“Do you need help getting out Ms. Singletary?” She looked up into a pair of gentle eyes. They were deep and welcoming. She loosed the pressure of her hand on her thighs and allowed the chilled air to float up her dress; tiny goose bumps jumped up on her skin. “Ms. Singletary?” She shifted her eyes onto his hand, extended out, palm up, in front of her face. She took his hand and rose up from the seat, it squeaked as her weight was released.

“Thank you,” she replied, pushing the bottom of her dress back down over her legs; the goose bumps tickled as her dress slid over them.

“You’re welcome Ms. Singletary,” the driver replied with a nod. Ms. Singletary looked him up and down, not sure of the ideas swarming around inside her mind.

“Call…Call me Kate….” She whispered gently back, her words floating from her mouth in a white cloud of warm air. She looked away as he smiled and nodded his head back to her request.

“Katherine…,” she hastily blurted out loudly, looking back up. “Call…Call me,” she sighed, “…Call me Katherine.” The loudness of her voice died off with her last words.

“Katherine it is,” he chuckled with a bob of the head. Katherine’s cheeks flashed a rosy red. Katherine drained the redness from her cheeks and forced back the elementary school love antics.

“Have we…met before?” She inquired, rummaging through the cabinets and folders of the mail room of her mind. All her searches came back as empty, but she never forgot a face, and his looked so familiar. He lowered his head and kicked a rock on the ground as he grinned.

“You may have seen me before,” he replied. “That guy who’s getting married in there,” he motioned his head in the direction of the church off to the left. Katherine followed his head nod with her eyes. The glossy whiteness of the church building was prominent in the black night. She returned her eyes to him. “He’s my brother.” The man laughed uncomfortably and kicked the rock again; it bounced off into the dark abyss outside of the light cast by the inside of the limousine. He watched as the rock disappeared into the night, butterflies filled his stomach as he was left with nothing to distract him from the awkward conversation. “I’m the best man.” He placed his hand on the back of his neck and rubbed it uncomfortable. “We actually met last night at the family dinner.” Katherine stared blankly back. He could tell from her eyes that she didn’t remember him. He lowered his hand. “By the food table? You asked me to pass you a sandwich and I said I could pass you a Stanwich…?” Katherine half nodded her head as her mouth opened as her brain remembered that time.

“Right…Cause your name is Stan….So it was a Stanwhich, not a sandwich.” Stan dropped his head in embarrassment.

“Yeah not my best work,” he grumbled. “That’s probably why you didn’t remember me.” He mumbled, lifting his hands into the air. Katherine took defense to not hurt his feelings.

“No, no I knew that…I knew you from somewhere.” She shook her head. “It wasn’t the joke, I promise. I thought it was…funny last night. I just had a lot on my mind with all the wedding planning and all; it was just a hectic night. I’m sorry…..Stan.” She smiled weakly back, hoping he would understand. Stan chuckled.

“Well I think I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one night.” He lowered his head and spoke up to Katherine with playful eyes. “I’ll have to just try and nail a different bridesmaid. It was too bad; you were on the top of my list of hotties.” He laughed to himself. Katherine smiled as she took in the joke.

“Oh you kept a list,” she sneered. “Good luck with that…And sorry you had to cross off number one.” She bobbled her head, proud of her comment.

“Yeah,” Stan replied with a light chuckle. “Too bad.” His hand returned to the back of his neck. “You know I was just kidding about the list, and about nailing bridesmaids. I’m not the kind of guy that goes to weddings to nail bridesmaids.” He swallowed hard. Katherine smirked.

“Sure you aren’t Stan.” Stan laughed back uncomfortably. His eyes shifted to the ground. “Stan…” He looked up. “I’m not a bridesmaid.” Stan furrowed his brow.

“You’re not related to the bride? I thought you were her sister or something.” He scratched behind his ear; it didn’t itch. She shook her head.

“No Taylor, the bride’s older sister, and I have been friends since junior high, like fifth grade or something. I’m mainly here to take the photos of the wedding though. I never really got along well with Jonelle.” She smiled, “you know girl stuff.” Stan lifted his head acting like he understood. “So…You’re the best man, what are you doing driving limos?” Stan laughed as he turned around to look at the long, sleek black car. He ran his hand along its side, and closed the door behind Katherine. He dress fluttered forward as the door released a quick stream of wind. Stan watched as her perfect legs flashed in the darkness.

“I…I lost my job a few weeks back…needed some money to pay the bills. So Dean helped me out.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Thought I might as well try to make a few bucks while I’m here; try to get back on track. Maybe pay Dean back someday. Can’t hurt right?” He stared at the concrete evaluating his current situation. “You seem like you’re doing pretty well for yourself….” He looked up, “Kate.” Katherine smirked.

“You could say that. Physical therapy has its benefits.” She smirked back, copying his. Stan nodded his head and beamed. His white teeth flashed in the darkness. Katherine’s heart skipped a beat as she stared at his exuberant expression.

“My neck kinda hurts,” he snickered, bending his neck to the side. He stuck out a pouty bottom lip and flashed her sad puppy-dog eyes. “Think you can fix it?” Katherine ran her tongue along the inside of her lips. She stared fondly at Stan, unable to break away from his charming green eyes.

“Katherine hurry up and get inside, we are about to start.” A shrill woman’s voice cut through their flirty conversation. Katherine sighed and blew the stray stand of hair out of her face with a puff of air. Stan laughed at her cuteness.

“Coming Mrs. Shears.” Katherine called out, her back turned to the open church door. She turned back and smiled repentantly at Stan. Her lips mouthed Sorry.

“Oh and Stan,” Mrs. Shears called out, returning to the doorway. Stan smiled at Katherine as his turn had come.

“Yeah Ma?” His voiced echoed off the white church walls.

“Pull the car around back into the parking lot, and wait out here for a bit, your sister should be arriving shortly.” He looked at Katherine, her apologetic expression shifted over to a spiteful grin. Stan grimaced playfully as he watched her mouth form Mom? Stan smiled back.

“Yeah sure Mom, I’ll get on it. You know its kinda cold out here Ma.” He paused and waited for her reply. He could hear her laugh lightly from the doorway.

“You’ll live,” she replied shortly. “Now stop flirting with our camera woman and tell her to get her butt in here. And you don’t take too long either. We need you to know what you’re doing tomorrow; you are the best man for crying out loud.” She turned and walked into the doorway. They could still hear her as she closed the door behind her. “Don’t know why he picked you over Luke; at least he can hold a job for more than a week.” Stan returned to Katherine’s laughing.

“I’m sorry,” she said between laughs. Stan shook his head and laughed mockingly back at her.

“I’m sure you are.” He chuckled. “That’s my mother for ya, gotta love her.” Katherine placed her hand over her mouth in an attempt to stop laughing. Stan ran his tongue along the roof of his mouth. “Well I better move the car around so Gene can have somewhere to pull in. I’ll see you inside?” His eyes begged for a yes. Katherine stopped laughing and smiled juvenilely back.

“We’ll see…” Stan watched as she turned and walked up the sidewalk and into the church, closing the door behind her. He shook his head and smiled as he jumped into the driver side of the limo and turned the key. “We’ll see,” he mocked jokingly.

The inside of the church was alive with the bustle of chattering voices and shuffling feet. Stan stepped inside and slid against the back wall, concealing himself from the other guests at the rehearsal dinner. His black pants and jacket melting in with the shadows cast down on the back wall by the hanging chandeliers. He stood quietly, pressed against the wall and observed the people. It was like a perfect wedding scene from a movie, remove the swan statue made of ice. The room was bright and cheery. Flowers and white lace curtains hung from every window, and tables covered with beautiful draping tablecloths gave the room a sophisticated feel. Stan scanned his eyes across the room. He let out a deep sigh, he didn’t want to be there. Stan spotted his mother boisterously conversing with the bride-to-be’s parents across the room. He slid over behind a group of people to remain out of sight. “Why don’t you ever get married? Your brothers have wives and children and have made a name for themselves, what have you done?” He mouthed his mother’s contradictorily words spitefully to himself. Stan kept his head down toward the floor, shaking his head, mocking his mother. He ran into the back of a woman.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, are you okay?” Stan reached out and placed a gentle hand on her arm. His eyes froze on the beautiful creamy skin picturesque below a rippling black dress.

“We just keep bumping into each other don’t we?” Stan looked up into Katherine’s snickering grin. “No pun intended…” His apologetic expression melted from his face. He ran his tongue along his teeth and nodded his head, holding back a delighted smile.

“I guess its fate,” he announced confidently, looking her in the eyes.

“Can’t fight fate,” she replied. Stan took in a deep breath and veered his view off to the right, trying to figure out the right words to say. Idiotic pick-up lines and catch phrases blabbered on his mind. He couldn’t shake them away. His wondering eyes caught sight of an open table in the back corner of the room, out of eye and ear shot of the progressively less sober guests.

“Want to…take a seat?” He offered, extending a hand toward the open table in the distance. Katherine followed the path of his hand and beamed back.

“I’d love to.”

Stan pulled the chair out and offered Katherine a seat with a smile. She nodded her head appreciatively back and folded her dress underneath her, and took a seat. Stan lat out a long, nervous breath and pushed the chair in with shaking hands. Thin streaks of sweat slid along the back of the metal chair as he drew his hands back. Stan made his way around the table and took a seat across from Katherine. He folded his hands on the red tablecloth and looked her in the eyes. She turned her eyes away to break the stare; Stan smiled.

“So tell me about yourself Kate.” He drew his hands back and slipped his arms out of his coat. Katherine watched as he turned and slung it over the back of the chair.

“First off its Katherine…Like I said before.” She kept the tally in her head: Katherine two, Stan one. She placed a hand over her mouth to cover up her smile. “What would you like to know?” Stan ran his hand across the scratchy bristles of dark hair speckling his chin forming a want-to-be beard.

“Anything…Everything” His hand fell from his face as his eyes shifted back to hers. Katherine fumbled around in her chair uncomfortably trying to think of the right things to say.

“Well, I’m a physical therapist. I live in New York.” Stan watched quietly as she waved her hands through the air, trying to summon up the right descriptions of herself as to not come across as desperate…or too high class.

“No…Katherine the real you,” Katherine’s hands fell to the table cloth with a thud. Stan watched as the red cloth rippled out away from her hands.

“You want the real me?”

“Yeah are you married, past boyfriends, have you ever been in love…The real stuff, the stuff that matters.” Stan ran his fingers over his eyebrow. Katherine’s mouth went dry.

“But we just met….” Her voice trembled.

“So?” Stan’s voice now boasted confidence. He held his open palm up in her direction, motioning for her to go on.

“Well?”

Katherine sucked on her bottom lip and nodded her head. “Alright,” she slouched back in her chair. “I’ve never been married. I’ve been in love once,” she looked off to the side, disgusted, “But that didn’t work out. Nothing too juicy about ex-boyfriends, just the norm…” She glanced back up at Stan with a frown. “I guess I’m your usual always a bridesmaid never a bride type. I’ve been to thirty weddings at least…Never once found my Prince Charming. Guess a fairy tale ending just isn’t in the cards for me.” She ran her finger across her forehead and removed the stray strand of blonde hair dangling down over her face. Stan licked his lips and nodded his understanding.
“Yeah I hate these things,” he said swerving his head around to highlight the entire chapel and community of people. “Maybe a happily ever after is only destined for the lucky few.” Their table fell quiet. Stan looked up into Katherine’s sad eyes. She looked off at the ground beside the table. Stan could feel the despondency radiating off her soft, blue eyes. “Why don’t…” Katherine looked up as the words left his mouth. “Why don’t we make up our own happily ever after?” Katherine tilted her heads to the side, the corners of her lips slid up slowly.

“What do you mean?” Stan slid across the chairs at the table and stopped at the one next to Katherine’s. He caught himself staring into her eyes and dropped them to the red table cloth. Katherine’s insides fluttered.

“You know…like…like we make up our own fairy tale story where we…uh…I mean they find true love.” He looked back up at her, his face a nervous shade of red. “I mean…It’s not like there’s much else to do here…” Katherine looked around her at the cast of middle-aged people sipping wine and telling old family stories.

“Good point…So how do we start?”

“Just close your eyes okay?” Stan asked.

“Okay,” Kate sealed her eyes shut, folding her hands on her lap.

Stan began, “Once upon a time in a land far far away there lived a beautiful princess. Her name was Princess Kay.” Katherine smiled at the princess’s name. “She was the most beautiful woman in all the land. But one day the king married an evil woman, and made her queen. Many years later the king died of old age and left the evil queen to rule the land. The queen was no longer the real queen without a king, and Princess Kay was the next in line to be wed as she was the most beautiful in the land. So the evil Queen made a decree that any woman prettier than she would be locked away forever…”

“This sounds like every other fairy tale…” She slipped one eye open.

“I’m not the most creative,” Stan sneered. “Now close your eyes.” Stan waited till they were closed. He cleared his throat. “Now the queen was a beautiful woman, one of the most beautiful women in all the land, but one woman was more beautiful, Princess Kay. The Queen kidnapped Princess Kay and locked her away in her castle. She told her that the only way she would be set free is if every day she kissed a frog, and if one day the frog turned out to be her true love, she would be allowed to leave...”

Katherine snickered. Stan ran his tongue over his bottom row of teeth. “Go one,” Katherine insisted.

“Maybe we should just stop…” Stan slouched back in his chair. Katherine opened her eyes and dropped her shoulders.

“No keep going, I’m sorry. I’ll take it seriously now; promise.” She closed her eyes again and slouched back in her chair. Stan looked her up and down before beginning.

“Now Princess Kay knew that if a new man was dubbed king he would marry the evil Queen and she would be trapped there forever…” Katherine slowly drifted off into the world of her imagination as the images from Stan’s words flooded her mind.

Princess Kay sat quietly at the window side, her fingers wrapped around the cold metal bars bolted to the castle windows. She let out a deep sigh as she sorrowfully looked out into the horrid marshlands encasing her castle prison. Dark trees, leaf-less, stretched over the brewing swamp, their knobby limbs like bent and contorted fingers. A dark, hazy fog blanketed the entire land, obscuring the swamp with dark, wicked shadows. The putrid water bubbled and boiled, releasing a foul stench that wafted up from the murky water and through the bars of the window into her chambers. She pulled her head back and scowled as the sullied smell reached her nostrils. Princess Kay swung her legs to the side and shifted around on the icy, stone seat beside the window. She looked at her desolate bed chambers. Her room was a small, damp stone-walled holding cell. The walls were chipped and cover with mold. The room was dark, the only light coming from between the metal bars of the lone window, facing away from the sun. The room was empty. Beside her sat an uncomfortable wooden bed that often gave her splinters. Kay ran her hand along the headboard. All it was was a plank of wood on four legs, covered with an itchy, lice-filled wool blanket. Sleeping was less than comfortable. She looked at the rest of her room. There wasn’t much else besides a three-legged wooden stool, and a tattered, old wooden dresser on the other side of the room; it was a few feet away. It had four large drawers, each without a handle, and each jammed shut by years of wear and tear. Kay’s favorite possession rested on top of the dresser. A large, round mirror, with a thin long crack running through its middle. Kay didn’t mind the crack, it was better than nothing. She rose from beside the window and took a few steps across the frosty stone floor. She stopped in front of the mirror and stared back at her reflection. She was beautiful, with flawless golden, shimmering blond hair. Her eyes were bright and full of life, and her cheeks and lips were rosy and cheerful. Her beauty was the only thing that kept her going. It was the one last thing the evil queen couldn’t take away from her.

Princess Kay hurried back to her bedside as the door creaked slowly open. “Kay, it’s time,” a foul, shrill voice announced from the opening doorway. Princess Kay scowled at the person walking in and slumped down on the bed. The evil queen walked in draped in a long, sparkling black and red dress, that drug behind her for a few feet. She had pale skin that was plastered to a thin, emancipated frame. She had curly, burnished black hair that dropped down from under a large golden crown. Her lips were coated with a dark shade of black lipstick that matched the black makeup covering her eyes.

“Get to you seat!” She snapped, pointing a long, black fingernail at Kay’s face. Princess Kay ducked her head and hustled over to the stool beside her bed. She folded her dress under her legs and sat down, straightening out her back. The queen smiled wickedly at Kay. “Bring them in,” she shouted toward the open doorway. Princess Kay swallowed hard as she watched the doorway. One by one small green frogs, about the size of Kay’s hand, hopped into the room in a perfect line. They filed in until the room was filled to capacity with slimy, green, croaking frogs. Kay looked up at the evil queen. “Well go on…” She motioned her on with her hand. Princess Kay sighed and held out her open palms. The first frog in line jumped up onto her hands and puckered his lips. Princess Kay held back her disgust and leaned in, kissing him on the lips; nothing happened. The frog frowned, disappointed, and hopped down. Her empty hands were quickly filled with the next frog in line. Princess Kay kissed every frog, one after the other, until there were none left. She wiped her mouth off on the sleeve of her dress and stuck out her tongue; the tastes of frog breathe still percolating in her mouth. “I guess not today either,” the evil Queen cackled. Kay looked up at her sadly. “It seems that you will never find your frog prince, princess….so sad,” she faked a sorrowful expression. She threw her head back and laughed as she left the room.

Princess Kay stuck out her tongue and wiped it off with the sleeve of her dress. The stale, dusty taste of her dirty dress wasn’t much better. Princess Kay pulled down the blankets of her wooden bed and slid under them. She pulled the covers up to her chest and snuggled in. She wiggled around uncomfortably as the stray stands from the blankets scratched at her arms and legs like the chicken pox. She sighed, a long deep sigh, and turned over. A burp rumbled in her stomach and came barreling out her open mouth as she sighed. The noise from her burp echoed off the stone walls and filled the small room with the stench of frog lips. Princess Kay turned over the other was and buried her nose in the blanket, “Stupid frogs,” she grumbled. She yawned, a long yawn, and stretched her arms out as she tried to forget about having to kiss the hundreds of frogs, or how she had had to do it every day for the past year. She closed her eyes and counted the frogs jumping off a lily pad in her mind; one, two, three, four, five, six….until she fell asleep.

Princess Kay awoke to the croaking and bellowing of over a hundred frogs pouncing about on her bed. She sat up and blew the stands of hair from her face. The room was green. Nothing was visible, not the walls, the floors, or the dresser with the mirror…nothing. It was like she was swimming in a sea of green waves. Kay kicked her legs off the bed, sending frogs flying in every direction. As she reached the end she was met with the sinister smile of the evil Queen. “Good morning,” she squealed, placing her head on her hands. Princess Kay jumped back at the sight of her face so close to hers.

“Good morning,” she mumbled back, fixing her wild hair. She placed her hand down on the bed and drew it back quickly as she pressed down on a frog. He croaked his disgust and hoped off. Princess Kay shook the slime off of her hand, and wiped it off on her blanket. “What are all these frogs doing in here? The sun just came up…We usually don’t do the kissing till noon.” Kay swallowed as she feared the answer. The evil Queen admired her long, sharp black fingernails.

“I thought we would get an early start today Princess…I don’t want to miss the wedding.” She smirked.

“What wedding?” Princess Kay pushed frogs aside as she sat up.

“A new king is to be crowned today, and I’m to be wed to him this afternoon, since I am the most beautiful woman in the land. Then I will become the actual queen.” Tears filled Princess Kay’s eyes.

But you’re not the most beautiful, Kay thought.

The evil Queen saw her tears and scoffed. “That is unless you find your true love and he is crowned the king…But we both know that won’t happen.” She rose from the stool beside the bed and tracked through the sea of kicking frog legs. “Now get kissing.” Princess Kay could hear her evil laugh as she left the room and walked down the hallway; the large heavy door locking behind her. She wiped her eyes off on her dress and looked up. The frogs had lined up in front of her, smiles stretching across their green lips.

“Get out of here. I’m not kissing any of you today,” Princess Kay screamed. The frogs turned away, downtrodden and hopped out the window between the metal bars, splashing into the swamp below. Kay rose from her bed and shooed the remaining frogs out from the room, pushing them towards the window. They blew her kisses as they hoped out, croaking their love for her as they plummeted down into the murky water of the swamp.

Kay flopped down on her hard bed and pulled the wool blanket up over to her nose in an attempt to mask the lingering stench of frog. She pulled the scratchy blanket up over her eyes and cried. “Why won’t one of these frogs turn into a prince already?” She sobbed. “How many of these do I have to kiss?” She pulled the blanket up over hey face as tears soaked the scratchy wool.

“Just one more,” a kind, reassuring man’s voice announced somewhere in the room. The frogs can’t talk, she thought. Kay slowly pulled the blanket down from over her eyes. In front of her stood a dreamy man dressed in a blue and gold tunic. He had fluffy brown hair and strong, bony cheeks. His eyes sparkled a look of courage and strength. His smile dazzled in the rays of light streaking through the bars from the window. Princess Kay sat up slowly, her eyes never breaking away from him.

“But you’re not a frog…” she whispered. The man leaned in close and took her face in his hands.

“No, I’m the prince you’ve been looking for all along.” He leaned in and kissed her on the lips. They held their kiss for a minute. Kay closed her eyes taking it all in. The stench of frogs disappeared. As she opened her eyes she was in a castle, but not her prison room, but a glorious chamber filled with statues and chandeliers and flowers of every color. She looked up into the eyes of the Prince, he smiled back.

The door creaked as it opened. Katherine sat up from the couch and reached a withered, wrinkled finger out and turned the TV off by the remote. The image on the screen faded away into black. She turned her attention to the door. Stan stumbled in slowly, supporting himself on his old, wooden cane. Katherine laughed, he was just as cute as the day she married him. Stan reached the couch, one hand behind his back, a sly smile stretched across his face. “What’s behind your back?” Katherine asked with a chuckle. Stan pulled his arm out from behind his back; it shook as he brought it forward. Katherine brought her hands to her face and gasped at the sight of it. Wrapped under his wrinkled, splotched fingers was a bouquet of flowers and small red box topped with a golden bow. “Oh Stan,” Katherine uttered, taking the flowers and box from his hand.

“Open the box first,” Stan suggested, his eyes twinkling. Katherine laid the bouquet of flowers down on the couch beside her and held the box in front of her. She pulled the golden bow off the top and pulled off the lid. She peeled back the white tissue paper inside and clapped her hands with delight with what she saw. “Thank you Stanley,” she cried placing a tender hand on his arm.

“Well, take it out, we all want to see,” he chuckled. Katherine feeble squeezed his arm and then pulled the object from the box; it shimmered in the light of the ceiling fan above their heads.

“I love it,” she said holding the tiny sterling silver frog up into the light. She turned and kissed Stan on the cheek and rose from the couch. She slid across the floor and to the glass cabinet against the wall. She turned the key and opened it up. She delicately placed the tiny silver frog on the top shelf beside the other frogs, posed in various positions. She glided back to the couch and took a seat, taking Stan’s hands in hers. “Fifty frogs for fifty years,” she said with a smile. Stan smiled back.

“Now the flowers,” he said picking them up and handing them to her. “There’s a note attached.” Katherine took them from his hand and held the note up at eye level. She scanned across the white slip of paper, delicately pinched between her fingers.

And they lived happily ever after.