It was a lovely summer day; the perfect day for a wedding, or in this case, a second wedding. The bride and the groom glowed with pleasure and happiness, their grown children from past marriages proudly at their sides.
The ceremony was held outside; the decorations were simple but lovely; the vows were personalised and meaningful; their children included every step of the way. Friends and family of the bride and groom mingled and introduced themselves. Everyone was happy to witness this second chance at love.
A delicious meal was served later in the afternoon and the guests sipped wine and enjoyed the savoury meal, enjoying the opportunity to share their ‘How do you know the bride/ groom’ stories. As everyone relaxed and more wine flowed, the noise level gradually began to grow until it would have been impossible to follow a conversation at another table. Everyone was having a wonderful time.
The loud clinking of a glass signalled the time for toasting and good wishes. Several family members stood and gave moving speeches, as the guests applauded and smiled their good wishes for the happy couple. The wine continued to flow as glasses were raised over and over again throughout the room. When all the prepared speeches appeared to be finished, the handsome groom stood and voiced a few loving words to his beautiful bride, whose eyes brimmed with happy tears.
The perfect end to a perfect day.
Just as the groom was sitting back down to soundly kiss his glowing new wife, an old girlfriend of the bride, sitting near the back of the room, stood unsteadily to her feet. She loudly struck a butter knife against her glass, which shattered as a messy spray of champagne soaked the front of her dress. Laughing stridently, she began her own speech, starting with the story of a party from days gone by, when the bride in question disappeared one evening with some handsome stranger and didn’t resurface for a full two days.
The stories became progressively more detailed and they seemed to go on and on and as the friend, oblivious, added more and more sordid details of her drunken, party-filled youth with the bride – now sitting very still, red-faced and horrified. The crowd grew uneasy, stealing uncomfortable glances at one another. Several women tried – without success – to shush the wayward, rambling guest.
The solemn-faced groom abruptly leaving the table signalled the end of the festivities.
The marriage lasted two years before acrimoniously ending in divorce.
In retrospect, they never really stood a chance…
Patti Moore Wilson © wednesdayschildca.wordpress.com