“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she huffed.
“It won’t work, you know.”
Heidi’s fingers gripped the bouquet in her hands so tightly, little pieces of baby’s breath fell to the floor.
“Here you are, my dear.” Papa shoved the glass of water at Mother, and climbed into his seat.
The pastor cleared his throat, and slid his eyeglasses up his nose. “Dearly beloved…”
“Wait!” Mother climbed over Papa’s feet and headed to the altar. “I forgot I wanted you to wear my mother’s pearls.”
Heidi could not keep in the giggles, and snorted as one burst forth.
Mother fumbled with the pearls around her own neck, and then pushed aside the back of Heidi’s veil and fastened them around her. She turned her to face the congregation. “There. Doesn’t she look lovely?”
Papa pulled Mother away from Heidi, and with his hand wrapped around her arm escorted her back to the pew once more. “Mary, you are making a spectacle of your daughter’s wedding.”
“Harold-”
Papa held up his hand. “This nonsense will stop now. Sit down and be quiet.” He nodded to the Pastor. “Continue.”
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the presence-“
The door at the back of the church flew open, and slammed against the wall. “Stop!”
“Thank God,” Mother exclaimed, and slumped against the back of the pew. Papa blinked rapidly, his gaze going from her mother to Michael.
Michael?
Heidi’s eyes grew wide as he ran down the aisle, waving his arms. What’s Michael doing here? Her heart thumped, and she broke into a smile.
He raced up the few steps, wrenched her hands from Clarence’s grasp, and whipped her around to face him. The congregation sat in silence for a moment, then gasps and murmurs rose in the air.
“What are you doing here?” Heidi’s heart beat a rat-a-tat-tat and she tamped down the desire to yank Michael down the steps and race for the door. This sweaty, hair-falling-onto-his forehead, flushed, and panting man never looked so good.
Michael took a deep breath and pulled her to him. “You don’t have to marry him, sweetheart.”
She took in a sharp breath. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I know about the blackmail.” Michael turned to Clarence, his jaw tightening. “And your little scheme won’t work.”
The mumbling from the congregation grew louder.
“Unhand my bride!” Clarence stepped forward, and grabbed Heidi’s hand, attempting to pull her to him. Michael held firm.
“Clarence, let go.” Heidi fumed.
“No. You are my bride. This…this shopkeeper, who comes from a family of whores doesn’t deserve you.”
Heidi drew her arm back, and slapped Clarence in the face with her bouquet. Rose petals flew in all directions, and Clarence spit greenery from his mouth.
“How dare you?” She lowered her voice to a stage whisper. “You brought your whore to our wedding.”
The Pastor’s eyebrows shot to his hairline, and he swallowed furiously.
“Gloria is not a whore. Not any longer.”
The Pastor groaned.