The Wedding

The room’s subtle palette of white decor glowed in the soft light of the discreetly hidden lamps, making a wonderful backdrop for Diane’s clinging burgundy dress Her diamond wedding ring glittered as she swept her glossy blonde-streaked hair back, smiling sweetly.

    “Please make yourself comfortable. Will you take care of the drinks, Gerald, darling? I’ll have a gin and tonic.”

Moira plumped herself down into an overstuffed armchair and patted her grey bob back into place.

      “Gerry, you know I love red wine, but I’d better stick to white in case I spill something.” She looked around the room. “You must have done the decorating, Diane. He’d never have come up with something this elegant on his own.”

       “I have a wonderful interior designer. I’d be happy to give you her name,” Diane said.

      “That’s kind of you, but I’m kind of a thrift shop junkie. Got into the habit when we were first married and broke. Now I just do it for the fun of it. Gerry, do you remember those Salvation Army chairs we repainted? You thought they’d dried and then my mother sat down on one in her Sunday best dress and stuck to it.”

      Gerald started to chuckle, then hastily cleared his throat as Diane smiled icily.

     “One white wine and one gin and tonic coming right up,” he said, scuttling off to the kitchen.

      “You do look elegant,” Moira said. “I feel a bit under-dressed. I admire you for being able to walk in those stilettos.” She glanced down at her own sensible suede pumps.

     “My mother says there comes an age at which comfort is more important than style. I just thought I should look nice for Paula’s engagement. Oh, finally. Here comes Gerald.”

      Gerald carefully served the drinks and arranged some platters of hors d’oeuvres on the coffee table. He raised his glass.

     “On the occasion of her engagement, I’d like to propose a toast to Paula, our daughter, I mean, she’s all our daughter …”

     “Oh, for goodness sake, Gerald,” said Diane. “Just say cheers and be done with it.”

      “Cheers,” said Moira, taking a gulp of her wine. “Gerry, do I have to thank Diane for your improved taste in wine as well as in home decoration? This is good. He used to bring home the cheapest plonk. It’s so hard to get old dogs to change their habits.”

     “It can’t have been as bad as all that. You drank plenty of it.”

Diane rolled her eyes.

    “I hate to interrupt these fond reminiscences, but where is the happy couple?”

At that moment, the doorbell rang. Gerald leaped to his feet, almost upsetting his drink.

   “That’ll be them. I’ll get it.”

Moira shrugged apologetically.

   “She did say they might be a few minutes late. She’s frantically working on her dissertation and Bernard has been invited to do a presentation at some conference in Switzerland at the end of the month. Academia’s tough, as you know. But at least you’re out of that rat race.”

 Diane stretched her elegant legs.

    “I’m a little old fashioned in some ways. I think it’s important to support one’s husband in his endeavors. I couldn’t do that if I were still working.”

   “You’re probably right. Gerry always was naïve. He tends to get into trouble when left unattended. Speaking from experience here.”

  Before Diane could respond, Gerald returned, proudly escorting Paula and a burly young man with a bushy black beard. Paula bounded over to hug her mother, almost sweeping her off her feet and planting a smacking kiss on her cheek.

    “Careful! Don’t want to spill my wine,” said Moira. “Hello, Bernard. Hope you’re not too frazzled from your studies. Glad you could fit this into your calendar before you head to Switzerland.”

Bernard smiled shyly and nodded. Paula carefully edged around the coffee table for Diane’s delicate embrace.

     “Diane! Never thought I’d be looking up to you. Wait, it’s those shoes. Super cool, but I bet they’re killing your feet. Give me my Crocs any day. Bernard, this is my father’s wife, Diane.”

     “Delighted to meet you and congratulations,” said Diane, graciously proffering her hand. Bernard froze for a moment as if unsure whether to kiss it or shake it. He settled for a quick grasp, then retreated behind Paula, rocking a small end table with spindly legs. Diane suppressed a gasp. Paula laughed.

       “You’d better sit down before you do any damage,” she said. “This isn’t your natural habitat. Don’t worry, Diane. He’s house-trained. It’s just that he spends a lot of time out in the field with wildlife where the social niceties aren’t a priority. He specializes in studying rattus norvegicus, also known as the brown rat, and other rodents.”

        “My goodness,” said Diane with a shudder, taking a large swallow of gin and tonic. “That explains a lot.” She looked at Bernard’s flannel shirt and baggy jeans.

      “Don’t make me out to be a complete savage,” said Bernard, with a mock glare at Paula.

“You have a beautiful home. I’m impressed,” he said to Diane, who smiled proudly.

     “Thank you. I do believe in keeping certain standards.”

There was an awkward pause, broken when Gerald returned with more drinks.

He beamed fondly at his daughter.

      “All the best to you both. Bernard, welcome to the family.”

      “Welcome, indeed,” murmured Diane.

       “Congratulations to my baby girl and my new son,” said Moira, dabbing her eyes.

       “Don’t get all sentimental,” said Paula, laughing. “We’re too busy with wedding planning for that.”

       “I have a list of venues …” said Moira.

       “My wedding planner is available this week. She’s extremely busy. You can’t get an appointment unless you have connections…” said Diane.

       “Of course. It hasn’t been all that long since you used her services,” said Moira.

 Bernard shot a glance of silent appeal to Paula, who grinned.

         “Not to worry. We’ve booked a time at the registry office next Wednesday morning, with a nice pub lunch planned for after. We wanted to get it all done and dusted so we can include some honeymoon time in Switzerland after Bernard’s done at the conference.”

Paula raised her hand as Diane and Moira both started to speak at once.

        “Wait, wait… we thought we could do a nice party here later, if Diane’s willing to host. Mum, you could use your thrift shop skills to help me find something vintage to wear. What do you think?”

Diane and Moira eyed each other warily, then nodded. Paula, Bernard and Gerald let out a sigh of relief in unison.

        “This calls for the best champagne,” said Gerald, happily bustling off to the kitchen once more.