Sam
As we stand under the tent in Reggie and Bev’s backyard, I smile to myself when Noel squeezes the life out of my hand for the hundredth time in the last fifteen minutes as we watch Alex and Scheva pledge their lives to each other. The bride and groom are standing under a wooden lattice arch completely covered in orange, red, and yellow mums. Noel and I stand off to their right, Noel unhappily wearing a giant cardboard box painted to look like an oven with a magazine photo cut-out of an actual baby cooking, visible through a window in the oven door. I’m in a chef’s hat and apron. Of course, the happy couple is dressed as a bride and groom, while the rest of us look like we fell off the back of a Halloween costume truck. But since it’s their day, I won’t complain.
The weather couldn’t be more perfect. The sun is shining brightly, the temperature is in the low seventies, and all of the trees surrounding the backyard are filled with fall-colored leaves that haven’t dropped to the ground yet, making the perfect backdrop for the Halloween-themed ceremony. Reggie and Bev sit in the front row, dressed as a priest and a nun, as they were instructed. And surprisingly, every single guest in attendance showed up wearing a costume. As I look out at the rows of chairs on either side of the aisle, I see everything from doctors and nurses to a guy in a red-and-white striped shirt and matching hat, dressed as Waldo (I’m pretty proud of myself for finding him immediately in the sea of people, I kick ass at Where’s Waldo)—and even a giant plastic Mr. Peanut.
“It’s so sweet you’re getting emotional over their vows,” I whisper out of the corner of my mouth, as we stand a few feet away from the happy couple. I shoot Noel a smile when she gives my hand another death-grip squeeze.
“I’m not emotional,” she says in a low voice through clenched teeth. “How could anyone possibly be emotional with what they’re saying?”
“I promise to never tell you I have a headache when you want sex, and I vow to always love you, even when you suggest we need to spice things up with a threesome.”
Alex wipes a tear from his eye when Scheva finishes her vows. They quickly exchange rings, and the minister declares them husband and wife. Everyone seated stands up and starts to clap as Alex and Scheva lean in for a kiss, and I silently thank God they made it through their own wedding ceremony without any mishaps.
As soon as their lips touch, a shrill scream pierces the air and all eyes under the tent turn to see Aunt Bobbie racing up the center aisle. She’s wearing a white, floor-length sparkly dress covered with red, yellow, green, and blue felt circles. The dress is skintight, making her run look more like a waddle. A short, curly, bright-red wig is askew on top of her head, and her normally pristine makeup is horrifying. Her red lipstick is way outside the lines and looks like she just drew a giant red circle around her mouth, and she covered every inch of her face with cakey white makeup that is half sweated off, half smeared, leaving some of her natural skin tone peeking through the white mess.
“What in the actual fork?” Noel mutters.
“Is she dressed like a drag clown? She was supposed to be Barbra Streisand!” Scheva complains.
“Oh my God. There are people chasing her,” I mutter with a shake of my head when a large mob of angry people comes bursting into the tent, shouting and racing after Aunt Bobbie.
The assembled guests start tipping over chairs as they make a hasty exit out of the tent and away from whatever the hell is happening right now.
Aunt Bobbie flies the rest of the way down the aisle and takes cover behind us, ducking down and clinging to the back of my shirt.
The angry group of people comes to a stop right in front of Alex, Scheva, Noel, and I. Putting my hands up in the air in a sign of peace, I take a step forward to talk to them, with Aunt Bobbie still holding tight to me.
“This is private property, and we’re in the middle of a wedding ceremony. I’m going to have to ask you people to kindly leave,” I inform them.
“Um, Sam?” Noel whispers.
I start to look over at my wife when one of the men in front of the pack points behind me.
“We caught her red handed! She was doing it in broad daylight!” he shouts angrily.
“My daughter has been crying for three solid nights because of her!” someone else yells.
“Sam . . .” Noel says my name again, but I’m too busy trying to figure out what these people are doing here and how to stop any other disaster from ruining Alex and Scheva’s wedding.
“What the hell are they talking about?” I ask Aunt Bobbie, turning my head to look back at her.
“So, it turns out, I’m the clown from the news. I wondered why I kept waking up every morning with white, cakey makeup all over my face and pillows. I should probably stop doing drugs,” she whispers.
“See?! I told you clowns weren’t bad! It’s just Bobbie with a couple of screws loose,” Reggie pipes up as he walks away from his chair in the front row to join us.
Noel’s hand latches on to my arm and squeezes hard.
“Sam.”
I figure she’s probably just upset about the fact that her Aunt Bobbie has caused a riot with her stupidity, so I take another step forward to try and defuse the situation and get everyone to calm down.
“Will you guys go home and forget this ever happened if Bobbie apologizes and promises to never do anything like this again?” I ask the crowd.
There are a bunch of murmurs from the people as they talk amongst themselves. After a few minutes, one of the women speaks up.
“We will, but only if she apologizes and you take down that hideous display in the front yard. It’s scaring small children, and we’ve had to start taking detours so we don’t drive by the house. It’s very inconvenient.”
“HORSESHIT!” Reggie shouts. “That display is not coming down until the votes are tallied tomorrow night after trick-or-treat. I’ve got a title to defend!”
The group chuckles softly, and the woman with the demands speaks again.
“Reggie, have you even looked at the display across the street? It’s the best one we’ve ever seen!”
Oh, no. Please, God, no.
“Such attention to detail. Did you see the jack-o’-lanterns? Those must have taken hours to carve.”
“And the giant Jack Skellington? That was hand-painted. Best one I’ve ever seen.”
“And the little dog, Zero! Did you guys see that his tail wags? I don’t know how they did it, but it’s adorable.”
“Have you seen the projector in the front windows? It plays the movie against the glass. That’s high-tech and awesome.”
I watch silently as Reggie’s face turns the color of a tomato, and I hope to God someone here has a nitroglycerin pill, because he’s about two seconds away from having a full-blown heart attack.
Right when Reggie opens his mouth to let hellfire and brimstone rain down on everyone, Noel lets out her own bloodcurdling scream.
“SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAM!”
Everyone turns in her direction, and my heart starts beating out of my chest when I see how flushed her face is.
“Honey? What’s wrong?”
She mumbles something under her breath as she squeezes her eyes closed, and I notice beads of sweat popping out on her forehead.
“You’re going to have to speak up. And just so you know, I can’t take anything you say seriously right now when you’re dressed like a kitchen appliance,” Alex laughs.
“I’M IN MOTHER FORKING LABOR AND MY GOSH DINGED WATER JUST BROKE!” Noel screams at the top of her lungs.
“See? It sounds dumb when you’re not using real swear words. I told you this was a stupid idea,” Alex mutters. My eyes widen in shock and my jaw drops when I look down at Noel’s feet to see a small puddle of water.
In all the baby books I’ve read, they tell you not to panic. You should remain calm, have a plan, and follow it. But our plan wasn’t supposed to go into effect for another week and OH MY FUCKING GOD MY WIFE IS IN LABOR!
“What do you need me to do?” I ask her when she bends at the waist and smacks her hand against the oven door of her costume, where a happy baby is lying on its back, looking out at everyone with a gummy smile.
“GET THIS STUPID SPORKING COSTUME OFF ME! I’M NOT GIVING BIRTH DRESSED LIKE AN OVEN WITH A BABY COOKING AT 450 DEGREES!” she screams through clenched teeth as she winces in pain with another contraction.
Everyone moves at once, helping me rip the cardboard box around Noel into a hundred pieces until she’s standing next to me in a tank top and yoga pants, both of her hands flying to her stomach as she yells out in pain.
“I NEED A DOCTOR! SOMEONE GET ME A DOCTOR!” I scream at the top of my lungs.
No less than fifteen men and women in scrubs come running up to us, pushing people out of the way as they go. I roll my eyes as they hover around us.
“I meant real doctors,” I complain, wondering why in the hell so many people decided to dress up as medical personnel for this wedding.
“We are real doctors!” they shout in unison.
I point at the guy standing closest to me.
“No, you aren’t. Especially you, Greg. Alex and I work with you.”
Greg from work moves closer to me and lowers his voice, looking back over his shoulder at Scheva.
“Scheva told us we had to stay in character today or she’d chop off our balls. But I saw a cow birth on TV once. I can totally do this. Have your wife take off her pants and get on all fours.”
Before I can punch Greg in the face, Scheva comes rushing over to us and wraps her arms around Noel.
“I just called nine-one-one. Ambulance should be here any second now. Oh my God. You’re going to have a baby today!” she tells Noel.
“Why in the hell would you call nine-one-one? My car is right out front,” I remind Scheva.
“Um, because I don’t have anyone wearing an EMS worker costume at my wedding, Sam. How will the pictures look if I don’t have an EMS worker in the mix? Jesus, get your shit together, Sam,” Scheva mutters with a roll of her eyes.
“I ruined your wedding,” Noel sobs to her best friend.
Moving to stand in front of Noel, I take her face in my hands and wipe the tears from her cheeks as Scheva gives her a gentle squeeze.
“You didn’t ruin anything. Your bun is coming out of the oven. It’s perfect!” Scheva reassures her as we hear the wail of the ambulance siren out front.
Bending down, I scoop Noel up into my arms, and Alex and Scheva move in front of us, clearing a path and telling people to get out of the way. The paramedics meet us on the side of the house with a gurney, and they help me get Noel situated and buckled in. I grab her hand and give it a kiss as I run beside her, then help them load her into the back of the ambulance.
“Honey, we’ll be right behind you! Make sure they save me a pair of scrubs for the delivery room!” Bev shouts to Noel with a wave as we both stare out at them through the ambulance doors.
“Make sure they save me the afterbirth! I hear it’s high in protein!” Alex adds with a thumbs up.
The doors close with a slam and I sit down on the bench next to the gurney, one hand still holding tightly to Noel’s as I use to other one to smooth sweaty strands of hair off her forehead and cheeks.
“We’re going to have a baby,” I whisper to her with a smile, my eyes filling with tears.
“We’re going to have a baby,” she whispers back as the paramedic starts an IV line in her other arm. “Please don’t let any of those crazy people in the delivery room to stare at my vagina.”
I chuckle softly before leaning down and kissing the top of her head. Noel squeezes my hand harder and starts taking chanting breaths through a contraction.
“I will guard the delivery room and your vagina with my life,” I reassure her as the ambulance sails through intersections and stop signs and gets us to the hospital in record time.