The Tortoise and the Harry | Cassidy McCleary
me and storming out of here.” So he did. And then he remembered that it was his wedding that he himself had so rudely interrupted. “I guess we should probably go back out there, right? I think by this point my poor mother has had an aneurism,” He said with a sigh. “Maybe not an aneurism, but at least a minor conniption,” she said, and they both laughed. “What should we tell them?” As much of a relief as it was to tell Wren, he wasn’t ready to publish his experiment results too widely yet. “Leave that to me,” she said and grabbed his hand. They slipped back through the door, hands still linked, and took their places at the altar again. “Are you ready to meld minds now?” the officiant asked incredulously. “Of course, sir. Don’t mind Harry. His tortoise must have rubbed off on him, because he had some cold-blooded feet for a moment,” She winked at Harry, her dimples finally making an appearance again, and mouthed just go with it. All the guests chuckled except for his mother; she still looked a little shellshocked. But if he had had any doubts about Wren’s genius before now, they would have been erased. They grabbed hands and stared at each other for the requisite ten seconds, willing each other not to laugh while trying to look convincingly telepathic. The officiant proclaimed them married and melded, and after a quick peck, they ran down the aisle to the car waiting outside to take them to the reception. Crisis Averted, Darwin. Told you it would be fine. Although, you realize they’re gonna find out eventually, don’t you? Harry’s eye twitched.
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