Gentle Reader, you’ll recall from Wednesday that Bernie, the Groom, had been handling every little crisis personally (very bravely, I might add) and that we essentially had to form a protective wall and usher him out. Or something along those lines.
Thus it was that Mr. Darling, Miss Taylor, and I stepped into the role of Wedding-Coordinators. It was going pretty smoothly as such things go – I mean, there were situations, but there weren’t situations – until it turned out that neither the mother of the bride nor the mother of the groom had been told they were participating in the ceremony itself, and that furthermore, the rings were missing.
The rings. Were missing.
We finally located them about six o’clock, an hour after curtain was due to rise, so to speak. The bride and groom were incommunicado across the lake, and we were all as sodden as creatures of the sea. I am very stressed and cross in this next photo, as we anxiously wait on the beach for some word of when we can begin herding the guests down towards the shore.
And then – Darling got a call. They were ready, they were about to leave, things were finally about to begin. I went to dash off to round up the guests – and promptly slipped on the wet rocks of the beach, splattering sand all over my official Officiant suit. I quickly got wiped down, and started quietly murmuring to little knots of congregated guests that the festivities were shortly to begin. That done, the wedding party marched smartly down the dock to greet the wedding barge, and I took up my post at the arch.
The bride and groom arrived, preceded by the flower girls. Did I mention the barge? They arrived by barge, and the wedding party joyfully helped them onto the dock.
The ceremony went smoothly, although I was a little cross with the DJ for twice shutting of the mike in the middle of me talking. No matter; he hadn’t been at the rehearsal, and he’d arrived late enough that we hadn’t had time to coordinate with one another. Despite my tearing up a little during the vows, after a few moments, my friends were wed. The bridal party formed an arch –
– and then it was done. The Spectaculars, honored guests!
They promptly took a victory lap around the lake, and I dashed off for a well-earned cigarette and a celebratory glass of champagne. The Caperes looked after me, after that – Laurence was kind enough to brave the buffet line on my behalf, for example – and I teared up at various times over the evening.
During the cake, for example:
And during the first dance:
But especially during the toasts. What can I say? I have a sentimental heart.
It was a good wedding, and I’m so very happy for my friends. Congratulations, you guys.