Page 76 of No One Was Supposed to Die at This Wedding

And from this angle, it looks like he’s...wait for it...dead.

54Will it surprise you to learn that there are often disputes over who wrote a movie? No, right?

55The WGA is the Writers Guild of America, the union that protects writers against producers and directors.

56“Polish” is an industry term that means they changed up to 10 percent of the script. TL;DR: When you see a screenwriter’s name on a movie, that means they wrote some of it, but there’s anywhere from one to an infinite number of other people who had their hands in the final draft, including the director.

CHAPTER 13

Is a Dead Body Ever Going to Show Up?

“Fred! Fred, are you all right?”

Oliver is crouching by Fred on the floor of the furnace room while the rest of us crowd around him. Fred’s pale and still. He’s dressed for the rehearsal dinner in a cream linen suit, with a streak of dirt across the back and crumpled creases at the knees, like he sat down too long.

“Fred. Come on, Fred. Talk to me.”

A groan escapes Fred’s mouth, low and frightening, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

Fred’s alive. Something bad happened down here, but not that.

He didn’t die.

He didn’t walk out on Emma.

Oliver puts an arm around Fred and gets him onto his back. Then he tips him up slowly into a sitting position. Fred moans at the effort, but the color is returning to his face as his eyes flutter open.

“Shouldn’t we wait till the doctor gets here?” David says. “I always thought you weren’t supposed to move people in these kinds of situations.”

“You’ve been in this kind of situation before?” I say.

“Well, no, but...it seems like common sense.”

“Is a doctor coming? Did you call one?”

I’m not sure why I’m feeling so hostile to David, besides the usual.

But his bad dialogue didn’t make Fred pass out in a basement.

Did it?

“What...” Fred says.

“Yes, Fred?” I say, moving closer. “Are you okay?”

He reaches up and touches the back of his head. “Someone...Something hit me.”

“Did you see who it was?” Oliver asks. He’s still crouched behind Fred, helping him stay upright.

“I...no...”

“There’s a doctor on staff,” Mr. Prentice says, “but he didn’t come to work today because of the storm.”

“Is there a hospital or a clinic we could call?”

“There’s a medical practice, but I’d wager they aren’t here either, because of the—”

“Storm, I get it.”

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