On the day of Mabel and Adam’s wedding, they’re stuck in a limousine as they crawl along the freeway, thanks to traffic. Instead of keeping her mother’s guests entertained, Mabel’s daughter, Amanda, takes over the wedding, stealing the limelight. Will Mabel retaliate at the wedding or just let Amanda learn her lesson another way?
Weddings are supposed to be magical, right? An entire day dedicated to the culmination of love, months of planning, and a chance to stand with your person, promising to be with them forever… That was the dream, at least, until my daughter Amanda turned it into an absolute nightmare.
Sigh.
It started with traffic, of course. My fiancé Adam and I were stuck on the freeway in our limousine, trapped in a sea of brake lights thanks to an overturned truck miles ahead. We weren’t too worried about the traditions.
We were both married before, so seeing each other before the ceremony was the least of our concerns. “Time, please, Ben?” I called through the intercom for our driver. “It’s difficult to say, Mabel,” he said.
“But I’m trying to gap in whenever I can! I will get you and Adam down the aisle!”
We were definitely going to be late. “Love, call Amanda,” Adam said, his jaw tight as he tapped on the seat.
“Tell her to sort out the guests, just get the band going and keep people entertained.”
I dialed my daughter, already feeling the pressure. She picked up on the second ring. “Hey, sweetie,” I said the moment she answered.
“We’re stuck in traffic. There has been an accident, so everything is at a standstill. Can you make sure everything’s running smoothly at the venue?
We’ll be about 30 minutes or so. Adam said to get the band playing.”
“Of course, Mommy!” Amanda chirped, her voice syrupy sweet. “Don’t you worry about a thing other than getting here.
I’ve got everything else handled. Be safe!”
I exhaled, letting her assurance calm my nerves. But not ten minutes later, my phone buzzed.
It was my sister, Jess. Her voice was frantic. “Sis, you have to come here now!
It’s Amanda, she…” her voice trailed off before the call cut off. “She’s what?” I muttered, immediately redialing, but it went straight to voicemail. A heavy pit settled in my stomach, but there was nothing we could do except crawl forward in the traffic.
“What do you think Jess meant? What do you think is going on?” I asked Adam after filling him in. “Oh, honey,” he said.
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
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