At the wedding toast, my parents had just lifted their cups when the cups burst open.
Red wine mixed with cream and chili water exploded all over them, straight in their faces.
My mother's newly bought formal dress was soaked through in an instant, greasy cream clinging to her hair.
My father instinctively reached to shield her, stepped on a shard of broken porcelain, and went down hard.
May Henson's male assistant, Colin Delgado, stood off to the side, shoulders shaking with laughter.
"Wow! They look like two ridiculous fat water buffaloes!"
"That was a little touch I designed for your wedding. I didn't think the trick-cup would be so sensitive."
I was shaking with rage, and he only fanned the flames.
"The groom isn't allowed to get angry. They say online that if you keep it cool and easy, everything goes smoothly!"
May pressed down on my hand and murmured, frowning,
"Colin was just trying to warm up the room for you, out of kindness."
"Can't you see everyone's laughing and having a good time? Don't be so petty and ungrateful."
My mother wiped miserably at the cream on her face, her eyes red-rimmed, but she still forced a smile at me.
"Homer, we're fine."
"A wedding is a happy day. Don't fight over us."
In that moment, I looked at my parents standing there in ruins, still killing themselves to save face for May.
And it hit me how sickening and absurd this whole wedding was.
They couldn't bear to see me embarrassed.
But May could.
If that was how it was.
Then I wasn't going through with this marriage.
...
My father braced himself against the floor to stand, the blood on his palm smearing across the red carpet.
Colin frowned at once.
"Sir, don't move just yet."
"May had this carpet ordered specially from overseas. Blood is hard to get out."
Hearing that, my mother scrambled down and started scrubbing at the little smear of blood with her sleeve.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
"We didn't mean to."
Colin looked down at them from above, his tone like a man tidying up the mess at a wedding.
"I did warn everyone earlier that the cups had a mechanism."
"Maybe sir and ma'am were too nervous to hear it."
The murmuring around us dropped low.
Someone laughed quietly.
"So he did warn them."
"The groom's parents have probably never seen anything like this. No wonder they couldn't keep up."
My fingertips went tight with anger.
"Colin Delgado, you—"
Before I could finish, May had already stepped in front of him.
"Colin already apologized."
"And your parents said they're fine."
She looked at me, her voice dropping low.
"Homer James, do you have to embarrass everyone at your own wedding?"
I stared at her, stunned.
My father's hand was still bleeding.
My mother's shoulders were shaking from the cold.
And all she cared about was Colin losing face.
My father, as if afraid I'd really lose it, quickly tugged at my sleeve.
"Homer, let it go."
"Your mom and I will go clean up. You get on with the wedding."
Colin jumped in at once.
"The lounge is packed with the Henson family relatives right now."
"Why don't sir and ma'am go handle it in the storage room in back?"
"There's a mop and rags over there."
"And be quick about it. Cream is a pain to clean once it drips on the floor."
My mother's face went white for a second, then she quickly lowered her head.
"Sorry to trouble you."
"We'll get it cleaned up."
She was the one who'd been humiliated.
Yet there she was, bowing the whole way and apologizing like she'd done something wrong.
I followed them toward the back.
The storage room was cramped.
As my mother went in, the hem of her dress caught on a metal rack and tore open in a long slit.
She hurriedly pressed it down with her hand.
"It's fine."
"The wedding lights are dim anyway. No one will see."
She opened her bag. Inside lay a new shawl, folded up neat and square.
