Page 102 of Fathers of the Bride
“Thank you, that’s so kind.”
39
Miles Kettering-Lane
The butterflies arrivedtwenty-four hours early. I was barely out of bed when the doorbell rang. Opening the door, I found a delivery guy juggling four large boxes containing three hundred Monarch Butterflies. They were meant to arrive just before noon the following day—the day of the wedding. I’d even paid extra for Sunday delivery. Or at least I thought I had.
Naturally, I had no choice but to accept delivery, which meant I had to find a way to refrigerate three hundred butterflies or they’d wake up and begin to struggle in their little envelopes, and quickly die. I could easily have three hundred dead butterflies to hand out to our guests. Three hundred. I may have screamed a little after I shut the front door.
On the upside, I have a thirty square foot refrigerator. On the not so upside, it was full of food. Juggling the boxes, I made my way into the kitchen and set them on the counter. Then I flung open the refrigerator doors and stared at all my food. Where would I put the butterflies?
I was just going to have to get rid of some things. I started with the leftover coq au vin from the quick little dinner party I’d put together for Lucas and his two boyfriends after he agreed to officiate the wedding. That had been almost a week ago, so it wasn’t good anymore anyway. There were some vegan lemon bars which I was sure had passed their expiration date. How did that happen? They were so yummy.
I pulled the trash over and started throwing things in the moment I was sure—oh my goodness, in the back I found a package of mushrooms that was a full-on science experiment. Then I found part of a hazelnut cheesecake. It was still good. I cut off a slice and wondered if I should freeze the rest. Opening the freezer drawer, I saw that it, too, was completely full. Regretfully, I threw the rest of the cheesecake away. I reorganized a few things. I tried the first box.
Well, that was ridiculous. Even if there had been nothing in my refrigerator the box would never have fit. Why did they do that? Insist that you refrigerate the butterflies and then put them in a box that wouldn’t fit—
Oh, wait, I just had to readjust the shelves. Fine. Now how was I going to do that three more times? I was going to have to call Lucas. There was never anything in his refrigerator, so he should be able to take at least three—
“What are you doing?” Kelly asked.
“Nothing,” I said, in the same way she used to say as a child.
“You’re emptying the refrigerator. Why?”
“Well,” I said, trying to figure out a stall. Clearly, there was none. “I’m trying to save the butterflies.”
“What butterflies?”
“The ones that arrived a full day early and have to be kept cold until the wedding so they don’t die before the guests can release them as you walk down the aisle.”
“Oh, Daddy.”
“Don’t worry, they’re not endangered butterflies. And they’re native so they’ll just blend in with the other local butterflies.”
“If they survive.”
“It’ll be fine. The wedding is going to be perfect.” I couldn’t help myself. My eyes began to tear up and I stated the obvious, “You’re getting married tomorrow.”
She smiled enigmatically, and said, “That’s the plan.” Before I could ask exactly what that meant, she asked me,me, “Is the wedding everything you wanted?”
“EverythingI—no, it should be everythingyouwant.”
“Oh, it is, I’m sure it is,” said the young woman who didn’t actually know there would be butterflies.
Something was off about her reaction. I wasn’t sure what it was though. I decided it was not a good idea to pursue it. Instead, I asked, “Are you and Avery picking up the dress later?”
Even though it was bit last minute, Love Garb had been able to recreate the dress Kelly wanted with other deadstock fabrics. She’d had her second fitting two days before.
Ignoring my question, she asked, “How are things between you and Papa?”
“Well, I think we’ve agreed on a semipermanent truce. You’re the most important thing to both of us and so we’re focusing on you. Don’t worry we’ll be on our best—”
“But—”
“But what?”
“I’m going to be married tomorrow. Then what happens to the two of you? You don’t need to take care of me anymore.”
