They Turned My Family Into Free Labor at My Own Wedding

Right before the ceremony started, my brother-in-law pulled the red boutonniere off my father's chest.

He clipped a green staff badge on in its place.

*Parking Attendant, No. 01*

My mother's corsage was taken too.

She got handed an apron.

*Kitchen Cleanup, No. 02*

My father kept smiling.

"It's family. Lending a hand's the least we can do."

Brad Fleming tossed him a walkie-talkie.

"Parking lot's jammed. Get down there."

I stopped my father.

"He's here for the wedding, not to work."

Tamara Fleming came over.

"Your people are family. One day of helping, what's the big deal?"

"Or am I supposed to pay them to do it?"

Up on the big screen was the shift schedule for the groom's relatives.

Uncle on liquor duty.

Aunt handing out favors.

My cousin carrying dishes and clearing tables.

Thirty-eight relatives, every one of them with a post.

"And where do they sit?"

Brad flipped a page.

"Staff don't take reception seats."

"After the guests finish eating, they get the staff meal in the back kitchen."

I opened the wedding contract.

The service crew had been booked and paid for already.

Sixty-eight thousand in staffing fees, settled last month.

Brad was already pressing my father again.

"Number 01, get to the parking lot."

I unclipped that badge.

"He's not Number 01."

"He's my father."

...

Tamara looked at the badge in my hand.

"Nat Stanley, don't come at this hot right off the bat."

"The pros couldn't make it last minute. The wedding's about to start. Someone has to cover."

I handed her the contract.

"Sixty-eight thousand in staffing was already paid."

"So where are they?"

Brad snatched the contract away.

"The wedding budget's all one pool."

"You spend less over here, it goes over there."

I looked at Tamara.

"Call the crew back."

"They can't come back."

"Then hire someone else."

Her face darkened.

"We're getting married today. This isn't a business meeting."

"You've got thirty-eight relatives standing around doing nothing. A little work won't kill anybody."

Then Mrs. Abbott came over too.

"When a man's family takes a bride, they're supposed to put in more people and more effort. That's how it works."

"My daughter's treating them to a reception this nice, and I'm supposed to pay somebody to wait on them on top of it?"

"Since when does that make sense?"

My father grabbed my arm fast.

"Don't argue."

"Directing cars in the lot, that's not heavy work."

He took the badge back out of my hand and pinned it on again.

"Your dad's in good shape. A few hours on my feet won't hurt."

My mother tied on her apron too.

"I know my way around washing dishes."

"It's a family occasion. No sorting out who's guest and who's host."

She said it lightly.

But her fingers kept pinching the hem of the apron.

That was the dress she'd bought new for the wedding.

Before we left this morning, she'd changed three times.

Afraid the color was too loud and would upstage the bride.

Afraid something older would make the bride's family look down on her.

Now the new dress had a grease-stained apron thrown over it.

Her corsage was tossed on the table.

Brad picked up the walkie-talkie.

"Where's Number 03?"

My uncle came over.

"That's me."

"Go unload the liquor."

"The truck's here. Don't keep the driver waiting."

My uncle shot me a look.

"It's just a few cases of liquor."

"You mind your own."

My aunt got the favor-table badge.

My cousin and a few of the younger ones were led off to change into service uniforms.

My grandmother sat in a corner, a few hundred empty candy boxes in front of her.

Brad tossed her a bag of wedding favor candy.

"Four pieces a box."

"Don't overfill them."

My grandmother nodded.

She couldn't make out the small print, so she had to hold each one up to her eyes to count.

The bride's relatives drifted past.

Not one of them got a badge.

Some drank tea, some took photos, and one of them was telling my mother to bring slippers.

I stopped him.

"She's not a server."

The man glanced at my mother's apron.

"If she's not a server, why's she dressed like that?"

"You people handed out the badges yourselves. Now we can't even call on her?"

Tamara pulled me off to the side.

"It's our wedding today."

"Can you not go around making enemies over every little thing?"

"They insulted my mother. That's a little thing?"

"Who insulted anyone?"

"They just didn't recognize her."

I pointed at those thirty-eight badges.

"Collect every one of them back."

She shook my hand off.

"The shifts are already set."

"You pull them out now, then who does parking, liquor, favors?"

"And where's the service crew we paid for?"

She said nothing.

Brad stepped in to explain for her.

"The original team wanted more money."

"I wasn't going to indulge that. I cut them loose."

"The groom's got plenty of relatives anyway. Perfect fit."

"Where's the refunded money?"

"Went into the wedding."

"Into what?"

He was losing patience.

"Flowers, lighting, the stage. What part of that's free?"

"It's your wedding day, man."

"Don't sit there tallying up a few thousand like you're auditing the books."

The emcee started pushing the schedule along.

Tamara smoothed down her gown.

"We'll talk after the wedding."

"For now, let everyone get to their spots."

My father was already heading for the parking lot with the walkie-talkie.

I went after him.

He pushed me back.

"What kind of groom runs around all over the place?"

"You go be with Tamara."

"Your dad won't embarrass you."

He finished and hurried down the stairs.

The shift schedule on the big screen started turning green.

*Parking Attendant No. 01: On Post*

*Kitchen Cleanup No. 02: On Post*

*Liquor Handler No. 03: On Post*

One name after another flipped to "On Post."

I opened the reception seating chart.

The names of all thirty-eight of the groom's relatives had been deleted.

The head-table seats where my parents were supposed to sit now had two other names.

Brad.

And the investor from his wedding studio.