Wedding Toast

         Roy quietly flicked the camera button from picture to video. Mere pictures of the open-mouthed guests at Henry and Jenna’s wedding wouldn’t do this moment justice. No, the Best Man Joe’s hiccupy toast positively demanded a video. Mother and daughter had bargained hard with Roy over his services as wedding photographer, surely they expected him to deliver a product worthy of their lofty family. And Joe’s roast was singularly worth the price they had finally agreed to. Roy smirked as he refocused from the guests to the red-faced Jenna. Far from a bride’s gentle blush, her face resembled an over-ripe tomato. Its round contours even matched the shape of one. As Henry put a conciliatory hand on her bare chunky arm, Jenna glared at him as she violently shook it off. Roy obligingly zoomed in on the media-dubbed golden couple. Every moment had to be recorded for posterity. Roy shook with silent mirth as there was another gasp from the blue-blooded wedding party, and Jenna almost pulled Joe down with her meaty hands. So this was how to get to the brat, he thought. If only it had been sooner.

          Jenna was struck by a growing sense of horror. Her artfully cut Oscar de la Renta wedding sheath, already a size too small, was suddenly too tight to breathe in. To top it off Henry was comforting, comforting her, while Joe shredded her reputation in front of all her sorority sisters. Wasn’t Henry supposed to defend her? Didn’t he know she had been the president of Phi Delta Nu, the most exclusive sorority on campus, and only sisters with the cleanest, most spotless, reputations got in? And she had led it since sophomore year, when the incoming president had abruptly become the outgoing one. Rita had been stripped of her position when her vice-president Jenna had suggested that all rooms be subjected to an university search to prove the high standards of the incoming slate. When marijuana had been found in Rita’s room, everyone, including Jenna’s father, had been shocked. He was the one who had urged Jenna to accept the post of President immediately. Rita was expelled the next day itself, a surprisingly strong punishment for the first offense of an outstanding student. Now, listening to Joe expose her wild co-ed adventures, many of which her bodyguards had long since hushed up with bribes and threats, Jenna suddenly wondered how Joe knew. She let out a soft yelp as Henry’s conciliatory hand turned bitingly hard at a reference to a sex orgy. His hard eyes matched those of her father’s guests.

         George sensed the change in the guests’ mood as soon as he walked back to the wedding tent. An international call had forced him to miss the first half of the Joe’s speech, but as he listened, he got the sense that Joe wasn’t drunk at all. His eyes were too sharp, his posture too deliberately slouched. He was deliberately shredding Jenna’s reputation, and in turn his, in front of some of the most important leaders in the country. Joe had always been a bit of a crusader, and George had never approved of Henry’s friendship with him. But he was the Father of the Bride, and therefore had some limitations. But with a reference to promiscuity, Joe went too far. At George’s nod, the sound was switched off and Joe escorted off-premises.

         }Good work, Joe, thought Roy, as he packed up his equipment and left the suddenly quiet wedding. He had been the angel Roy needed to avenge his sister Rita’s suicide. Joe had never liked the girl his best friend was marrying, and hearing about Jenna’s dirty politics in college had been the last straw. He had readily agreed to Roy’s plan. Hurt her in front of the international press. In a year when her father, Mr. Wholesome American, was running for election. Lack of evidence had left Roy’s hands tied before, but not this time. Jenna’s airhead friends had provided the details, Joe had been the tool. Jenna would learn that even the U.S. President’s daughter had her limits.