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.

I took the seating chart and went to find Tamara.

She was up on the main stage, having her photos taken.

"Put my parents' seats back."

She barely glanced at me.

"Brad says the head table has limited space."

"He's my brother, and he's running the wedding. It's easier for him to handle things from the head table."

"And my parents?"

"They've got work to do. They can't just sit around."

I kept the anger down.

"Once the ceremony starts, you're going to have them working too?"

"They can rest when they're done."

"And when will they be done?"

She didn't answer.

Brad came over with a walkie-talkie in his hand.

"Sis, don't argue with him."

"Staff rotate through the staff meal at three."

I looked at him.

"My parents are eating the staff meal?"

"Everybody's the same."

"Whatever the hotel staff eats, they eat."

I turned and went to the back kitchen.

My mother was standing at the sink, washing glasses.

Steam rose off the hot water, and her sleeves were already soaked through.

One of the bride's relatives dumped half a glass of red wine into the sink.

"Wash this one too."

My mother took the glass.

"Sure."

I pulled the rag out of her hand.

"Stop washing."

She snatched it right back.

"How can I walk off in the middle of this?"

"You go be with Tamara."

"Don't let them think our family won't pull its weight."

The hotel server beside her said quietly,

"Ma'am, this is supposed to be our job."

"Mr. Fleming told us to go serve the bride's lounge. He said someone was covering things here."

I asked,

"How many people did your hotel actually staff for this?"

The server didn't dare answer.

The floor manager came over.

"Sir, if there's a problem, take it up with the wedding coordinator."

"We're just doing what Mr. Fleming arranged."

My mother pushed me toward the door.

"Go, hurry."

"The tea ceremony's coming up soon."

"If you and Dad aren't up on the stage, how do we do the tea ceremony?"

She froze for a second.

"Brad said the tea ceremony gets pushed back."

"Whenever there's time, that's when we do it."

I walked out of the back kitchen.

The parking lot was blinding under the sun.

My father was in a reflective vest at the entrance, waving cars in without a break.

One of the bride's guests parked crooked, got out, and tossed him the keys.

"Park it for me."

My father caught them.

"I don't know how to drive a car this expensive."

The man swore at him.

"If you can't drive, what are you standing here for?"

"Go find someone who can!"

I walked over and handed the keys back to him.

"Park it yourself."

The man recognized me.

"The groom?"

He looked me up and down.

"What kind of people is the groom's side putting out here?"

"Can't even park a car. Who throws a wedding like this?"

My father grabbed my arm.

"Let it go."

"They came for the wedding. Don't offend the guests."

"You're a guest too."

He looked down at the staff badge.

"Dad's family. One of us."

"Family should do a little extra. That's how it should be."

Brad's voice came through the walkie-talkie.

"Number 01, the east gate's blocked!"

"You copy?"

I took the walkie-talkie.

"Come down and handle it yourself."

Brad cursed at once.

"Nat, are you sick in the head?"

"You've thrown the whole wedding schedule into chaos!"

I switched the walkie-talkie off and took my father upstairs.

The moment we stepped inside, Deborah blocked our way.

"Who told him to leave his post?"

"The parking lot's a mess, the bride's relatives are all complaining!"

"My father isn't a worker you hired."

She gave a cold laugh.

"Puts on a reflective vest and suddenly he's too precious for it?"

"Like he's never done a day's work in his life?"

"He just sees how nice my guests' cars are and he's scared he can't pay for it if he scratches one, isn't he?"

My father's face changed.

"Mrs. Abbott, that's not what I meant."

"If that's not what you meant, then get back to work!"

Deborah reached out and shoved him.

"Stop clogging up the doorway playing the victim!"

I stepped in front of him.

Tamara came down off the stage.

She didn't ask what had happened to my father. She just looked at the reflective vest he was wearing.

"Dad, stay away from the photo area."

"That color's too bright. It'll look bad in the pictures."

My father glanced down at himself.

"Then I'll stand further off."

He started back toward the parking lot.

I caught his hand.

"You're not going."

The big screen suddenly switched the program.

【10:40 — Couple's Tea Ceremony】

【Groom's Parents: Remain on Duty】

【Tea Served To: Bride's Parents】

I looked over at Tamara.

She had already taken her place beside the seat of honor for the tea ceremony and was smoothing out her skirt.

The two chairs that had belonged to my parents were being carried away by the staff.

"Put the chairs back."

The staff member stopped.

Brad said,

"Leave them."

"The groom's parents don't have time for the tea ceremony."

I walked up to the front of the stage.

"Whose wedding is this?"

"I'm marrying your sister, and my parents don't have time?"

Tamara stood there holding the teacup.

"We're already half an hour behind schedule."

"Do my parents first. When your uncle and aunt are done working, we'll fit theirs in after."

"And when exactly are they going to be done working?"

"Nat, stop asking me the same thing over and over!"

"There are this many people here today, and you have to embarrass me in front of all of them?"

I set the teacup back on the tray.

"Until my parents are here, nobody gets tea."

Deborah rose to her feet.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"My daughter marries you, and she can't even get a cup of tea?"

"Who do your parents think they are, that we should sit here waiting on them?"

Down below, someone joined in.

"You can't miss the auspicious hour!"

"If the groom's parents are busy, just serve the bride's side first."

"Country folk don't know how things are done, but the groom doesn't either?"

I didn't move.

The coordinator picked up the mic and tried to smooth it over.

"The two families can work out any issues later."

"For now, let's complete the tea ceremony for the bride's side—"

"No tea."

I turned and went to find my parents.

The back kitchen was already in chaos.

My cousin was sitting on the floor, her right arm scalded red.

A pot of hot soup lay overturned beside her.

Tamara's aunt was pointing at her, shouting.

"You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

"This dress cost me over a thousand dollars. How am I supposed to get grease out of it?"

My cousin was in too much pain to speak.

My mother was running cold water over her arm.

"We have to get you to a hospital, now."

Brad blocked the doorway.

"She can't leave right now."

"We're already short on servers. She walks out, who's going to cover?"

I shoved him aside.

"Move."

Tamara's aunt lunged forward and slapped my cousin across the face.

"You pay for my dress before you go anywhere!"

My cousin cupped her cheek.

My mother stepped in front of her.

"The girl's already been burned."

"Your own kid came running out of nowhere. That's why she fell."

The aunt raised her hand again.

"You've got the nerve to talk back?"

I caught her by the wrist.

"Try it. One more time."

She started screaming at once.

"The groom's family is hitting people!"

"The waitress is hitting a guest!"

Tamara hurried over.

She looked at my cousin's arm and only frowned.

"Go to the break room and put some ointment on it."

"After this round of dishes is out, you can go to the hospital."

I stared at her.

"She's not a waitress. She's my cousin."

"But we're short-handed right now."

"Then have your brother carry the trays."

Brad panicked.

"I'm running the whole program. How am I supposed to carry dishes?"

"My father's supposed to go park cars?"

"My mother's supposed to wash dishes?"

"She's supposed to serve food with a scalded arm?"

Tamara grabbed my arm.

"Everyone's watching."

"Don't wreck the whole wedding over one little burn."

My cousin's tears spilled over.

She pulled off her staff badge and set it on the floor.

"Nat, I'm done."

Brad immediately raised his phone and started filming.

"Get it clearly on camera."

"She's leaving her post without notice. Don't try to deny the losses later."

I told Christian Whitney, my best man, to take my cousin to the hospital.

The groom's relatives started gathering around.

My uncle's suit was worn through where he'd been hauling liquor crates.

My aunt's heel had snapped off.

My grandmother was still filling boxes of wedding favor candy.

She'd been at it since morning, and hadn't had a single sip of water.

My father came back last.

His face was sun-bleached pale, and his steps had started to wobble.

I caught hold of him.

"Are you feeling all right?"

"I'm fine."

He took out his heart pills and slipped one under his tongue.

"There are still a few cars in the lot."

"Let me rest a couple of minutes, then I'll go back down."

Brad's voice pushed through the walkie-talkie.

"Number 01, do you copy?"

"No slacking off!"

My father picked up the walkie-talkie.

"On my way."

I threw it to the floor.

"No one's going anywhere."

Tamara's face went hard.

"Nat, we're about to exchange rings."

"Just finish the program first."

"My father isn't well."

"The hotel has a break room."

"Let him go lie down. Don't have him standing by the red carpet."

"Once the ceremony's over, we'll take him to the hospital."

She finished and signaled the coordinator to continue.

The scheduling board on the big screen refreshed again.

After my father's name, a new line of red text had appeared.

【Parking Attendant No. 01: Left Post Without Permission】

Brad walked over and tossed a reflective vest into my father's arms.

"Put it on."

"Two more hours to go."