Page 18

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.