Act 3, Part 4: the Big Day arrives in our Romance in 3 Acts
I hardly remember the morning of our wedding day. I must’ve had breakfast but I don’t recall. I obviously got dressed at some point but other than that, it really felt like I had little to do that day until the wedding itself.
I do remember waiting awhile over at David & Debbie’s where I wrote and practiced what I wanted to say to Sara at our ceremony.
Sara, on the other hand, had her hands full that morning. Her long-time friend and bridesmaid-to-be, Lynn, had arrived and spent the night at Ginny & Harve’s along with Sara. In theory, she was there to help Sara get dressed and ready for the wedding in the morning. In practice, things were not working out so smoothly.
Ginny was in a tizzy about some last-minute problem with the caterers, and too busy having a melt-down/flare-up to help Sara. Lynn was having a melt-down of her own and had locked herself in the den, crying uncontrollably. And the florist had delivered one bridesmaid’s bouquet rather than two. See, to balance my 2 Best Men, Sara likewise had 2 friends to stand with her: Joanie, as Matron of Honor, and Lynn, as Maid of Honor.
Someone had to go to the florist and pick up the second bridesmaid’s bouquet, and as Sara looked around, she realized she was the only someone available, and headed off to the florist shop.
“Aren’t you supposed to be getting dressed now, or something?” the florist asked nervously as he quickly prepared the second bouquet.
“Yes,” she agreed, and headed back to do so.
A little while later, I arrived with my 2 Best Men at the Meeting House under an unnaturally blue sky — unnatural for a January day in New England, that is. With temperatures in the 30s, it almost felt balmy outside for a moment. It felt like even the weather had conspired to make our day perfect.
We fellows were stopped as we started to enter the Meeting House to make sure Sara was no longer posing for pre-ceremony photos at the spiral staircase at the center of ht building. We hustled past that part of the hallway, and were escorted to a small office adjacent to where our ceremony would take place shortly in the Gun Room.
Yes, we were getting married in the Gun Room, so-named for the Revolutionary War musket hanging on the wall over the fireplace. To soften its harsh appearance on our big day, Sara had slipped a single iris into the barrel of the gun, making it much more, well, festive for the occasion.
We 3 guys waited in some sort of library, poking about the room a little and looking at the books on the shelves. Scott spotted something slightly out of place on a small desk— 3 small flowers: our boutonnieres. We suddenly realized we were supposed to be wearing these and hurried to put them on quickly, helping each other to get suitably pinned but not stabbed.
About then, David arrived and asked for the license. Confusion ensued, as I had not even seen one nor did I know who was supposed to have it. David sat at an antique desk solemnly, waiting to inspect the momentarily lost license.
(By the way: the clerk who had issued the license had been amused but not persuaded by our doctor’s letters — good thing we had completed the actual blood test paperwork.)
“No license, no wedding,” David said calmly, as if he needed to. After another moment’s confusion, Scott remembered he’d been handed the license back at the house. After quickly scanning the document, David arose and smiled, saying, “Okay, we’re ready to begin.”
He exited to the Gun Room where all of our guests were gathering, and the 3 of us milled about the small office a moment more awkwardly. “What next?” Mike asked.
“Next, we signal Janie to start the music…”
Suddenly, the music began, startling us, so we hustled quickly on into the Gun Room to get the show going.
Next: The Main Event