I got the call tonight from Tim. He called twice just to talk to me. He could have left a message in the call he made earlier in the evening. But he was more concerned that I should hear it first. I appreciated it very much that he wanted to talk to me knowing our last encounter. He knew I was so worried. He wanted to tell me the good news.

Everybody was packing up that night to leave the place pristinely clean before the designated hour. After Sarah, the maid of honor, nursed my bleeding finger from Sudoki’s steak knife, I went to the lavatory to wash my blood tainted hands. The room was clandestinely located in a narrow hallway across the main kitchen. I can hear the faint alternative rock music as they were in the middle of the hype in the dance floor. On the way back, I was able to meet Tim on the hallway. He was polite despite the trouble I caused him and the building. He checked if my finger was okay. I said, “I was more worried about the sink than my finger”. I tried to explain desperately that I wanted to help yet I still get into mishaps. I said that I was so careful but the busted sink could be because of the food accumulated in the pipes. I have been washing the dishes since late this morning while Carol and her friends were preparing for the wedding. It could be the shrimp that slipped my hands that got into the drain which was not supposed to.

Informing the bride’s mother that the sink was busted in the middle of the wedding reception was horrifying. Carol had to tell her or I will faint if I will say so myself. Even though I was comfortably secured from shame by the kitchen walls, the echo of Carol’s voice in the hall almost made me collapse. Crashing into a wedding with nobody I knew, tagging along as a kitchen help for someone not “technically” invited to the occasion, and bringing down the half-a-century old sink of a hundred year old Victorian Mansion in the middle of a wedding reception, these were the least things an Asian woman in the middle of a Goth-inspired Western wedding would want to happen.

In my limited knowledge of the people at the reception, there were only two Asians and both of them were working in the kitchen. I am of the inferior class since Sudoki was a chef working on his grill outside the building and, at the same time, a guest of the bride.

When Tim had decided that the sink was not workable on the second attempt of rescuing me from the ordeal, I was forlorn. I wanted to vanish from existence. I knew this could entail additional charges to Gayle, the bride’s mother, and could somehow jeopardize Carol’s friendship with her. In my intention to help without asking for anything in return I made a terrible ending to Shelby’s memorable night.

Even though Carol had to call me that morning to make sure I was awake, I was already on my way out to have my breakfast. I still had time before her arrival to pick me up. When she confirmed that she was already in the parking lot, I summoned her to grab something for the road from the buffet. She had her tea, I had my coffee and muffins and then we headed off to Gayle’s house at ten minutes to nine.

My assistance to the kitchen crew started when I was assigned to transfer the lukewarm tea from the bowls to the gallon. We needed to make sure there will be no spillovers in the van while on the road to Pasadena. It takes one hour to get there from Ventura.

While I was in the kitchen, it was then I was introduced to the family dog who was a brain tumor survivor. The small white streaks sparingly scattered on the right portion of his face against an all black hair were the evidence of the radiation therapy. But his mental ability was not affected by this condition at all. When Carol found out that the main door was open, there was a slight concern. I left the door open while we were putting Gayle’s stuff inside the house into the van. I didn’t know it would be a problem until the dog was nowhere in sight. The dog could be lost in the neighborhood that had almost identical houses and no fences. It could have gone a couple of houses away while enjoying his momentary freedom when it heard it’s name and turned back. When I saw it running playfully towards Carol, it had a look on it’s face that says, “Gotcha! I scared you, huh!”

On the way to Pasadena, I had to be Carol’s navigator aside from the GPS she always uses for trips like this. It was her way of validating the information whichever it came from, a trait I have wanted to acquire. She does not usually settle for one information unless it withstood the challenge of another. I would find her going around the building or linger on phone calls to talk to people who would confirm her data. This makes her one good natured lady who can make decisions not only on things that matter at work but even to my pathetic meanderings.

That’s what Becky also observed about Carol. She was happy that while we needed to figure out which things go and what works while packing up to leave Gayle’s house, it was Carol who has the final word.

“So what are you?” a middle-aged man asked me while he lifted the other side of the cooler towards the kitchen.

“I am with Carol. I came here to help.” was what I said. I had to mention Carol’s name to remove any doubt they have that I am an intruder. By my looks alone made me an outsider to this event. Anytime they could escort me out of the premises.

Carol was out looking for Jackie to convene on the plan while I occasionally enjoyed the façade of the hundred year old Victorian Mansion as I made my trip from the van to the kitchen. I learned later that afternoon when Carol and I was able to walked down the neighborhood that the place was built in 1908 by some rich landlord who came from northeast. It was situated in the neighborhood who had adapted the Victorian influence to the California climate. It was donated to the Red Cross a couple of years back. Red Cross, being a non-profit organization, whose operation is supported by donations, had to make income by renting the venue to certain occasions. A perfect venue for Shelby’s Goth-inspired wedding.

All the stuff that we brought from Gayle’s house was finally settled in the main kitchen. On the far end adjacent to the main hall, I can hear Carol talk to Becky about the occasional eardrum-popping volume she accorded to the songs of the seventies while we were on the road. “Some songs were just meant to be played loud” she said. I totally agree because when the next track from a different genre played, it never had the same effect. I had to shift down the volume immediately to the comfort of our ears.

Jackie was able to get everyone together in the kitchen for the strategy meeting. She was Gayle’s long time friend from Portland who was in charge mainly of the order of the food for the ceremony. She had prepared entries for the hors d’oeuvres and salads while Sudoki, a Japanese chef, was in-charge of the main course.

Becky, also one of Gayle’s long time friends, was handy in bringing some of the stuff needed for the preparation of the food like big platters, trays, mixing bowls, ladles and knives. Even if the whole mansion including the terrace and the manicured garden was rented, we were not allowed to use anything from the kitchen.

In that gathering, I learned that the man who asked that morning of what my role would be was Gayle’s brother. No wonder how he made everyone feel so comfortable and at ease while the chaos was starting to happen in the background. Then I was finally able to meet Gayle in person. Gayle introduced Tim; he was the doorman of the mansion. Tim was there to make sure that the venue was ready for the occasion.

I never thought I would be in contact with Tim while the event unfolds. I was more concerned of people being oblivious to my presence while making sure that I do not get in trouble. I had to ask Jackie, Becky or Carol for anything I was in doubt before making my move or I would not forgive myself for anything it would cause.

Before we caved in to our chores, Gayle gave us a quick tour of the mansion where the ceremony and the reception will take place. The main hall, which could have been the former family’s grand dining room, had nothing in it except one long table draped to the floor in black linen. The table was perfectly situated parallel to the wall with mirrors from the waist up to the room’s height. Opposite it was a mural, dating back to the construction of the building, that extends to the entire length of the room.

Exiting the main hall led us to the receiving area, this was also the first room you get into when you get through the main entrance. Jackie said, that hors d’oeuvre will be served in this area. Carol also made a note of where the coffee stand was when I will be arranging them before the slicing of the couple’s cake.

Gayle and Jackie went ahead to the family’s den where it was already flanked with chairs for the ceremony. As we were tailing on them to cross the aisle, Gayle’s brother warned us not to step on the runner. Even if he didn’t say it, I would have crossed over it as I saw him do it too. I turned my head back making sure that there were no shoe prints. Then I caught the glimpse of the arch where we entered and the massive wall presented itself in front of us, all clad in ornate wood panels from floor to ceiling. But the most breathtaking view was the terrace overlooking the manicured garden which can be seen from the glass doors encompassing the entire length of the room.

I knew that the tour was over because Carol was already asking about the food. In that hint, I already made my way back to the kitchen for my part.