Wedding Llamas

It took all my strength not to roll my eyes as Heather ambled into our family room, juggling three overfilled binders, which she flung onto the coffee table. Dad bristled at the thudding sound. Heather had been planning her perfect wedding for more than a decade. With her groom ensnared, she just needed Dad's bank account to realize her dream.

Dad looked at Heather, "Don't we need David here for this discussion?" Dad sat rigidly, and his hands tightly grasped his Chicago Cubs coffee mug. I feared the cup would crack from the strain.

Heather twirled her long raven hair in her index finger. "Nope. He left the details to me. Besides, he's either at the hospital or sleeping." Dr. Johnson is a resident.

"An ideal fiancé, then," I said. By providing snide comments, Dad could keep his feelings clenched between his teeth.

Looking directly at Heather, Dad asked," Do you have a proposal for me? A budget? A project plan?" I withheld a chuckle. He questioned the daughter he wished he had, not the 29-year-old who still lived at home. 

"Daaaad…you know that's not my thing." Heather quickly splayed open the pink, purple, and red binders on the circular table, revealing countless torn magazine pages encased in plastic. "But here, I can show you my top ten wedding dresses, tiered cakes for each guest's table, flower arrangements." 

Her fingers fumbled among the brochures spilling out of the binders. "There! Here's what I'm most excited about: Wedding Llamas. They'll meander around the wedding grounds to soothe anxious guests." Heather released a big sigh and a wide grin, thoroughly pleased with herself. 

Dad jumped up from the table and began to pace the room. "Wedding llamas?! You must be joking. In my day, we had a small church wedding and a reception in an adjoining room for coffee and cake." He dusted his hands off as if he could symbolically rid himself of this onerous burden. "No muss, no fuss. Boy, do I miss your mother now." He sat back down, slumping in his chair.

"We all miss Mommy, Dad," I said.

"Look, honey," turning toward Heather. "I'm glad you've found a nice man you want to marry. I like David. I'm willing to pay for your wedding, a reasonable amount. I can't have a woo-woo Hollywood spectacle. The wedding's about you and David making a lifetime commitment to one another, not soothing anxious guests getting a free meal and an open bar. Keep your eye on the ball."

"But, but… Dad. I've been planning this since I was a girl. Don't you want your little princess to have her perfect day?" Heather's voice cracked, and her eyes filled with tears as she slammed her binders shut. 

As the hypotenuse of this dysfunctional triangle, I knew I had to jump in, but Dad beat me to it. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a folded check, and pushed it toward Heather. "I asked around, and this is a reasonable amount for a nice wedding. That's all you get, so spend it wisely. Tell me when and where to show up, and I'll be there. I beg you to leave me out of the drama."

Heather's eyes opened widely as her mouth fell open. Tears of relief spilled from her eyes as she reached out to hug Dad. Choking on her intensive embrace, he looked pleadingly at me. 

"Your best asset is your younger sister here. Scout's blessed with common sense. She'll keep your fairy feet on the ground and help you stay on budget." He winked at me conveying how much he'd owe me for this. My eyeballs could no longer be held back. They rolled so far back into my head that my chair nearly toppled backward.

###

The next morning, I tapped on Heather's bedroom door.

"Come in."

Heather hunched over her desk littered with used tissues in tightly wound balls. Wedding paraphernalia covered every surface. "How's it going?" I asked gingerly. "Can I help?"

"Oh, Scout. It's hopeless. Although Dad gave me a generous budget, everything costs so much, and I want everything." Heather's red, puffy face revealed her state. Her disheveled hair and distinctive body order beckoned a shower. With her forehead on her desk, she muffled, "Help."

My organizational skills kicked in."How about we approach this from a different angle? What if, like, we start with a simple wedding and only add in what the budget allows? Let's make three piles: must-haves, nice-to-haves, and don't need."

We spent the weekend hashing through the options. Destination wedding out. Garden wedding at the club in. Pyrotechnic table decorations out, although even I regretted that loss. The invitation to chaos delighted me. Lighted mason jar flower favors in. Twelve-tiered wedding cake out. Custom caricature wedding topper in. 

###

By Sunday night, we were both wrung out, and I still had a paper to write on Virginia Wolf's masterpiece novel. The opening line, "Mrs. Dalloway said that she would buy the flowers herself," had all new meaning to me now. I wondered how Heather and I could be sisters when we value such different things. 

Although we hadn't figured out everything, we had accomplished a lot. After thanking me, Heather flung herself on her bed in triumph. With no budget remaining, we lacked a wedding showstopper to make their wedding unforgettable. Heather resolved to consult with David, and I agreed to approach Dad for more dough. When I share that I talked Heather down from the tabletop pyrotechnics, would he be willing to throw us a bone?

###

With my draft of "Mrs. Dalloway Can't Escape WWI" uploaded to my online class platform, I approached Dad with a wedding update. Although he refused to alter the budget, he had a wedding flourish up his sleeve. One of his clients owed him a favor and offered his vintage white Cadillac convertible for the reception getaway car. We agreed this would appeal to both Heather and David, a man who, thankfully, went along with everything. Would it be enough to give Heather that distinguished wedding she desired? I thanked Dad and strategized how to turn my princess of a sister into a grateful daughter and hoped for the best.

###

At last, the wedding day arrived. Heather glowed as she cascaded up the aisle, and I couldn't help but tear up as I viewed her rapture. The sun began to set, and the tea lights twinkled. The captivated guests stared lovingly at the beautiful bride. I couldn't talk her out of that ridiculously long train, but it made her happy. Even Dad beamed. Easy-going David seemed relaxed and contented. But what happened next took my breath away. 

From behind the wedding guests, entering from opposite sides of the garden setting, handlers led two llamas up the wedding aisle. Titters from attendees behind her caught Heather's attention, and she turned to face the decorated beasts. Red rose petals cascaded from the llamas' saddle bags along the white aisle runner. Heather jumped up and down in glee, and the audience reached for their phones to capture the unique spectacle. Heather had gotten her unforgettable moment after all. 

But then the guests' laughter grew louder, and they began to cover their mouths in disgust. Llama number two began eliminating small, black droppings onto the white runner. Uncertain what to do, I glanced at Heather, who looked horrified as guffaws erupted. David took in the scene and acted quickly. He ran toward the manure retrieval equipment, leaned against a nearby tree, and scurried behind the llama to dispatch the evidence. This endeared him to the audience, who applauded his rapid response. Heather showered him with a smile that said, "That's my guy." The llama handlers led the beasts to their places up front, anchoring the wedding party, and the ceremony commenced. 

###

During the reception, one of Heather's bridesmaids approached me to be her wedding planner for her upcoming nuptials. I tried not to burst out laughing, but I'm afraid I offended her when I couldn't say, "No, no, no, no, no!" fast enough. I reframed her request as thanks from Heather, though. She must have mentioned how helpful I had been, and I'll take that. Little did she know how silly this all was to me and how I would never enter the institution of marriage nor celebrate a life commitment in this way. 

As the evening wore on, I observed that Dad hadn't been this happy since Mom died. He had withdrawn socially for years after she passed. Now look at him. He worked the crowd and connected with old friends. Perhaps this will be a turning point for him. He peered me in a quiet observation spot under a tree. He stepped lightly, rocking his body as he approached. 

"Well, daughter. I can't thank you enough. You helped pull this off, and I'm grateful."

"Sure, Dad. It seems to have come off okay. Any problems there? I saw you talking to the band."

"Aw, well, there's always stuff to deal with. Neighbors are complaining about the noise level. Cousin Judy whined that children weren't allowed, but her sister Susie brought the twins. I need to cut my brothers off at the bar because… well… you know, family history."

"Sounds normal. Now, about those llamas. Nice touch."

"Oh, that. That must have been David's doing. Do you think that the videographers can edit out the mishap?"

"I hope not. It was the very best part of the ceremony, don't you think? And, Dad, I saw you slip the llama handlers a check." His lips turned down, and his eyebrows shot up. 

"Ha, well." Sheepishness enveloped him. "Don't you tell a soul, but I have to admit, they are calming." We laughed.

As the white Cadillac convertible approached, we strolled to the club's circular driveway. It was a perfect summer evening punctuated by hope and joy. As their final wedding celebration denouement, the delighted couple jumped into the classic car and spirited away.

As we waved them off, Dad turned to me. "Scout?"

"Yeah, Dad?"

"Will you make me a promise?" His demeanor changed to almost solemn.

"What's that?"

"If I give you a check right now to match what I've spent on your sister's wedding, will you promise me that if you ever get married, you'll just elope?" 

After we both cracked up, I said the words he longed to hear, "I do!"