Cold Feet. Francois Keyser

exclaims to the groom, “Close the goddamn door, you idiot!”

      He reaches to close it but can’t without slipping out of the bridesmaid and revealing himself to everyone watching.

      Trish steps forward. She brandishes the cake knife threateningly, “You dare close this fucking door and I’ll cut your cock off you cheating son of a bitch!”

      The groom, Eric, goes a deeper shade of red and tries to placate Trish, “Babe, I’m sorry. I am, I didn’t mean to…”

      “Shut up!” Trish screams. “Shut up! Don’t try to sell me your lies!”

      Viola takes Trish’s arm but she shrugs it off. Camera flashes are going off intermittently and the situation is becoming increasingly embarrassing for everyone. I step forward around Trish and I close the door. When I turn, Trish screams at me.

      “Who the hell are you! Why are you defending him?”

      “I’m not defending him,” I reply calmly but firmly as I step up to Trish. She does not resist as she lets me gently relieve her of the cake knife. I lower my voice, “It is embarrassing you and everyone.”

      She looks up at me and bursts into tears as she collapses against me. I put my arms around her and support her as she is wracked by huge sobs. She tries to talk as she sobs and I cannot understand a word she is saying. Over her head, I meet Viola’s eyes which are looking at me with a mixture of fading anger and newfound respect. I hold Trish close as she continues to sob. Finally, a couple presses through the crowd and approaches us.

      I recognize them as Trish’s parents.

      “Thanks,” her father says. He gently takes her arm. “Honey, daddy’s here. It’s okay,” he says softly. Her father gently pries her loose from me and she turns to her father, hugs him, and continues sobbing.

      “I’m sorry for what’s happened, sir. Truly sorry,” I say.

      Her father nods, “Thank you,” he says again.

      I remove a business card and hand it to Trish’s mother since her father’s hands are full holding Trish. Her mother takes the card, looks at it, and then at me. I don’t need to say anything. The message is clear.

      “Thank you, Rick,” Trish’s mother says. I simply nod and then turn to leave.

      When I turn, Viola is there. She is looking at me again with narrowed eyes. I can tell she’s angry.

      I sidestep her and push my way through the crowd that has already started thinning.

      I can feel Viola’s eyes on my back as I leave. I almost expect her to chase me down but I think she knows that wouldn’t be a good idea on so many fronts. In a way I want her to chase me down. I want to see her, talk to her, even argue with her as long as I get to speak to her again. She has no idea of the effect she has had on me.

      I reach the lobby and give the valet my ticket. My car arrives soon enough and I leave.