Page 1 of My Stepbrother's Wedding
Chapter 1
My name is Winifred Maude Robespierre, not that I had a choice in the matter. I’d have chosen something exotic and alluring, like Elandra or Chantal. Instead, I was dumped with the names of my two great-aunts and a French guy who got his head chopped off. Life’s not fair, especially when your name’s Winifred.
This story isn’t about me though. It’s about my doofus stepbrother, Will, who decided to get married overseas in some place called Malegonia. It’s a blip on the map of Eastern Europe, famous for … well, nothing I know of. Why Will volunteered to teach English there is beyond me. All I know is that it’s far away, and my summer is being ruined by this stupid wedding.
We got the news on Saturday morning the week after I came home for summer break. I was eating breakfast at the kitchen table, peering out the window at the squirrels raiding ourbird feeder, when my stepmother, Elizabeth, burst into the room. Her Ronald McDonald hair puffed out like she’d been electrocuted, and tears streamed down her face. She was emotional about everything. The woman sometimes broke into sobs watching Ford commercials. I ignored her and sipped my coffee.
But when Dad came in with that obnoxious grin, it was clear something was up. His green eyes shone, and he fidgeted with his fanny pack. “There’s no reason to cry, Lizzy Bear. You should be happy for Will.”
“But I’ve never even met her,” Elizabeth blubbered. “I can’t just give him away to a stranger.”
I indulged in my bowl of Cheerios as they jabbered. Giving Will away to a stranger didn’t sound like a bad idea—no more of his awful music or fighting for the remote.
Dad pulled his shorts up to his armpits, one of his gazillion annoying quirks, and waltzed across the kitchen floor. He opened the pantry and dug out a box of cookies stashed behind the health food. “Will picked her. He must think she’s the one.”
“But two months is so little time to plan,” Elizabeth said.
“We’ll have to be careful with money, but we can do this.” Dad shoved a cookie into his mouth.
I rolled my eyes. Money was always an issue with my father. He was so uptight that you could stick a piece of coal up his bum and get a diamond six weeks later.
“It’s not the money,” Elizabeth said. “It’s seeing my boy grow up so fast.”
My head ached. She was always doting about how Will went off on some great adventure to a faraway land. It was beyond annoying. Still, I got the impression this might be important. “What’s going on?”
Dad rearranged a few strands of dark hair he used to hide his bald spot and swallowed the last of a cookie. “Your stepbrother is getting married.”
I almost laughed, but the earnestness of his voice told me this wasn’t a joke. I was fairly certain my jaw fell open though. The thought of that dork getting married sounded unbelievable. In high school he couldn’t even get his geeky Dungeons and Dragons friends to come over, much less an actual girl.
Elizabeth had a sappy smile on her freckled face. “Her name is Irena, and her pictures are beautiful.”
I had to remind myself to breathe. Will could never get a girl, much less a pretty girl. Or could he? A memory of Jennifer Wilson saying my stepbrother was cute rushed into my mind, along with a fit of nausea. Was it possible somepoor woman was desperate enough to hitch herself to the zit-covered troll that lived in my basement? This had to be a mistake.
“We have so much to do,” Elizabeth said. “The wedding is on the first of August.”
“I’ll call the travel agent,” Dad said. “We’ll need three tickets to Malegonia.”
August, three tickets, Malegonia. The words entered my ears but didn’t register at first. I was supposed to be in Florida in August, partying it up with Karen. Why would they need three tickets if Dad and Elizabeth were flying to Malegonia? Then it hit me.
“Wait.” I gulped. “Are we all going to the wedding?”
“Well, of course,” Elizabeth said. “Aren’t you excited?”
A stabbing jolt shot through my body. My shoulders dropped as a thousand panicky thoughts raced through my mind. What about Florida? Was this girl a con artist? Did he find her in a catalog? Where was Malegonia anyway?
“I know you’re surprised.” Dad mistook my mortal terror for astonishment. “But this is going to be the trip of a lifetime.”
“I need to buy a dress and a wedding gift,” Elizabeth said.
Dad held up the keys to the Prius. “Let’s get on it then, Lizzy Bear.”
“To the mall, Ralphy Bear.”
The fifty-year-old lovebirds skedaddled out the garage door, leaving me dumbfounded and reeling in shock. My dreams of Fort Lauderdale melted like a snowball in a microwave, replaced by the dread of an imminent family trip. They wanted to drag me halfway across the planet for the wedding of a boy I couldn’t stand to a girl I’d never met. I briefly considered drowning myself in the milk of my cereal bowl.
***
“Stop running!” I yelled at a chubby middle school boy who completely ignored me and did a cannonball into the pool. I slumped onto my chair behind the snack bar and lamented the inhuman fate I’d been dealt that morning. My entire summer would be nothing but making snow cones for ten-year-old brats and spending “quality time” with the family.
