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scupper
8:30 Fini!
    Glory had forgotten what scupper meant, but there was time to find out. “Don’t freak out when the swords come into play. The groom told me they spent months rehearsing. No one will be hurt. At the bottom of the sheet you’ll see some pirate lingo. Feel free to use it when the opportunity presents itself.”
    They looked up at her, blank-faced and worried.
    “Smile! Say ‘Arrgh!’ They’re pirates, not college professors. It’ll be fun.”
    “What about the cake?” asked Robynn.
    “Leave it in the fridge until just before we set up the buffet. Gary, can you help Robynn carry it to the serving table? It’s heavy.” He nodded, and they looked at each other shyly. When Gary had come to live with the Solomons, he was an awkward twelve-year-old, showing sheep at the county fair. Four-H had been his lifeline. Now he was twenty-one, and falling in love with a local girl. Sometimes things just fell into place.
    “I sure do miss this place,” he said.
    “You’re welcome here anytime,” Glory said, and then the doorbell rang.
    Robynn pulled aside the kitchen curtain. “Bridal party’s here.”
    Glory hurried to the door. “Welcome, Admiral Brown, Mrs. Brown.”
    “Please call me Karen,” the bride said. “This is my mother, Sheryl.”
    “Karen it is. Nice to meet you, Sheryl. Come in. I have everything ready for you.”
    She directed Karen and her mother to the den, which would serve as a dressing room. On Craigslist she’d found a secondhand couch, slipcovered it, and a shabby vanity she’d painted white. With her employee’s discount at the chain store, she’d bought a card table and baskets to hold sundries. The styrofoam cooler was filled with bottled water and ice. In the tabletop basket were two curling irons, a half dozen mending kits, pink and clear nail polish, cortisone cream (in case of hives), and packages of panty hose from petite to queen size. “I’ll bring you a cheese and fruit tray,” Glory said, and turned to go. “Let me know if there’s anything else you need.”
    “How nice!” the bride’s mother said. “But, Karen, your dad and I have waited twenty-six years to see you walk down the aisle in Aunt Louise’s dress. Are you sure you want to get married in a scarlet corset and a turquoise satin skirt slit up to your hoo-hoo?”
    The bride placed her tricorn hat on her upswept hairdo and grinned. “Mother, no matter what we wear, it’s still a wedding. You love Angus. So do I. Just for today, try to go with the flow.” Karen turned to Glory and whispered, “Do you have any Valium?”
    “Sorry.” The truth was, Glory had a half dozen Percocet left over from a molar extraction, but she’d been saving them for migraines and really bad nights. “How about a glass of wine? Will that help?”
    “Yes. Make it a big one.” The bride smiled when the flower girl and ring bearer walked into the room. “Littlest pirates!” she said, bending down to hug them. “Mother, will you look at these two? Aren’t they adorable?”
    The flower girl’s dress was ocean blue and laced up the front like Karen’s corset. The boy, dressed in sailor pants, a white shirt with billowy sleeves, and sporting a painted mustache, scowled. They both wore black pirate scarves and plastic, gold, clip-on earrings. On the pillow they’d carry were two candy rings tied with elaborate satin ribbons.
    Mother Brown looked at them and said to Karen, “When you have children, I suppose I can look forward to you naming them Hook and Tinker Bell.”
    “What a terrific idea,” the bride said.
    When Glory returned with the wine, the mother of the bride was shaking her outfit out of its plastic cover. “It’s not too late to elope to Vegas,” she said.
    Karen touched up her makeup. “You told me if I didn’t get married in a church, you wouldn’t come to the wedding.”
    “I did not.”
    “Yes, you did.”
    “A chapel isn’t a church.”
    “It’s a first cousin.”
    Glory took a