A Familiar Ring

CHAPTER 3: Never Attempt to Perfect Chaos, Just Manage It

Mark was nervous and sweating like a sinner on Communion Sunday. It wasn't just his wife who was giving him the evil eye but everyone in the church was too. And so, because all eyes were on him, he felt like he was supposed to say something. He walked over to the podium where the pastor was standing and whispered something to him. The pastor nodded and Mark quickly took the microphone. He cleared his throat and smiled, nervously, at his wife as if to say everything was under control.

"Phewww," Mark exhaled as he ran his right hand over his waves. "I didn't know this wedding would be a Tyler Perry production. This situation definitely was not in the best man's handbook," he looked over towards the rest of the groomsmen, "Y'all cover this in Groomsmen boot camp or something?" They all shook their heads no. The church managed to mutter some laughter as he attempted easing the tension through comedy. It was working on everyone but Anya.

"Man, this is crazy but, uh, we all family in here so let's cover some ground rules real quick. First things first: don't put the bride and groom business all out in the street. We don't know what the fu-- excuse me, we don't know what's going on? Let's give them their own time to figure that out and a little respect."

"Mmhmm!" some of the older women in the church hummed in unison.

"Secondly, y'all heard Cadence. So I guess we finna turn this into Cash Pop. Remember: we still in the house of the Lord, so no fighting over who gets what." More laughter from the guests.

"Who runnin' the numbers?" an older gentleman yelled out getting a more gregarious laughter from the crowd.

"We gon' get right on that, give us about 20 minutes. We'll send somebody around." Even Mark had to let out a chuckle, because he knew that man was serious.

"Lastly, I don't want all of this to go to waste," he waved his hand down his body. The church was in stitches at this point. Even Anya revealed a smirk.

"Let's eat, maybe take some new Facebook profile pictures, flick it up for the 'Gram, meet new people and head on back home," Mark finished.

He successfully eased the tension up in the room. The crowd was laughing and shuffling their way out the doors over to the outdoor reception that was being held in the grand open field behind the church.

"Nice save," Corey, another groomsman, said.

"I'm not saved from nothing yet. Do you see my wife?" Mark replied.

"Yeah, shawty finna grill you like a steak pleighboi. But, at least you moved the crowd. That was starting to get real awkward."

"Yeah."

"So, I'm gonna ask the obvious," Corey states in a very hushed tone, "Who was shawty in the green dress? She was thick as hell, by the way. And where the hell Duke at?"

"Mane, I have no idea. Honest to God! But when I find him it's..." Mark allowed for his sentence trail off when he noticed his wife approaching him.

"Hey honey. Can I talk to you for a bit?" Anya interjected.

"Corey, let me holla at the love of my life for a moment. And tell the DJ to pretend we at Follie's, turn this sad affair into the party of the year!"

Corey gave Mark a headnod and went to join the rest of the wedding party in the outdoor banquet area. The church had cleared out quickly but there were still a few more people lingering inside. Mark had wished they'd stay around to save him from the verbal lashing he knew his wife was about to unleash. He knew he didn't have any answers for any of her questions and he knew how much that bothered her. Prior to this day, they never had reasons to mistrust each other. They were the couple that people pine over. But today they found themselves thrown into a tumultuous drama and neither one of them had anything to do with it.