Dragged to the Wedding

“What does all of this have to do with you?” she asked snappily, turning on Daniel.

“Knock it off, Mother,” James growled. “We need to tell you and Dad what’s going to happen today as far as the officiant at your daughter’s wedding goes. Dad, can you come in here?” They may as well get this over with all at once.

The living room chair creaked, and his dad came in, sitting next to his mother, both looking concerned.

“As you know, the reverend is gone.”

His mother nodded. “My phone and the church gossip network have been buzzing about it all morning. All my friends have called to ask if the wedding is still on and what we’re going to do.” She gulped her coffee, and James narrowed his gaze, taking her cup and sniffing.

“What did you put in this?” James curled his lip.

“Whiskey. It’s medicinal. I need something to get me through this. My daughter is getting married, we have no minister, your sister blames me for problems with her dress and everything else that has gone wrong. I swear if it rains, she’ll blame me for that.” She snatched back the mug and downed what was left. James didn’t point out that some of that was indeed her fault. No point pouring gasoline on a raging fire.

“Grace, dear,” his dad tried soothing.

“Hell no. Don’t try that with me.” She got up from the table, refilled her mug, and returned, plopping the bottle onto the table. “Want some? You may as well get ready, because Holly skipped out, leaving James to hold the bag, which means we’re going to need some fortification.”

“James,” his father said plaintively.

He lifted the bottle, pouring a glug of whiskey into his father’s mug.

“You may as well.” James waited while they both took a couple of sips and then began. “This is what’s going to happen. We have an officiant and the wedding will be legal.”

“Who’s going to do the wedding?” his dad asked. “Rip the bandage off and get this over with.”

“Lala Traviata,” James answered.

His mother paused with the mug halfway to her lips. “Who?”

“I’ve performed weddings in many states, but only as my drag persona, Lala Traviata. That’s how the license will be signed and how my weddings are performed.” Daniel remained calm, while James’s insides felt like they had been thrown into a blender.

“Mom, Dad, like to or not, Holly and Howard are going to have a drag wedding. Or at least a wedding officiated by a drag queen. Daniel is available and he will perform the ceremony as Lala. It’s how he does them, and Holly and Howard have agreed.” Both his parents remained silent, each reaching for the whiskey bottle at the same time. Dad added a splash more whiskey to both mugs and set the bottle down within easy reach.

“I’d ask if you were kidding, but I can see this is serious. So I’m going to ask how this is going to work. Will you be dressed as a nun or something?”

“Dad!” James interjected.

“No,” Daniel answered calmly. “The service has already been reworked to remove the biblical readings, and they’ll be replaced with literature and poetry about the meaning of love, which is what we’re really here to celebrate. I’ve done this before, granted not in a setting like this, but we’ll make do. And your daughter and son-in-law will be married and they can go forward with their lives together.”

His mom and dad turned to each other, saying nothing. His dad was stunned. There was no denying that for a second. James waited for his mother to react. She sat back in her chair, placing her mug on the table. Finally, she pushed her chair back, stood, and slowly went over to the sink. Was there going to be an explosion, tears, maybe some of both?

“Really, I don’t know what to say at all.” She turned around. “If I’m honest, and I’ve had enough whiskey to loosen my tongue, I don’t give a fuck who wears what at this wedding.” She wove slightly as she approached Daniel. “At this point I could care less if you marry them wearing nothing but a thong, a corset, high heels, and a feather boa. Just get them married and on that damned honeymoon before I have an ulcer or drink myself into oblivion.” She snatched up her mug, drank the last of the now coffee-flavored liquor, and started for the hallway. “Come on, Phillip, we need to get dressed.”

“Okay, but am I supposed to wear a dress now?” he asked as he left the table.

“No, Dad. You wear your tux. Just leave the rest of it to us.” Good lord, James was going to need that whiskey too.



* * *



“Are you done in the bathroom?” James asked Daniel as he grabbed his things.

“Not yet.”

“Did you shower?” James watched as Daniel wandered the bedroom in a pink robe. He was just trying to figure out where they were in the dressing process.

“Yes. You go ahead and shower, then return here. There are things we need to do before dressing.” He pulled out a ton of makeup, brushes, lipsticks, laying it all out on the dresser. James didn’t ask what was going on, just grabbed his things and raced across to the bathroom. He showered quickly, returning to the bedroom, where Daniel had added creams and lotions to the myriad of product already on display. “I got this out for you. It’s a moisturizer—rub a little into the skin of your face and neck. It will soothe and moisturize, making your skin really soft.”

James went right up behind Daniel, arms sliding around his waist. “Honey, you use whatever you want on your face. I have my shaving cream and soap and water. That’s all I need, except a little cologne.” He glanced around the room. “Doesn’t Lala need to get dressed? What are you going to wear? Did you bring anything?” James didn’t remember seeing any clothes that he thought Lala would necessarily wear, especially not on the stage.

Daniel crouched down, that cute little butt waving seductively in the air. He was tempted to grab it and let nature take its course, because...damn. Daniel pulled out the biggest suitcase and set it on the bed, opening it almost reverently. “I always take a little Lala wherever I go.”

A firm knock on the door interrupted their moment. Holly barely paused before bursting into the room. “Can you help me with my makeup?” She seemed flustered and looked like hell.

“What happened?” Daniel fluttered, settling Holly in the chair.

“My hands keep shaking,” Holly explained, and Daniel quietly took over, fussing over Holly before standing back.

“There, honey. You look beautiful. Now go put on your robe and try to relax. Once I’ve got my makeup and hair on, I’ll come over and help you into your dress before I finish getting ready, okay?” Daniel seemed to take all of this in stride, and James felt completely useless. He mostly stayed out of the way, sitting on the edge of the bed, fascinated as Daniel put on the makeup that slowly transformed him into Lala.

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