Chapter 5: Rebel Revenge: Chapter 5

Vaughn Weston dropped his invisible mic and strode on into the wedding like he knew they’d be waiting for us to arrive. I stared, dumbstruck, as he strode up the short aisle and embraced an older man who thumped him on the back and hugged him close.

“Belly!” Mom came down the aisle to meet me in a slinky white gown, but wobbled a little, teetering toward the chairs set up for any attending guests.

I caught her arm, straightening her before she could go careening into them. “Whoa.” I took in her bloodshot eyes. “Are you drunk?”

She shook her head vigorously. “No! Not at all. Haven’t had a drop.”

I wasn’t sure that was true, her words were slightly slurred. But she was sober enough for me to tell her off. “That’s Bart’s son?”

Miranda glanced over her shoulder at the two men embracing, and then looked back at me to shrug. “I guess so! I haven’t met him. He lives in California.”

I clutched her arm. “You told me he was cute in a nerdy way!”

“He was in the photo Bart showed me. Maybe it was old?”

Christ Al-fucking-mighty. “It must have been from a land before time if you thought that man over there was just cute and dorky.”

There was no way Vaughn Weston had ever been either of those things. While I’d had a very embarrassing, awkward teenage years stage, I doubted Vaughn had ever had braces and acne. He’d probably been the bad boy smoking pot behind school buildings and fucking the head cheerleader behind her all-American boyfriend’s back.

“Come meet Bart before the judge gets here, okay?” Mom tugged me up the aisle, but she could barely walk a straight line, zigzagging until I grabbed her arm and did the guiding myself.

“Okay,” I whispered to her. “So we’re doing this drunk.”

“I swear, I’m not, Bel.” She shook her head a few times and then forced a smile for her fiancé. “Hey there, handsome. I want you to meet my daughter.”

Bart stumbled forward, only to be caught by Vaughn who’d lost his casual smirk and had replaced it with a frown of deep concern.

“Hi. Reb-b-el,” Bart stammered, like his tongue was too thick for his mouth.

“They’re smashed,’ Vaughn said quietly to me. “That’s my mom and her husband over there. She said they’ve been like this since they got here.”

“Fuck,” I muttered and nodded to Vaughn’s mom and stepdad when they introduced themselves as Riva and Karmichael.

They perched on seats in the front row, watching on with worried expressions.

“They can’t get married like this,” Vaughn said softly. “We’re going to have to tell the judge.”

“No!” Bart bellowed, lurching forward to clutch my mother’s hand. “We’re fine. I’m marrying her, no matter what anyone says.”

“Exactly what he said,” Mom agreed. “This is our wedding. We’re not leaving until we’re married.”

I frowned, but then an older woman entered the room, her big voice booming. “Ready to get hitched? Is everyone here?”

Vaughn looked at me, and I shrugged.

“There’s no doubt in my mind she wanted to do this. Did your dad say anything to you?”

“We aren’t exactly sitting around, drinking tea, and hashing out our feelings with Dr. Phil, but I doubt Dad would have proposed if he didn’t want to marry her.”

I sighed. “Then I guess we’re letting them do this?”

“Guess so.”

Mom kissed my cheek. “Love you, Belly. And I love him. This is good. I promise. We’re fine. We haven’t been drinking.”

I left her at the altar, clutching Bart’s hands. I sat on her side of the room, the only guest because I was the only family she had. While Vaughn sat next to his mom and stepdad.

The judge cleared her throat. “Dear friends and family of Miranda and Bart. We’re gathered here today to share their love…”

I was sure whatever the judge was saying was lovely, but as the minutes ticked by, my worry amped up.

Something was horribly wrong. Mom swayed, fingers clutched into Bart’s to keep her steady, but he wasn’t faring much better. His eyes were half-mast, his responses to the judge slurred.

“Oh,” Mom groaned, doubling over suddenly, clutching her stomach.

Despite it being the middle of her wedding, I lurched to my feet to grab her. “What is it? Are you okay?”

She straightened with effort and weakly pushed me away. “I’m fine. It’s nothing. Keep going. Do the vows. I want to say I do.”

The judge glanced at me with a question in her eyes, but I just nodded at her. I didn’t know what else to do. I practically hovered over my chair, just waiting for the moment I’d need to sprint to my mother’s side again.

On Bart’s side, Vaughn seemed ready to do the same. “Dad. I think you should stop. It’s okay, we can do this another day.”

Bart shook his head limply. “No. I’m marrying her today. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love her. I want her to be my wife.”

I cringed, glancing over at Riva, but she didn’t seem bothered by her ex’s words. She had her fingers clutched tight in Karmichael’s hands, both of them watching on with love and concern for their friend.

“Okay,” the judge said softly. “Bartholomew James Weston, do you take Miranda Leigh Kemp to be your lawful wedded wife? In sickness and in health, ’til death do you part?”

“Yes,” Bart lisped, barely audible, like his earlier demands had drained him of energy.

The judge bit her lip but turned to my mother. “Same question of you, Miranda.”

I appreciated her cutting through the red tape and getting to the point. I wanted to take my mother back to the hotel and call a doctor. This was more than drunk. They’d taken something, and neither of them were doing well on it.

“I do.”

“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”

Bart’s lips didn’t come close to my mother’s mouth. Like she’d been holding on just to say her vows, her eyes rolled back, and her knees came out from beneath her.

“Mom!” I dove for her, colliding with Vaughn who’d tried to catch her too.

Neither of us were quick enough to get to her, and she fell to the floor, an awkward tangle of arms, legs, and wedding dress.

Even through her makeup, the gray tinge of her skin shocked me. It had only been minutes since she’d met me at the door, wobbly but pink in the cheeks.

Now, she looked dead.

Very freaking dead.

I shoved my fingers against her neck, desperately searching for a sign she was still with me. “I can’t find a pulse!”

“Miranda!” Bart stumbled forward, but Karmichael managed to catch him.

“Oh my,” Riva cried, hand over her mouth. “What is going on? I’m calling nine-one-one.” She stood to make the call, while her husband steered Bart to a seat, then knelt to help Vaughn and me.

“Help me get her flat on the floor,” Vaughn barked at the older man.

I rocked back on my heels, watching in horror as the two men shifted my mother’s lifeless body off the stairs and onto the flat tiled floor. “Is she okay? Is she breathing?” I’d never had to check for someone’s pulse before. I wanted to believe that it had been there and I just couldn’t find it.

Vaughn put his ear to her mouth but shook his head. “Fuck. Nothing. We need to start CPR.”

He linked his fingers together, one hand on top of the other, and put the heels to my mother’s chest.

He leaned down on her so hard her ribs audibly cracked.

“Oh my God, no,” I cried. “Mom, please. Please. Wake up.”

Vaughn kept going, rhythmically pumping her chest while foam frothed at her lips.

I clutched her hand, tears streaming down my face. I squeezed her fingers, desperately hoping for even the tiniest of movements. Just something that would assure me she was still there.

“The ambulance is here!” Vaughn’s mom shouted. “Make way!”

But I couldn’t move.

I clutched her hand, willing her to live, even when the paramedic gently moved Vaughn aside and took over.

Vaughn sat back on his knees, eyes wide with shock, staring at the officer while he tried to find a pulse.

The man frowned. “No pulse. How long has she been down for?”

“Fifteen minutes,” the judge supplied.

Fifteen minutes? How had it been only fifteen minutes when it felt like a lifetime?

The man shook his head and then checked his watch. “Time of death, twelve forty-seven.”

“What? No!” I lurched forward, pressing my own hands to my mother’s chest.

But instantly, I knew the paramedic was right. It was her eyes. Where they’d once held pride, and love, mischief, and affection for me, now they stared aimlessly.

She was gone. A deathly silence fell over the room as we all stared in shock at the body on the floor.

“Bart!” Karmichael’s shout caught all of us by surprise.

Bart’s body fell to the floor beside my mother’s, as poetic as Romeo and Juliet.

None of us had noticed him quietly slip away, sitting on the chair. But I didn’t need to check his pulse to know he was gone too. The paramedic launched into a frantic round of CPR, but Vaughn knew it as well as I did. He let out a roar of anguish that I felt right down to my toes.

“What is happening?” Vaughn’s mom clutched her husband’s arm. “They were a bit off…but…not this.”

Police swarmed in, and any response was lost in a sea of stomping boots and police radios.

It didn’t matter anyway.

They were gone, and there was nothing bringing them back.