This is the 2nd part of the grooms story. Come next week to read the ending!
Down in the dressing room my reflection looked at me from
the mirror and nodded in a sort of general approval. I had cleaned up
nicely, and had worked out and eaten right and whatnot for a while before the wedding
because I wanted to look good in the pictures.
Pictures, as it happened, were being taken of the bride and
whatever other hoopla that accompanies a room full of women preparing for a
wedding. I don’t know what goes on, but the thought of it terrifies me.
I wasn’t concerned about the wedding photographers. Jess (my
sister) and Tony (we might as well be related) from Dark Light Portrait Studios
had given their professional services as a wedding gift to us. Both were
(and continue to be) incredibly talented photographers and I already knew what
they were capable of, so being concerned about wedding pictures never even made
it onto my radar scope.
In that capacity I can’t relate to any drama that engaged
folks have in terms of finding the perfect photographer, but I imagine it’s a
whole other thing.
I had a nice showing of friends at the thing. Chris,
who would officiate the ceremony thanks to being ordained online, had come all
the way from Alaska just to do the ceremony and visit for a couple of days.
James and his wife had come from St. Louis. Pat had come from
Montana to be the best man. Cousin Matt came in from Illinois.
Grumpy and his wife flew in from Vegas.
Gallo flew in from California. He missed his flight,
then got drunk in the terminal waiting for the rescheduled flight, and
subsequently missed that one. The morning of the wedding I found him
sleeping in his rental car in the driveway. He’d arrived in the middle of
the night, drank a few beers in the driveway, and slept in his car because he
didn’t want to wake anyone up.
That’s how he rolls.
A little while before the ceremony started a few of them
came down and hung out with me in the dressing room. There was a good
deal of friendly ribbing taking place, much of which centered around the idea
of “Run. I’ll cover you”, and “It’s not too late to fake
your own death”. I considered both.
I got the butterflies right before it was time to get up in
front of everybody and stand there in my penguin suit. It started sprinkling
a little. The music also started. It was the “Butterfly
Waltz” by Brian Crain, which is lovely if you haven’t heard it.
Patrick stood behind me. He and I have been friends
since before either of us can remember. He had the ring box in his pocket
and had been given very explicit instructions by Jenny (with whom nobody wanted
to argue) not to even open the box and look at the ring for fear of losing it.
The real reason we didn’t want him to look is that I had sketched a
rudimentary picture of a nutsack and hid it in the box so when he opened it to
hand me the ring, there it would be. He’d be sacked, and would then have
to try not to laugh amidst the overarching gravity of the occasion.
Sacking people is a game long played by my friends and me.
It would take some time to explain.
Zach Wakefield is a family man from Vermont with many interests including a
variety of musical instruments, electronic engineering and inventing, medieval
weaponry, and creative writing. He also manages a blog, aptly named
Things to Read ” which he uses as a
creative outlet or just a place to goof around with words. Zach has also
published a lovely little illustrated story-poem entitled “ Rutkin ” (an equally, if not as obviously, apt name)
which, as you’ll see if you click on the link there, is available on