by Gail Sattler
Abby’s hand shook as she reached for the bouquet.
Her bridal bouquet.
After months of preparation, she was no longer Abby Edmonds—at least not on paper. She was now Mrs. Stanleigh Chenkowski.
For the first time today, Abby was able to stand by herself and not listen to relatives recount highlights of their own wedding days thirty years ago or pose for pictures. For a few minutes, she had some time to see what was happening around her.
Currently, a large group of guests had their attention fixed on the beautiful groom’s cake, made to look just like Stan’s dog. Since the cake resembled Bowser so much, no one, including Stan, had the heart to cut it. Even Rose, who made the cake, couldn’t be the first one to insert the knife.
Guests sat at the tables around the room, nibbling goodies, eating wedding cake, and sipping coffee and tea. Other people stood in small groups, just talking.
Away from the action, Abby surveyed the banquet room of the Country Meadows Inn one last time. The red and white streamers, hearts, and bells were exquisite, the decorating perfect.
Her wedding day was almost over. Everything had progressed without a hitch.
The ceremony had been beautiful, and there hadn’t been a dry eye in the house, except, strangely, for her own. Because she’d caught Stan sniffling when she hadn’t been, Abby promised Stan she would remind him on every anniversary. Abby snickered to herself. She always kept her promises.
Following the ceremony, because the weather was a typical March day for Vermont, they’d taken the portrait pictures inside a studio, then come back to the inn for the reception.
The meal had been delicious. The speeches were performed without incident or too much embarrassment, although she couldn’t say the same about the video her brother and his friends had made and shown their guests. Abby wasn’t very pleased her courtship with Stan had been turned into a comedic documentary, but the video had provided a nice break from the rush and festivities.
For now, the wedding cake had been cut, and it was time to get ready to throw the bouquet to her still-single guests.
Abby picked up the small bouquet and ran her fingers over the soft petals of the fragrant roses in varying hues of red, pink, peach, and even a few in yellow. Felicity had outdone herself with the beautiful arrangement. Abby almost didn’t want to give it away, but of course she had to. Besides, her brother David was a semi-professional photographer, and he had taken enough pictures that she would never forget its beauty.
“Abby?” a little voice piped up beside her.
Abby looked down. “Hi, Jenni. Are you enjoying yourself? I want to thank you for spreading the rose petals so nicely at the church today. You did a good job as flower girl.” She smiled, thinking of how cute Jenni and Cody, the ring bearer, were together.
Jenni beamed from ear to ear. “Thanks!” she squealed. “Mrs. Edmonds told me to tell you that it’s time to throw the bouquet.”
Abby bit back her grin. “Tell her that I’m going to do it right now.”
As Jenni giggled and skipped back to Abby’s mother, Abby sighed. This was her last official function of the day, and then her wedding would be over.
She craned her neck to see Stan, all decked out in his white tuxedo, through the crowd. At the same moment, he turned around and looked back at her, smiling.
Abby’s heart pounded. She loved Stan more than she did yesterday, and even more than this morning. Today they had been joined as husband and wife in a ceremony witnessed by their friends, their families, and God. And now it was time to leave their guests and begin their lives together as a married couple.
Abby raised one arm and waved at the room full of people. “Attention! Everybody! I’m going to throw the bouquet! Everyone who wants to see if they’re going to be next to get married, come now!”
Most of her single guests hurried into a circle behind her. She could see Kathy, Brenda, Nanci, all her cousins, and a bunch of Stan’s cousins, whose names she couldn’t remember, shuffling into a circle. Even little Jenni, who was only six years old, was in the middle. All faces were expectant and hopeful as they waited.
However, some faces were missing. But before Abby had a chance to tell them to join in the fun, the women already gathered began calling out to her to hurry up.
Abby turned around and tightened her grip on the bouquet. “Okay, Lord,” she mumbled, “I’ve had my day. You gave me Stan, and You made me the happiest woman on earth. But now it’s someone else’s turn. You know who needs this the most.”
Abby sucked in a deep breath, closed her eyes, and flung the bouquet over her head.
The weight of the flowers had barely left her hands when she spun around to see who would catch it.
Before she stopped moving, a collective gasp echoed through the room.
All heads were turned up, way up, toward the ceiling. Abby also tilted her head to watch.
The bouquet was not arcing gracefully through the air; she’d accidentally thrown it too hard. Instead of floating into the circle of anxious single women, the bouquet zipped through the air, straight for the whirring ceiling fan in the middle of the room.
Abby covered her mouth with her hands. “No!” she shouted, but her voice came out muffled between her fingers.
With a dull thud, followed by a series of crisp snaps, her beautiful bouquet shattered.
Only shredded leaves floated to the women below. The larger pieces of the bouquet, their speed increased by the force and velocity of the spinning fan blades, shot past the ladies huddled in the middle of the room and hurled along on paths of their own.