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“I’m the lucky one,” Ari said. “Thank you for always believing in me.”
“Oh, honey, you are exactly the woman I wished for Matt. You are so good for them. You’re so good for all of us.” Then Susan turned to Chi and Rosie. “And you brought us beautiful Chi and Rosie and Jorge too.”
Rosie felt the prickle of tears at the way Susan always included her and her son.
“Ari, I’m not done with your hair,” called the hairdresser, waving her magic curling wand. “We have to put on your wreath and veil. And it looks like some of your curls are about to droop. We absolutely cannot send you out with droopy curls.”
Susan ran her fingers lightly over Ari’s hair. “Everything about you is perfect just the way it is, honey.” She smiled. “But go on, let your stylist do her thing.”
While Ari had her hair recurled, Susan touched Rosie’s arm. “I’m so pleased that I get to take care of Jorge while you’re busy with the ceremony. Thank you for that.” Then, with a kiss to Rosie’s cheek, Susan slipped away, her subtle perfume lingering in the air.
“This setup is fantastic,” Chi said
as they once again peeked through the tent flaps. A red carpet had been rolled out for Ari to make her trip down the aisle, and the usual wooden benches had been replaced by chairs draped in white cloth. A grand piano stood at the edge of the stage, the tuxedoed pianist playing instrumental versions of Ari’s favorite music, from Somewhere Over the Rainbow to Evermore to songs she’d loved as a teenager. “I can’t wait for the robots to come to life.”
Since this was a puppet theater, Ari and Matt had decided to put on a puppet show while everyone took their seats. Because Matt had conquered the world of robotics, the stage had been transformed into a factory with robots moving product along an assembly line. It was amazing with all the moving parts—levers and gears and robot arms and robot hands.
As the guests filed in to find their places, two puppet robots appeared onstage to take their spots along the assembly line as if they were starting work for the day. The puppets had been inspired by five classic film robots—R2-D2 and C-3PO from Star Wars, Wall-E and Eve from Wall-E, one of Jorge’s favorite movies, and a dash of Lisa from Weird Science. Somehow, the mash-up worked, and it was impossible not to smile at the scene.
“Hello, Number Ten,” came the deep male robot’s voice, a number fifteen stenciled on his vest.
The robot with a ten on her vest said, “Hello, Number Fifteen,” as she passed him, her long eyelashes fluttering and a smile on her rosebud-red mouth.
Pink and red hearts fell out of the ceiling to hover over the male robot as he stared longingly after the lady.
Everyone laughed at the loud sound of his wildly beating heart.
Then levers and gears clicked and clacked and the assembly line rolled. The robots patted pieces and parts on the conveyor as if they were manufacturing toys or trucks or toasters.
Rosie glanced at the groom’s tent on the other side of the theater, where the boys, already decked out in their mini tuxedoes, were staring at the stage with rapt attention. A man’s big hand held the flap aside. Of course, it had to be Gideon. He would make sure they didn’t miss a thing.
She would have loved a glimpse of him in his tux, but no such luck.
Onstage, the robots whistled as they worked, like the seven dwarves in Snow White. And Fifteen kept shooting hearts at Ten that she failed to notice.
Then a horn blew, announcing it was lunchtime. Ten’s hands flew to her cheeks. “Oh no, I’ve forgotten my lunch box.”
With hearts still waving madly over his head, Fifteen held up his lunch box and was clearly about to offer it to her, when a little boy robot with a number one emblazoned on his vest danced onto the stage.
“Mommy, you forgot your lunch.” He waved the box in the air.
Ten wrapped him in her arms. “Oh, Little One, you are such a good boy.”
Poor Fifteen, stoop-shouldered, picked up his lunch box and began lumbering away.
Little One called, “Number Fifteen, will you come eat with us?”
Looking both surprised and pleased, Fifteen nodded, then hurried back over.
A big yellow sun dropped down over the left side of the stage, and a picnic bench rolled out. All three robots sat down, the sun now dancing over their heads along with the hearts.
With no preamble, Number One turned to Fifteen and asked, “How do new robots get made?”
Everyone in the audience laughed as Fifteen’s eyes went wide in horror. “Well, oh, uh,” he spluttered.
The guests were still chuckling as Number Ten smiled and patted her son’s hand. “Nice try.” She leaned toward Fifteen and said, “I’ve already told him I’ll answer that when he’s older.”
“Okay, then why do flowers bloom in the spring?” the little robot asked.
