell out and came as fast as I could.”

“Oh, thanks, I didn’t even realize that.” Stephanie said.

“Are you coming to the Epsilon Eta party tonight?” Kelsey asked. She had walked into the bathroom and was scoping out Stephanie’s makeup kit?

“Nah, Jeremy is having this party with the rest of the cast and crew at his house. I’m going to surprise him. You should come, did Mark tell you how good his show was? I can’t believe they sent the head editor to review, would have been fun if we sat together, though.” Stephanie said.

“Look,” Kelsey placed her right hand on her hip, “you moved into the house to go to frat parties and do fun stuff. You gotta enjoy yourself and not get so sucked up in books and one guy.” 

Stephanie was beginning to braid her hair. “How about this, we’ll pop over to Jeremy’s house for, like, an hour and then we’ll meet the rest of the girls at the party. Is that fair? I’ll text him that we’ll be there in thirty.”

Their uber pulled up to the Jeremy’s house about an hour later. They were both silent on the ride, unsure about the reliability and safety of this new app. Stephanie hadn’t downloaded it yet herself, unable to rationalize how a well-adjusted adult would just let people into their cars. About ten people were huddled on a front porch, defined by its paint chips. They were taking turns stepping into the spotlight, each one struggling to manage a beer bong.

“This is going to be like the environmental law of parties.”  Kelsey muttered under her breath.

Stephanie missed this comment and confidently walked through the door as Kelsey cautiously tip-toed behind. Her apprehensions intensified as she saw the compact living room and trash riddled all over the floor. She nonchalantly dips her hand into her bag and is relieved to find her pepper spray.

Not seeing Jeremy on the first floor, Stephanie navigated her way to the backyard. Kelsey, feeling the stares of a thousand men, was close behind. This excursion led to disappointment, as Jeremy was nowhere to be found. A few shirtless men were mulling about, some of whom had dirt all over their backs. Stephanie darted towards Owen, whom Kelsey only knows as that guy who hangs out with Jeremy and looks like someone who ends up with a bucket stuck on his head in the silent movies her grandfather loved.

It took a minute for Stephanie to get his attention. He is too busy panting and hydrating himself with a sports drink.

He gestures the drink toward both women. “You want some, there’s vodka mixed in. Y’all missed a battle for the ages out here.”

“Hey, I’m happy you’re here. I thought this party was only for the cast and crew. I just wanted to surprise Jeremy. Where is he?” Stephanie asked.

Owen wiped some sweat off of his face and began to look past both women, towards the house. “Oh, uh, he, um, should be around somewhere. I can go find him for --”

“No, we’ll find him. Thank you very much, you can just hang here.” Kelsey said curtly.

“C’mon, we’re going upstairs to his room.”

Before she realized it, Stephanie was in front of the “Jeremy’s Den” sign that is hammered into his bedroom door. Kelsey placed her hand on the knob and, without consultation, swung the door in dramatic fashion.

“Oh shit!” Jeremy shouted.

Sprawled on his bed, he instinctively pulled his comforter up to cover his body, which exposed the backside of a woman with brown hair. As the woman put together the pieces to the puzzle, she ran out of the room, scuffling Kelsey’s brand-new flats in the process.

“Babe, I can explain.” Jeremy said.

The ensuing discussion quickly devolved into a full-blown argument. Five minutes felt like five hours.

“Also, why would you lie to me about who this party was for!” Stephanie yelled.

“Yeah, and this is a lot of cast and crew members for a shitty one man show. I know for a fact that that goofy guy isn’t getting on stage.” Kelsey added.

Jeremy took a deep breath. “That is what you care about, seriously? You wanna know the truth. You drag me down. All you care about is yourself and your goals. You fail to remember me.”  He began to frantically point towards his doorway.

Stephanie gave her best ‘nothing to see here’ walk all the way to the street corner. Right by her side throughout the journey, Kelsey called an Uber that was eleven minutes away.

After seven minutes of silence, Stephanie started to sob. “How could he do this to me?” She asked through her tears.

“You know what, screw him,” Kelsey responded. “You are beautiful and smart and, you’re not going to want to hear this right now, he’s dragging you down. You’re a killer and you’re going to kill it in the scene and you’re going to kill it with the law stuff. I know it hurts now, but I’ve been there too. You’ll get through it with time.”

“What’s the address for Blanner Theatre again?” Kelsey asked as she finalized a surprise for Jeremy on her phone.

“Oh never mind, I’ll just Google it.” Kelsey said once she realized Stephanie was too lost in the moment to respond. Kelsey laughed quietly to herself when she discovered that GlitterBomb.com has free two-day shipping.

April 16, 2022

“What a wonderful speech. Let’s keep them rolling. Who’s ready for the best man? Leo, come on up!”

“Let him loose, let him loose, let him loose”. With no theme music accompanying him, the chants from Rich’s high school table fill the void.

I told Rich to make sure Leo submitted a walkup song, Stephanie thinks to herself.

Leo saunters to the microphone with an old fashion in his hand. He grabs the mic and takes a wide stance, as if he was about to do a set of side lunges.

“What can I say about my man, my main man, Rich.” Leo slurs into the microphone. “I’ve known this kid since elementary school. What was our mascot again?” He asks himself into the microphone.

A few seconds of silence overtakes the moment. Leo is swinging his off hand from side to side, as if he is poorly conducting an orchestra, in an attempt to conjure up this answer. Half of the old fashion spills out of the glass, splattering Leo’s pants and the bottom of the microphone stand.

“Get him to move on.” Stephanie tersely whispers to Rich. “Nobody cares about this; did he even prepare anything.”

Rich begins to mime two paws attacking the air. After a few more seconds, Leo turns to the couple and the correct answer dawns on him.

“Oh yeah, the tigers, that was so stupid. So anyway, what I was saying. Rich and I have been boys for years. Back in the day, before he got into the whole relationship thing, we crushed it every weekend. They used to call us double-trouble. Always wrapped it up though.” Leo heartily laughs to himself into the microphone. Nobody joins him. Leo burps deeply, albeit away from the microphone.

I told Rich that he shouldn’t pick this loser to be his best man. He’s a human disaster, Stephanie thinks to herself.

As his pinky is losing circulation due to Stephanie’s vise-grip, Rich recognizes that it’s time to pull his buddy off of the mound and get him back to the dugout.

He quickly shuffles out of his seat and places his hand on Leo’s shoulder.

“I thought the speech was hilarious.” He whispers to Leo. “Why don’t you wrap it up, hand me the mic.”

Leo obliges.

“Lets give it up for my best man and best friend, Leo Anderson!” Rich says with as much gusto as he can muster up in the moment.

A few pity claps, mostly from the ‘Let Him Loose’ table, plays Leo off back to his seat.

“Alright then, that was certainly something. Who’s ready to dan-“

Tori whispers into the DJ’s ear just in the nick to time. She knows from experience that once you call wedding guests to the dance floor, there’s no going back.

“Oh my apologies, we have one more speech.” The DJ announces.

September 21, 2019

“Worried it’s going to rain tomorrow during the big game, I’ll let you know if you need those raincoats at eleven.”

“Damn, I can’t even escape her at the bar.” Rich said in reaction to the Channel Six promo. “She’s not even a scientist bro.”

Rich had expected a response, but Leo’s sole focus was on his phone. During Swipe Saturday, he would go in and out of conversational reliability. What started out as a joke amongst childhood friends turned into a weekly tradition. After five more minutes of silence Leo motioned for another whiskey-ginger, his fifth in two-and-a-half hours.  

“What was that eighties high-school movie you mentioned last week? The one where the girl starts out wearing glasses and turns out to be super hot?” Leo asked. “I feel like this woman has that sort of potential.”

“Here you go man,” Rich said, “I’ma have to close you out, my dad’s about to show up so Alecia is covering the rest of night.”

Leo begins to fumble for his card while Rich takes care of the three other patrons at the bar. As he is closing out, Austin slides up to the register and whispers into his ear. Rich turns to face Leo with his face painted in anger, as if he had stepped on a Lego barefoot.

“Put your card away, Alecia ain’t coming in. I’ll have to stay until eight, my dad is going to be so pissed.” Rich said.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, it’ll give me a little more time to see if things work out with Amy.” Leo responded, waving a picture of a petite red-head smiling with a glass of wine on his phone.

Two minutes later, Mr. Martin shuffled through the door, right on time. His cane vibrates the floorboard with each step, pacing Rich’s anxiety of breaking the unfortunate news.

“Hey son, you ready to go, the movie starts in forty and I don’t want to miss the previews again.” Mr. Martin asked his son once he made it to the bar.

Before they could even complete basic pleasantries, Mr. Martin picked up the inflection in his son’s voice and understood the drill. He threw his slightly ripped windbreaker on the stool next to Leo and took a seat. Rich took a quick glance at his father before tending to his other regulars.

Damn, he even put on a polo for this. Rich thought to himself.

After ninety minutes of little fanfare, Mr. Martin raised his head from his newspaper, which he had pulled out of his freshly ironed khakis. “Leo, you’re a smart guy, what do you think about these automated cars? Are they going to put me out of a job?”

“Mr. M, I move numbers on a spreadsheet, I don’t know anything about robot cars. At least I won’t get in one, so you got a customer in me.” Leo gave Mr. Martin as much mental capacity as he could muster up after seven whiskey-gingers.

“You shouldn’t be working such long hours anyway.” Rich chimed in.

Mr. Martin raised his hand in dismissal. “I am going to keep driving taxis until I pay all of my bills, or these robots catch up to me.” Leo chuckled at the callback to his comment. “Them student loans aren’t going to pay themselves, there isn’t a robot for that.” Mr. Martin comes a bit more alive and nudges Leo in the ribs.

“You know, actually,” Leo’s grand point is interrupted by a deep burp.

Rich leaned over the bar uneasily. His leg was frantically bouncing up and down. Unable to jut into the conversation until Leo’s burp ended. When he retold this story to Stephanie, he swore that the burp lasted for over a minute, which she noted would be in the neighborhood of a world record. He spent this time preparing to make a point. He felt a forceful hand on his shoulder; Austin informed him that the toilet had flooded and that it was a two-man job.

“Wow, son. Leo was just telling me about your management training at the community center.” Rich heard from his father as he was rushing back from the bathroom. “You’re really going for it.”

Rich’s smile hung in the air for a few seconds, until a young couple caught his attention to ask if he could change the channel.

April 19, 2022

“Gosh, it is so annoying when your room isn’t ready. I would have been so screwed if I had to take that conference call in the lobby.” Stephanie says rapidly as she unpacks her workbag.”

“Well, luckily it didn’t come to that.” Rich says as he lays in bed and fiddles with his phone. “I’ll start clearing out the suitcase.”

She kisses him tenderly on the lips. “I promise that we can start to explore the resort after I’m done.”

“Wait,” Rich says. “Aunt Linda is blowing up my phone.”

“Oh, what is she saying?” Stephanie asks. “Is your dad still humble bragging about his speech. I had, like, three different people tell me how great it was.”

Rich jumps off the bed and stares at her blankly. His phone slips out of his hand and falls on the carpet.

“She says that Dad fell down and they’re rushing him to the hospital. They think he had a stroke. We need to go back now.” Rich says in rapid succession.

“Ok, I’m going to let Roger know that I can’t make the call. Then I’m going to start looking for flights.” Stephanie says. She begins to type furiously on her phone.

“I’m going to see if Aunt Linda has any more details.” Rich says.

The dings off of their phones are nearly simultaneous. Both Kelsey and Leo confirm that they are there for whatever is needed. The newlyweds stay glued to their phones to execute their vocalized next steps.

Stephanie glances up at Rich and walks towards him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “It will be ok,” she says, “I promise.”

A first-generation college graduate originally from New Jersey, Kyle Breckenridge has been based in the District of Columbia for the past decade. After finishing his coursework at American University, he began working in the non-profit development space. This is his second short story, having previously been published in Quibble.