“What the fuck is happening in here?” I gasp.
“I nicked myself shaving.”
I lift the flannel back to see a huge laceration to his lip and my eyes bulge. “You shaved your lip? In what universe do you shave your fucking lip? You don’t shave a lip, nobody shaves a lip. Everybody knows you don’t shave a fucking lip.”
“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “Stop saying lip.”
My god.
“We do not have time for this shit today, Harrison.” I tear a tiny bit of toilet paper and put it on the cut.
“Argh,” He winces.
“Do not talk.” I press on the toilet paper hard. “You do not have whiskers on your face, let alone your fucking lip. Hold that on there and it will stop bleeding in a moment, it’s just a nick.”
Is it though?
I can feel my temperature rising by the second.
Why?
“Do not put your white shirt on until it stops bleeding, do you understand me?” I warn him.
“Yes.”
“So what are you going to do now?” I ask him to make sure.
“Get in the shower and wash my hair.”
“You haven’t showered yet?”
“No.”
I inhale deeply, this kid kills me.
“Okay, shower, I’m going downstairs. Call me when you are ready to dress so I can check the cut.”
I march back downstairs to find my three brothers relaxing happily on the terrace. “Give me a drink,” I whisper as I pick up my glass of champagne.
“What’s going on up there?” Jameson asks.
“Harrison shaved and nearly cut his lip off, that’s what’s going on. Looks like a fucking chainsaw massacre up there.”
“Jesus Christ,” Jameson mutters.
Elliot’s face falls. “Is he alright?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’m going to check on him.” Elliot bounds inside and disappears up the stairs.
I exhale heavily as I try to calm myself down. “It’s fine.”
“There’s heaps of blood?” Jameson frowns.
“Yep.”
“I cut my balls shaving them once, thought I was going to need a transfusion,” Christopher replies casually into his drink.
“You shave your balls?” Jameson frowns over at him.
“Yeah. Don’t you?” Christopher fires back.
“Stop talking about balls,” I snap, cutting them off. “I just want today to go smoothly.”
“It will, relax,” Christopher replies.
“Ahh…Tristan,” Elliot’s voice calls from inside. “We have a new problem.”
I glance inside.
“An even bigger one,” he calls again. “You might need to come in here.”
“Fuck me, what now?” I glance inside to see Harry standing awkwardly at the bottom of the stairs, the blood drains from my face.
His suit is four sizes too small. The sleeves are midway up his forearms and the trouser pants are halfway up his shins. He can hardly move in it at all.
“What the fuck is that shit?” I cry.
Jameson and Christopher start to laugh from behind me.
“I asked you to try your suit on last Wednesday when it arrived and you told me it fits…” I cry in an outrage. “You lied about trying it on?”
“I didn’t get around to it yet,” he fires back.
“Didn’t get around to it, I tell you what I’m about to get around to, Harrison…ending you,” I yell as I glance at my watch. “This is a disaster.”
Christopher and Jameson are laughing hard now.
“Shut the fuck up, you two,” I yell.
“It’s fine.” Elliot calmly takes out his phone, “I’m calling the seamstress now, they can deliver another suit. We have time. They have heaps of the same suits there. It’s going to be fine.” He smiles to Harry. “It’s all fine.”
This is as far from fine as physically possible.
I begin to pace as Jameson and Christopher continue to snicker between themselves. I turn toward them, infuriated. “Unless you two want to be murdered, I would strongly advise you to shut your mouths.”
“We will if we get around to it,” Christopher replies like the smart-ass he is, Jameson bursts out laughing again.
I hold my temples; I do not need this shit from these assholes today.
“Okay, well when will that be?” Elliot’s eyes flick to me as he listens. “Well that’s not good enough, the wedding is in an hour.” He fakes a smile as he listens again and I know that look, the psychotic part of his brain is just about to be activated. “I understand that you said to try it on when we got it. However, that didn’t happen.” His eyes flick up to Harry and he puts his finger up and pretends to slice his throat.
Harry smiles, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
Don’t smile, fucker.
“What size is the suit?” Elliot asks.
Jameson takes the jacket off Harry and looks at the label. “It’s a thirty-two.”
“Thirty-two,” Elliot replies to the person on the phone. “That’s the right size?” He frowns. “Impossible. He hasn’t grown that much in three weeks; he isn’t the fucking Hulk, Janet.”
Christopher and Jameson burst out laughing and I tip my head back and drain my glass. “This is unbelievable.”
“We are on our way down now,” Elliot snaps. “You have every suit size ready and waiting.” He hangs up. “Get in the car.”
“What?” My eyes widen.
“We’ve got to go to the suit place.”
“What? Now?” I gasp. “We don’t have time.”
“We don’t have time to call for the car, but if we drive ourselves we’ll make it. We’ll go straight to the church from the suit shop. I’ll drive. It’s fine, I’ve totally got this,” Elliot replies.
“Elliot is right, it is fine. Stop wasting time and let’s go,” Christopher replies.
“I wanted a relaxing wedding day,” I scream. “Can anything ever run smoothly around here?”
Jameson and Christopher begin to round everyone up in a whirlwind and five minutes later we are all in the elevator. I glance over to Fletcher; he looks like he just crawled out of a dumpster. “Did you even do your hair?”
“I didn’t have time,” he gasps.
“You look like a hobo,” I whisper angrily.
“I forgot to put on deodorant,” Patrick chimes in.
I close my eyes to stop myself from speaking…or yelling…or swearing.
Fainting for that matter.
All the swear words are on the tip of my tongue…and then some new ones that haven’t even been discovered yet.
Jameson’s shoulders bounce as he tries to hold in his giggles.
The elevator doors open and everyone runs for the car. “Put the back seats up,” I yell.”
“Okay.”
“Patrick and Fletch, climb into the back.”
I pop the trunk and they climb into the back seat and fold the extra seats up, two minutes later we are flying out of the parking lot. Elliot is driving, Jameson is the navigator, Christopher, Harry and I are in the back seat and Tricky and Fletch are squeezed into the back row.