“Move, Evelyn,” Jeff said. His voice wasn’t loud, but it had a sharp edge I’d never heard before.
“Jeff, darling, she’s clearly unstable—”
“I said MOVE.”
Jeff pushed past his mother. He reached me in four strides, catching me as my legs finally gave out from the adrenaline crash.
“She told us the Rose Garden flooded,” Jeff whispered into my hair. “She said you were waiting for us here.”
“She lied, Jeff,” I sobbed into his tuxedo. “She tried to steal our day.”
Jeff turned around to face the congregation. He looked at his mother, who was clutching her pearls, trying to summon tears of her own.
“Mom,” Jeff said, his voice carrying to the back of the room. “You have exactly sixty seconds to leave this building. If you’re still here when I count to sixty, you won’t be in our lives. Ever.”
Evelyn opened her mouth to protest, saw the look on her son’s face, and realized she had finally played her last card. She gathered her handbag and scurried down the side aisle, the clicking of her heels the only sound in the church.
Jeff turned back to me. He took his pocket square and gently wiped a smudge of road grease from my cheek.
“You look beautiful,” he whispered.
“I look like a highway accident,” I laughed through my tears.
“My favorite kind of accident.” He looked at the priest. “We aren’t doing the traditional vows. Just get us to the ‘I do’ part. We’ve had enough travel for one day.”
We got married right then and there. My hair was a mess, the venue was wrong, and the mother of the groom was somewhere on the I-95 heading home in disgrace. But as Jeff kissed me, I knew one thing for sure:
The next time Evelyn invited us for dinner, we’d be “checking the venue” first.