Happily Never After

by Lynn Painter

And Pastor Pete apparently forgot that his lapel mic was on, because he sighed and said, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

But when I saw the bride pull her arm back and launch that snack cake off the balcony like a professional quarterback, I decided to stick around for another minute.

“As much as I want to get ripped, I don’t want to end up with my head in a hotel toilet. Pretty sure that’s how you get dysentery.”

“Max,” she repeated, raising her eyes to the ceiling as if it held an opinion on my name. “I mean, that’s a fine name and all, but The Objector is next level.” “It makes me sound like an off-brand superhero.”

Max plopped down on the couch beside me and kicked his feet up on the coffee table. “Did Stuart ruin The Holiday for you?” I turned my head, and he was watching me with amusement in his dark eyes. He really had a nice face, I thought as I said, “God, no. The Holiday ruined The Holiday for me.”

“There are seven point eight billion people in the world,” I said, shaking my head at the absurdity. “How can you ever be sure you’ve found the one ‘true love’ of your life when you haven’t even met one percent of the people on the earth? You could have the exact same relationship with millions of them as you do with your significant other, simply because of compatibility.”

It screamed, I’m not dressed up today but still willing to schedule a shit ton of meetings at the drop of a hat, and I knew at a glance that the woman used the shit out of that Apple Watch on her wrist.

“With bald spots from his feline anxiety, which I totally think they should call fanxiety because it makes him sound like a badass vampire cat—”

“My car is down by the park, so I have to go that way. It was nice seeing you again, and I look forward to your further instructions as I quake in fear and question my decisions.” “My truck is also down by the park,” I said, “so we can discuss your decisions for a few more moments.”

I flipped her off before turning in the direction of my car, and I heard the familiar sound of her laugh as I walked away.

I knew where he was heading, so I said, “Please make your judgmental point instead of asking an endless stream of leading questions.” “Okay. Why would you stay at a job where you have to see that fucker every day?”

She finally looked up at me, giving in to a full grin that had the power to knock a guy on his ass.

A woman with a fiddle was playing “Safe and Sound,” and as we sat down on a pew toward the back, I couldn’t believe someone would choose to have a song from The Hunger Games played at their wedding.

“Shut up and drive, Parks.” “Shut up and ride, Steinbeck.”

“So just when I thought the entire ordeal couldn’t get any more Jerry Springer, Callie called Ronnie pathetic and told him she didn’t love him and never had. She said—and I quote—‘I only love your penis.’

“That is one hell of an attractive man.” She moved her face a little closer to the phone, then raised her eyes to me. “Dear God, Sophie—is that the guy who crashed your wedding?” Oh, shit.

Sophie: I put a bride in a headlock the last time we were together. I texted: Again, you’re going to have to be more specific.

“Um, no, I am not, because they aren’t my grapes to try until I pay for them.” Was she serious? “You’re messing with me right now, aren’t you?” “Absolutely not. You have to try them to know if they’re sour.”

“I like to keep my food and my body-part ogling completely separate experiences.” That made her laugh. “So classy.”

“You obviously can’t think of a lie,” Max said, looking amused as we broke apart and I took back the phone from Rose. “So I’m going to assume you’re obsessed with me and wish to start a scrapbook.”

“You’re like the damn language police tonight. Maybe talk to me when you haven’t been out playing ‘taste the tonsil’ with Julian the Hot.”

“I actually need a new pair of dress shoes, so if you find yourself at Von Maur, buy me the shoes.” “Size, please.” “Fourteen.” “I’m going to be mature and not make a penis joke.”

“So, um, can I read you the conclusion of my bullet points, even though you apparently hate PowerPoint presentations?”