Free The Less Than Perfect Wedding by Sam Westland

made their way out of the church.
    At the altar, Father Hemsley was sorting through his notes from his sermon, a pair of half-moon spectacles riding low on his nose. I hadn't seen him in a few years, and I couldn't believe how familiar he looked; he had gained a few more wrinkles, but he still had his straight white hair flowing back over his head, the slightly crooked nose, and the kind eyes, all framed in wrinkles, crow's feet, and laugh lines. He wore his vestments like a second skin, the collar perfectly starched. He glanced up as we made our way up the two shallow steps to the raised altar.
    "Ah, Danielle!" he greeted us as we approached. "So good to see you again - you look just like how I remember, from when you were younger! It's been a while since you've last warmed our pews, hasn't it?"
    And there was that little needle of guilt, just enough to make the inner Catholic inside me cringe. "Yes, well, the last couple years have been busy," I said, trying to shrug off the little voice that was telling me to apologize to Father Hemsley. "In fact, that's one of the reasons that I'm standing here, now. Father, I'd like you to meet Alex, my fiance."
    My husband-to-be stepped forward, obediently offering his hand, and Father Hemsley took it in a firm, hearty handshake. "So good to meet you, my son!" he said. "And I must congratulate you on returning to the path of righteousness, after the trying times that you've been through!"
    The brows of Alex and I both furrowed in astonishment. "What?" we both said together.
    Father Hemsley cocked his head slightly at us. "Yes, just as you've told me previously," he said. "Alex, you were a serial cheater and philanderer before you found Danielle, and rejoined the path of righteousness. That's why you wanted me to give a speech focusing on the power of commitment, and why marriage is a sacred bond that should never be broken."
    Alex and I exchanged a look of confusion. I made a little squeaking noise, but I couldn't quite muster up the ability to form coherent words and sentences. Fortunately, my fiance was a little quicker on the uptake than me.
    "Father, um, you may have received the wrong signal, here," he stammered out quickly. "I don't know when you got these requests, but we've changed our minds on what we would like you to talk about."
    "Are you sure?" Father Hemsley inquired. "Your requests seemed quite specific." He rustled through the stack of papers sitting on top of the pulpit. "I'm sure I have them here somewhere. They came in an email, I remember, but I can never quite keep track of all of those, so I print them all out." As he tried to lift up the untidy stack to look at the papers towards the bottom, a handful of sheets came cascading down over the side of the pulpit, scattering across the raised plinth.
    "It's okay, you don't need to find the sheet," I tried to interject, as Alex dipped down to scoop up the fallen papers. "Father, really, I didn't send those requests!"
    I don't know if the elderly priest didn't hear me, or if he was simply choosing to ignore me and focus on his search, but he suddenly held up a sheet of paper triumphantly. "Ah, here it is!" He squinted down at it, pushing his spectacles up on his nose and holding the paper a few inches away from his face. "Yes, it's just as I remembered. 'Fire and brimstone,' it says right here."
    Carefully, slowly reaching out, I eased the paper out of Father Hemsley's hands. "Father, do you think that we could speak somewhere a little more private?" I asked, folding the printed email in half and tucking it away in my purse to read later.
    Father Hemley blinked at me a couple of times. "Of course, of course," he said. "My office is right this way." He tottered off to the side, and we followed him into a small office off to one side, in which a rickety wooden desk and chair were nearly buried beneath more papers and books. Somehow, Father Hemley managed to wedge himself back behind the desk, while Alex and I stood