You May Now Kill the Bride by R.L. Stine

Author:R.L. Stine
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2018-05-06T16:00:00+00:00

Twenty-Four

The irresistible smell of bacon led me to the breakfast room. The room was enormous, like a summer camp mess hall with rows of wooden picnic tables and benches, and a long buffet serving table at the back.

I was still half awake, yawning and rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I saw the line of guests moving slowly along the buffet table, piling scrambled eggs, breakfast potatoes, bacon and sausage onto their plates.

The clinks of plates and glasses and coffee cups and the ringing blare of voices helped to wake me up. I focused my eyes and, stepping into the room, searched for Aiden.

No sign of him.

Uncle Kenny waved to me from a table at the near end of a row. Max was perched on his knees on the picnic bench across from Kenny. He had a big stack of pancakes on his plate.

Kenny must have cut the pancakes into pieces for Max. The kid was dunking the pieces into syrup, eating them with his hands. I had to laugh. His fingers were dripping with syrup, and he had somehow smeared it over one cheek.

Marissa’s friends Taylor and Dani were at the next table, bowls of yogurt and fruit in front of them. They waved to me and I waved back. I didn’t feel like eating. I just needed about a gallon of coffee.

I was desperate to tell Robby that Aiden was here. But he was against the far wall, his table crowded with guys I didn’t recognize, probably Doug’s friends.

A loud crash made me jump. Someone had dropped a plate of eggs. The plate shattered as the eggs spilled over the floor in the middle of the buffet line. Two white-uniformed attendants bent to gather it all up.

I found the coffee dispenser and filled a white mug to the brim. I love the smell of coffee. The aroma wakes me up before I even drink it.

Gripping the mug between my hands, I spotted an empty place at my parents’ table near the center of the room. I nodded good morning to them as I lowered myself onto the bench.

Mom was red-eyed and the lines beneath her eyes appeared darker than usual. She wore a blue wool cap over her hair. She had a bowl of oatmeal and strawberries in front of her, but had barely touched it.

“Did you sleep?” I asked. She’s a terrible sleeper.

“Not much. I kept thinking of all the things that could go wrong today.”

I laughed. Typical Mom. “Why didn’t you think about happy things? You know. Things that could go right?”

Her turn to laugh. “Does that sound like me?”

Mom has a good sense of humor about herself. Usually, she’s hyper-serious. She can be intense. She went to law school, even though she never practiced, and she has a lawyer’s eye for details. And she loves to argue.

I don’t think I’ve ever won an argument with her. Even if she knows she’s wrong, she will outlast you. Marissa gets along much better with Mom than I do.

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