The Wedding Job 

The bride’s father held Henry Goodman by the lapels of his rented tuxedo and yelled, “You better go find the groom and bring him back here or I’m going to go find him and shoot him myself!” It was a wedding full of tension, as if they were all standing on thin ice that was cracking into a thousand fractures. All of the smiling masks were removed now, so the disgusted and frustrated sentiments of the guests were finally revealed. Nobody was happy and the groom was gone. One side of the room was filled with Capulets and the other side Montagues. It was up to Hank to find the groom and save the wedding.

After resolving the matter between the Alden’s, Hank was in the living room of their apartment looking at Kim’s name illuminating from his phone. Dusty and Emma said, “Don’t answer that,” in perfect unison. 

“Oh! No, please answer it. Your life is exhilarating!” Raj said giddily.

“Hey Kim, it’s been a while.” Em and Dusty deflated like he’d stabbed a hole in them. 

“Henry, I’m happy you haven’t blocked me.”

“I wouldn’t block you.” 

“You’re such a good guy, Henry. I feel really yucky about the way things ended between us and I wanted to ask if you’d be willing to grab lunch to talk. I owe you an apology and it would just be really nice to see you again.”

“Uh,” Hank hesitated. 

“It’s okay, if you don’t ever want to see me again. I totally understand because I was a real jerk to you.”

“No, no, no, I would love to catch up with you. I’m good. It’s water under the bridge.” 

“You free on Saturday?” 

“Yep! Saturday works for me. Okay. See you then. Bye.” He threw the phone angrily against the couch. “Why am I so bloody nice!?” 

“You’re going to meet with her on Saturday? Splinter, you were supposed to come to the track meet with me on Saturday.”

“I’m sorry, Em. I panicked.”

“Um, can I get some context here? Who’s Kim?” Raj asked but nobody heard. 

“Hank, do what I do,” Dusty encouraged. “Lie and tell her you’re sick, then block her forever. Kim is a nymph from the seventh layer of hell who feeds on your soul. Besides, we’ve played more Battlefront 2 than ever since you two broke up. Who is going to cover my six?”

“I play Battlefront 2.” Raj said. “Is she hot?”

“Very,” they all responded, even Emma. 

“That makes sense. Can I see a picture?”

“Okay, here’s what I’ll do. Em, I’ll go with you to the track meet in the morning, meet her for a late lunch. Besides, it’s just lunch. It’s not like we’re getting back together.” 

“I don’t see a problem with it. It’s just lunch.” 

“Thank you, Raj.” 

…

The next morning, Hank met Leslie, his old mentor, at a small off-Broadway theater. A crew was doing construction on the set as the two of them sat in the auditorium seats and talked. Leslie always helped him untangle the jumbled mess of feelings and logic in his head. Hank knew that his friends loved him, but he also really liked Kim. She had a really bad moment when she dumped him. He felt like crap for a long time. Everyone has their bad moments though. 

“Well, it’s just lunch, isn’t it?” Leslie asked. “What are you hoping to gain by having lunch with her, for yourself?”

“To be honest. I wasn’t sure if I even wanted to have lunch with her. I just didn’t want her to feel rejected.”

“Tell me the part of you that wants to have lunch with her and the part that doesn’t. It’s okay to feel more than one way about someone. It’s not all black and white.”

“The part of me that does just misses the good times. I like her a lot, physically. She is gorgeous. I liked how she’d laugh at my jokes, but sometimes she could be really mean, patronizing, and degrading. The part of me that hated feeling like that made me hesitate.” 

“How often did she make you feel that way?”

“More than I wanted to.” 

“Hank, I’m not in the business of telling people what to do because I know you’re smart enough to make your own choices and take responsibility, but I think you got some clarity about your lunch date. Now, how is Em doing?” He asked.

“She’s doing great. I’m going with her to the track meet on Saturday. You should join us! She’d love to see you.” 

“I may just do that. She’s a sweet girl. Come by opening night for Enemy of the People and I’ll save you all some seats. Just let me know how many people are coming.” Leslie stood up and headed back to the stage as Hank’s phone started ringing. 

It was a job for Sunday at a wedding. The MC quit suddenly, and they need somebody to step in. Goodman Inc. was recommended by a good friend. These people were loaded, offering a ridiculous amount of money for a replacement MC. This was going to be easy, he thought, but he didn’t have any equipment. He thought about Dusty. 

“No way, dude. I’m not DJing for your mafia friends.”

“Come on, Dusty. I’ll split the pot with you 50/50.”

“My days as DJ Dust-the-Mic are over, but I will lend you my equipment for twenty percent.” 

“Five percent.” 

“Twenty-five percent.”

“Okay, fifteen percent.”

“Done.” 

“A wedding? Can I come?” Emma asked.

“Yes ma’am. I don’t know the first thing about being an MC, so I’ll take all the help I can get.” 

“Ten percent?” she asked playfully. 

…

On Saturday, Hank, Dusty, and Emma went to the track and field competition in the Bronx. Leslie arrived shortly after them and Emma ran to meet him like a little girl. Dusty asked if that was her father, but Hank explained who it was. “Oh, so that’s the old mentor.”  

“How have you been, kid?”

“Henry, you didn’t tell me he was coming! It’s so good to see you!”

“I’m glad. People don’t normally get that excited to see me.” 

“Oh my god. Now, I’m so nervous. I hope I don’t mess up.”

“Go, knock 'em dead. Em.”

“I told you she’d be happy,” Hank smiled at Leslie as Emma ran back with the other athletes. 

They watched as she transformed into the goddess of the hunt, racing and leaping through every obstacle with killer focus. Her face was intense, fierce, and divine. Hank has been her number one fan since she was a little girl annoyed by his incessant adulation. Now she looked for him in the crowd to see if he was there, celebrating her as he did before. He was there for the first few events, until lunchtime. Then she looked up in the stands and Leslie was there with Dusty, but no Henry. Emma smiled and waved gratuitously at them as she prepared for the next event. 

…

Hank and Kim met for lunch at a vegan restaurant built around an enormous tree trunk. The inside looked like the inside of Bilbo Baggins house in the Lord of the Rings and the waiters were all barefoot with unkempt hair. Unfortunately for Hank, he was horribly distracted by the feet, specifically their toes, so much so he was unable to eat. Kim walked in and sucked the air out of the room. Everyone stared as she covered her mouth with excitement, leaping for joy like she hadn’t seen him in years. They embraced and he even twirled her around like before because she was small enough. 

“You look so good, Henry!” Kim scanned him up and down with mouth agape. “Have you been working out?”

“I’ve been working a different job. I started a business.” 

“So, I’ve heard. Your name has been popping up everywhere around town. That’s why I couldn’t get my mind off of you.” Kim had a way of stroking his ego exactly how he liked. He felt like the king of the world. Hank was ready to buy New York and give it to her though he couldn’t afford it. “Have you thought of me?”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you.” 

“You’ve been thinking about how horrible I am?” She wore her puppy eyes. 

“No…well, a little bit.” 

“It was because of some things my auntie said at a family gathering that weekend. I was just feeling trapped, and I was on my period. I just felt like something had to change with my life. It was wrong of me to blame it all on you when I needed to work on myself. That’s why I invited you to lunch, so I can apologize and tell you it was not your fault.”

“Thank you, Kim. All is forgiven.”

“Honestly Henry, you are like the only good person in New York. I always feel so safe when I’m around you. What are we having for lunch?” They talked like old times. She laughed obnoxiously at all of his little quips the way he loved. His heart was beating with that same old excitement as before. Time was flying and he remembered the tuxedo fitting appointment.

“Oh my god, Kim. I forgot I have to get fitted for a tuxedo. I have an appointment.”

“That’s okay. We’re having such a good time, I’ll come with you.” That sounded great to him. She could give him pointers on how to style his curls and shower him with complements. They caught a cab and flirted more on the ride over. The cab driver rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the stupid smile from curling. 

“Wow, you look stunning in a tux,” she said, combing his hair with her hands. “Do you need a plus one?”

“I have one,” the words slipped out of his mouth like an unintentional spit and his face flushed with heat. 

“You do?” Her voice was indignant. “Who?” That’s the old Kim he remembers. 

“Her name is Emma. She is just a friend. We’ve been friends since we were kids.” Hank’s heart was racing, but this time with anxiety instead of butterflies.

“How come you never told me about her?”

“She started traveling after college, so I’d only see her sporadically. Now she’s back in New York.” 

“I can’t believe you have some other girl in your life, that’s super important to you,” Kim started storming to the door, but made a hard stop. She walked back to Hank and kissed him passionately in front of the tailor. It was a long kiss, so it took him a few seconds to walk away. “Call me after the wedding. I miss you,” she whispered longingly into his ears before leaving the shop. The rest of the fitting was pretty awkward between him and the tailor. 

…

Henry Goodman was dressed in his tux on the sidewalk, waiting for his plus one to come down the stairs. A car was waiting for them and the driver was looking at him impatiently. When Emma passed through the door dressed in a light blue floral dress, all the flowers in the trees bloomed and the clouds in the sky disappeared. Even the driver stood up straighter and smarter. “Well, aren’t you going to say something?” She asked. 

“I’m having trouble finding a word that doesn’t feel like an understatement for how spectacular you look,” Hank twirled her around. 

“That works. And you look very handsome, good sir.” 

“Why thank you. I’ve worn more suits in the past few months than I’ve ever worn in my life.” 

“Hopefully, there’s more to come.” 

“Don’t you both look so nice,” Dusty grunted as he struggled to carry the sound equipment through the door. “No, it’s okay. I don’t need any help.” He mumbled angrily to himself, loading the equipment into the back of the car. Pointing a finger at Hank, he said, “Don’t lose or break any of my equipment. The wireless mic sometimes goes out. Just give it a little jiggle and it should be fine.” Dusty kissed them both and went back inside.  

As nice as that moment was, the car ride was a little tense because of so many unspoken feelings swirling around a pool that now included the driver’s weird energy. Emma was quieter than usual, and she surprisingly didn’t ask how things went at lunch with Kim. It was good in a way because Hank was still processing everything that transpired. 

The wedding was in a beautiful courtyard, like a garden of Eden closed in by cobblestone walls and the concrete jungle all around them. There was white lace, white seats, white linens, and white flowers against the green shrubbery, a wood archway, and grayish-blue bridal and groom suites at opposite ends of the courtyard. As they arrive, attendants show them where to set up and help to unload all the equipment. “Where’s Duncan?” inquired a man in a velvet waistcoat and biceps bulging through his white dress shirt.

“Who’s Duncan?”  Hank asked. 

“The MC. We just spoke a few days ago and we were supposed to do this event together. I’ve been texting him today and got no response.” 

“I got hired a few days ago because he quit.” 

“Nah, that’s impossible. Something’s up, but I don’t know what yet.” 

“I’m Hank, by the way,” he offered his hand as the bartender started walking away to make a phone call. Hank tried to play it off, but Emma saw the whole thing and teased him relentlessly. It was nice to be playful again. Whatever awkwardness was between them felt like sunshine compared to the hostility between the two families. 

“That girl is barely out of high school and already getting married,” Emma said about the bride. 

“The older we get, the younger they look.” 

“Eww, don’t say that. It sounds creepy. She doesn’t look happy. This is supposed to be the most exciting day of her life.” 

“The groom doesn’t look too stoked on life either. Look at him and his posse, just scowling. The groom looks pale, and his best man is really reeling into him.” 

“Want a strawberry margarita? I’m going to chat with the bartender and see what I can find out about these people. Besides, he’s kinda cute.” He watched her talk to the smiling lump of muscles with slicked hair. There was a strange boiling welling inside of him that smelled of jealousy, possessiveness, and malice towards the bartender. Hank didn’t understand why this was happening to him because Em is just a friend. He should be happy to see her happy, but not with him. Then who can she be happy with? He thought. They were both leaning over the table and one of her heels swung up from the ground. 

As Henry stood there scowling, the flamboyant little wedding planner cleared his throat. “So, you’re the new MC?” Henry ignored him, distracted by the sight of the two talking at the bar. “Excuse me, sir. Sir! Sir!” He called progressively louder. 

“Yes, sorry! What’s up?”

“What’s up?” he repeated incredulously. “There is a wedding going on and it is my responsibility to make sure everything goes well. Do you have a copy of the itinerary?” 

“No.” 

“Didn’t you read my email? I sent a booklet of details about the wedding, schedule, music, dances, and literally everything you need to know to do your job.” 

“Sorry, no.” 

The wedding planner laughed to himself as he rubbed his eyes underneath the spectacles in frustration, “Listen, you cocky bastard, these are some really serious customers here and our asses are both on the line if we screw this up; so here!” He shoved the clipboard into Hank’s chest. “Read this and follow my directions exactly. If anything goes wrong, I’m coming for you!” Then he stormed off to the bridal suite. 

“Is everything okay?” Emma asked, handing him a drink. 

“It is now,” Hank took a swig of his drink. “Jesus, that bartender was generous with the tequila.”

“Apparently this wedding is like the Capulets and Montagues. The bride and groom are from families with a long history of hatred going back to the mob in Italy. This could be the beginning of a merger between the family business, but as you can tell, not everyone is happy about the union.” 

“I have a hunch about who might be orchestrating this whole affair,” Hank said as a black limo releases Mr. Gilbert to the courtyard. Everyone gets out of their seat and rushes over to bid him welcome, even the bride from her suite. He kisses her on both cheeks and dismisses everyone back to their seats. The groomsmen continue scowling and go back into their suite.   

Mr. Gilbert walks over to Hank wearing a big familiar smile. “You’ve been making a name for yourself around town, Mr. Goodman. When people ask me for a guy, I tell them you’re my guy.” His words sent a cold sweat down Henry’s back. Then he noticed Emma. “And who is this beautiful young lady? Wait a second, I’ve seen you before. Don’t tell me.” He snapped his fingers. “The Olympics!” 

“Guilty,” she giggled and shook his hand across the table. “Emma Daniels, pleasure.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Ms. Daniels. You didn’t tell me you were dating an Olympian.”

“Oh, we're just lifelong friends,” Henry corrected. Mr. Gilbert eyed them suspiciously and then smiled wryly before excusing himself.

“I better go find my seat, but I’ll be seeing you two again.” 

“He seems nice, but I definitely get Corleone vibes,” Emma shook her head. Hank noticed the bartender watching them intently and went inside the main house to make a phone call after Mr. Gilbert left them. 

Some time passed and Hank read through the wedding planner’s notes. Looking down at his watch, he realized they were supposed to get started 15 minutes ago. Emma was busy working the music playlist, so he went to the wedding planner, who was biting his nails under the shade of a tree. The families were fanning themselves and whispering angrily at each other about the time. “It’s about time for me to get started. Where is the groom?” Hank asked. 

The wedding planner signaled for him to be quiet and come over to him, “we can’t find the groom.” 

“What?!”

“Shhhh. My security detail is looking for him right now, but this could guarantee disaster. I’m ruined! Ruined!” he feigned a dramatic cry into his hand. The bride’s father was watching this exchange and walked up to them to get some information. 

“What the hell is going on here? We should have started fifteen minutes ago,” the father whispered angrily. 

“We can’t find the groom,” Hank said. 

“You what?!” The bride’s father held Henry Goodman by the lapels of his rented tuxedo and yelled, “You better go find the groom and bring him back here or I’m going to go find him and shoot him myself!” It was a wedding full of tension, as if they were all standing on thin ice that was cracking into a thousand fractures. All of the smiling masks were removed now, so the disgusted and frustrated sentiments of the guests were finally revealed. Nobody was happy and the groom was gone. The groomsmen rushed out of the suite and surrounded the men under the tree. “Hey, get your hands off him, old man,” threatened the best man with his stylish sunglasses and thug mentality. 

“Do you have any idea who you’re talking to?” the father stared him down.

“Gentlemen let’s not get carried away,” the wedding planner stood between them. “We still have a beautiful ceremony and reception if we can just work together to find the groom!”   

“Does anyone have any idea where he might be?” Hank asked.
“I think I know where he is,” the quiet one responded. 

“Okay, I’ll go with you,” Hank then turned his attention to the wedding planner. “Just open up the bar and let people loosen up. They are wound up pretty tight. Tell them the bride is still getting ready and we will continue in 30 minutes.” He tells Emma what’s going on and she decides to go talk to the bride while they go look for the groom. 

Emma walks up the stairs where the bride is standing in front of the mirror with her mother. “Don’t start crying now,” her mother scolded. “It’s just a wedding. Women get married all the time. You should be happy to be so lucky. It’s such a beautiful wedding and you look lovely. Now suck it in, wipe those tears, and get your head on straight. Tomorrow you will have a new family to take care of.” She collected her things. “I’m going to fix my makeup. I’ll be back in a few.” Then the mother left the room, and the bride burst into tears. 

Apprehensively, Emma knelt beside her and hugged her. The bride held her back and sobbed into her shoulder, binding tears and other liquids to Emma’s dress and hair, but that wasn’t important now. “Shhh, this is just fine. Let it all out,” she rubbed her back. 

“Who are you?” 

“I’m just a woman looking out for another woman who seems afraid. Tell me everything.” 

“I’m afraid,” the bride continued to sob. “I don’t feel ready for marriage or to be a mom. This is like the wedding I’ve always dreamed of, but It's all too soon. This is not how I imagined it would be. I mean, I love Ricky, but we are still getting to know each other. Maybe I can spend the rest of my life with him, but what if I can’t?”

“Tell me about your fairytale wedding. What did you imagine?”

“It looked a lot like this, and the dress was like this, but I am super excited. I just can’t wait to marry him because I know he feels the same way. In this fantasy, I’ll want to carry many of his babies. All I want in the world is to start my life with him. Instead, I’m dreading the moment it’s time for me to walk the aisle.”

“Can I give you some advice?”

“I’d really appreciate some advice right now. My mom’s just telling me what to do.” 

“Pursue that fantasy. Maybe it's this guy or maybe it will be someone else but wait until you feel what you described to me because that is so beautiful. Then invite me to that wedding.” They both laughed together and wiped their tears. 

“Don’t I know you from somewhere?”

…

Hank and Dennis, the quiet groomsman, pulled into a plaza with an abandoned carousel house. “Yeah, I knew he’d be here. We used to come here when we were kids and smoke dope.” He lit a cigarette and called out, “Aye Yo, Ricky! Where you at?”

“Just leave me here, Dennis.” Ricky was sitting on the floor with his back against a mechanical horse. 

“You’re about to start a freakin’ war, Ricky. Get in the car.” 

“What is this the Middle Ages?” Hank interjected. “Give me a minute to talk to him, will you?” Dennis threw his hands in the air and went outside to smoke another cigarette. “Hey, I’m Henry Goodman, your wedding MC.” 

“Hey, how’s it going?” Ricky greeted absently. 

“So, tell me why you ran away from your wedding.” 

“My whole life is about to change, man. We just started dating a few months ago and I’m supposed to be responsible for her, have kids, be a father, get in the family business, and bridge the gap between families. It’s just too much too soon. I miss the days when we were just kids foolin’ around, chasing girls, and getting into trouble. But it was little trouble you know. When I get married, I’m going to be in the serious trouble that’s got real consequences. I’m going to get all mixed up in the adult crap that’s always been shady to me. I don’t want to bring her into all that. Before this wedding crap, nobody gave a damn about what I was up to. Since I met her, they’ve been calculating every step for me and planning my future. I don’t even know if I want to get involved in the family business.”

“Look, Ricky, I’m not going to tell you what to do. It sounds to me like you aren’t sure what you want, but you definitely know what you don’t and that’s marriage. Does that sound right?”

“Yeah. It’s not like I don’t want to marry Gigi ever. I don’t even want to break up with her. I just don’t want to get married yet. I want to get to know her better first and see how crazy she might get,” he joked. 

“Marriage is something you should be certain about because that certainty will hold you together when the storms of childbearing, career, and finances crash against you. It’s not something you want to gamble on.” 

“But I don’t know. I’m worried our families will go after each other if I don’t go through with it.” 

“You guys talk about your families like they are the Tudors. It’s the twenty-first century. No one goes to war over weddings anymore. Let’s go tell everyone the wedding is off.”

“What?!” Dennis was in disbelief. “This wedding is about to pop off.” 

They drove back to the courtyard, and both sides of the aisle were arguing and yelling obscenities at one another. “Oh! Thank God, you found him!” The wedding planner grabbed the groom and walked him over to the archway. “THE WEDDING IS ON, EVERYONE! BACK IN YOUR SEATS!” he yelled but no one could hear. Hank walked over to DJ booth and jiggled the mic before testing it. 

“Hello! Testing 1, 2.” The feedback from the microphone got everyone’s attention. “The groom has something he’d like to say.” As the groom walked over to the microphone, Mr. Gilbert put on his hat and left with a look of disappointment, as if he knew what was going to happen next. 

“Umm,” Ricky’s voice was shaky. “I want to thank you all for coming to my wedding. I wanted to say a few words about Gigi. You are beautiful and sweet, and I’ve been really excited getting to know you better. I hope you will forgive me, but I’ve decided not to go through with the wedding. I hope this doesn’t mean it’s over between us. I’m sorry to everyone for making you come out here.” 

“RICKY!” Gigi cried out to him from the bridal suite in her street clothes and ran into his arms. “Let’s get out of here.” Ricky handed Hank the microphone and carried her out of the courtyard. Everyone was frozen in silence as they left. 

Then the best man pulled out a gun at the father of the bride, who had pulled a gun on the father of the groom. All the guns started slipping out of the attendee’s jackets. The wedding planner squealed before hiding in the suite and the bartender, who was undercover, called for backup. Immediately, squad cars showed up and police swarmed in with guns out. Emma grabbed Hank by the hand, and ran him barefoot out of the courtyard, through the bridal suite with her heels in her other hand. The bartender followed them crying, “freeze!”  They made it around the corner of the alleyway before Emma jumped on Hank for leverage and heeled the bartender-cop in the jaw with a swinging gymnast move. He dropped to the ground like a ragdoll. 

…

As they walked back home, Hank noticed Emma was silently releasing tears when she sniffled. “Hey, what’s going on?”

“I was five when my parents got married, you were there.” 

“I vaguely remember.” 

“Well, I’ve been dreaming of my wedding ever since. The way my mom looked so beautiful in her wedding dress and my dad was so happy. I was the flower girl, and it was just so special, you know. I wanted a wedding like that with a good guy, just like my dad, but happy endings are just not real in life. My parents divorced two years ago. If it can happen to them, who says it won’t happen to me.” 

Hank holds her in a tight embrace and tells her, “Their story isn’t over yet. It’s still being written, and anything could happen. Their story is their story not yours. Who says our lives are repeats of our parents? Look at you, an Olympian. Your father is an architect, and your mom is a dentist. If you want to get married then get married to someone who wants to be married that badly too, but only to you. Marry someone you couldn’t live without and they you.”

Emma gazed at him with a sparkle in her eye and she saw him as a man. He wasn’t the little boy who bandaged her finger and healed her ouchy. Hank was a man who made her life better whenever he was around. She felt grounded and the best version of herself. He stood there admiring her beauty as she thought all those things. No one spoke a word until someone said, “excuse me, can I get through?” a lady who lived in their building was carrying groceries and needed to get through them to get up the stairs. They let go of one another and the spell was broken. 

“Well, we’d better go up,” Hank held the door and motioned her inside. 

“Oh shoot! Dusty’s equipment!” Emma held her hands to her mouth. 

“I’ll buy him a new one.” 

“Henry Goodman!” A gentleman outside called to him. 

“You go up. I’ll be right there,” Henry told her and went back outside. 

A middle-aged black man in a trench coat was waiting for him outside. He flashed a badge and said, “I’m going to need you to come with me.” 

   Read the previous chapters by clicking this link: Henry Goodman Inc. (jamessaintsimon.blogspot.com)