"Do not take a gulp," Presley snaps. "That’s going to be gross, and we won’t be able to serve it." She runs to the closet and comes back with shot glasses. "Have at it."
"Thank you," Bennett says, pouring a shot, and I don’t even wait for him to finish pouring his own before I swallow down the amber liquid. It burns all the way down to my stomach, and I hold out the glass for another one. He looks at Shelby, and she nods her head, and he pours me another one. "I don’t think that you should have any more after that."
"Oh my God," Presley says. "Imagine you say her name while you are exchanging vows?" She puts both hands to her cheeks, and Shelby gasps and jumps up from her seat beside me.
"What is wrong with you? Why would you put that out into the universe?” she huffs at her, and then the door opens and all of our eyes go to Clarabella, who stands there.
"So, good news," she says, but from how she looks, there has to be some bad also. "Luke said to leave everything to him, and he’ll figure it out."
"Thank God," Shelby says from beside me.
"And bad news," Clarabella continues talking and then stops when the sound of sirens starts coming closer and closer. "We have a slight problem."
Chapter 5
Travis
"What the hell is happening?" I look at Clarabella.
"Jennifer is having an allergic reaction to something, and we don’t know what," Clarabella starts to say, and we all rush toward the bridal suite. "We think it’s the funeral flowers."
"Funeral flowers?" Bennett asks them as we walk down the stairs.
"We got the wrong flowers," Presley states as she follows us. "Instead of the wedding flowers, we got funeral flowers. We didn’t want to tell you because, well, how much can go wrong with one wedding?"
"Isn’t it like a three-strikes-and-you’re-out kind of thing?" Bennett asks, and Presley slaps his shoulder. "I’m just asking, how do I know? There was the fridge." He holds up one finger. "The fire, and now this. Oh, and we forgot that Harlow showed up, so it’s really four strikes."
"It’s going to be fine," Clarabella reassures me. "We just had to call the ambulance because, well, her throat started to get scratchy, and then well." We all stop and look at her. "Her face blew up."
"You," Shelby says. "Stay here." She looks at Bennett. "You keep him here. It’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding."
"Trust me, this isn’t what is going to bring bad luck to this wedding," Bennett counters, and all my sisters glare at him. He holds up his hands. "Fine, I’ll man the station. Jeez, you try to make a joke and everyone wants to jump down your throat."
My sisters run into the room at the same time as the ambulance technicians come in through the back door. "Excuse us," they say and go into the room. I can hear the commotion in the room, and all I can do is pace in front of the door.
"This is crazy." I run my hand through my hair and hold my neck, the tension coming all through my body.
"Look at the bright side," Bennett says. "How many people can be like, on my wedding day…"
I shake my head and stop moving when the doors open, and Jennifer is rushed past me on a gurney.
"What is going on?" I ask, running next to her, and I can’t see her face.
"We have to get her to the hospital. She’s having a severe allergic reaction," one of the EMTs says, and everything is happening so fast I don’t have a minute to think.
"Oh my God." I run out toward the ambulance and see them placing the gurney inside. One of the ambulance technicians looks at me.
"I assume you are the groom. Are you coming with us?" he asks, and I nod my head, and he moves to the side to give me a chance to get up. I put my foot on the step and get into the ambulance.
"Let us know," Shelby starts to say when the ambulance technician closes the back door. The ambulance takes off a second later.
"Jennifer," I say, getting to her side, and she looks over at me, and I try not to freak out. Her lips are swollen ten times their size. One of her eyes is sealed shut. The other one is slowly going to close. "Are you okay?" I hold her hand in mine and try not to show her how freaked out I am.
"My throat is scratchy," she says and tries to clear her throat.
"Did you guys give her an EpiPen?" I look over at the technician, who just nods his head.