An Idiot in Love (a laugh out loud comedy)
Page 23
Max was also smiling; he sat alongside a few distant cousins who, until recently, I wouldn't have been able to pick out of a crowded room. He seemed to have the attentions of an attractive pair of twins -- three places removed on my mother’s side, or two on my fathers, it was hard to keep track. Whatever Max was telling them they were impressed. There were usually only two things that Max could impress women with: his action figure collection and his money, and the girls didn’t look like Sci-fi fans.
Also at the head of the congregation, sitting on the other side of the aisle to my parents, were the mother and father of the bride. I started when I saw them, almost tripping over backwards. They were both glaring at me. The mother warning me of her disappointed should I run out on her daughter, the father threatening to beat me up regardless.
‘You look nervous mate.’
Matthew was standing next to me; I felt his elbow nudge mine.
‘I’m shitting myself,’ I whispered. ‘I don’t think I can do this.’
‘Calm down, it’ll be fine.’
‘I don’t think it will be.’ I turned to look at the vicar, dressed in full garb. He was holding a book, preparing the vows. I wondered how many of them I would mess up, how many I would get wrong.
Matthew’s hand reached around my back, his fingers tight on my skin. ‘You’ll be fine, trust me.’
Then the music started. The Bridal Chorus. I felt my heart sink. There was nowhere to run, she was coming, if I wanted to leave I would have to do so when she was here, scaring her for life just before her father did the same to me.
I gulped down a thick glob of resistant phlegm and squeezed my eyes shut.
I heard the sound of activity as everyone turned to see the blushing bride. I heard a few gasps. Some mumbling. Some whispers.
I opened my eyes slowly.
Elizabeth was gliding down the aisle. My breath caught in my throat when I saw her. She was stunning; she looked like an angel, floating above the ground, the bright white dress lapping at the floor around her feet.
I could see her blue eyes through the veil, she was staring at me; she was smiling. I returned the smile. The anxiety vanished, the fear was gone. She had cut a line of ease through the judging congregation, softening them all in my eyes. My heart was still beating like a techno drum, but for different reasons. I wasn’t worried anymore. I didn’t have cold feet.
When she stood in front of me I told her how beautiful she looked. I told her I loved her, and then, minutes later, I said two words that meant more than those compliments combined.
After the wedding dinner I received congratulations and admiration from people I knew and loved, and people I wasn’t sure I had ever met. Elizabeth's father had a little too much champagne with his meal and before he tucked into dessert he was telling me I was the perfect person to for his daughter whilst warning me not to hurt her in equal measures.
It was a long day, but it was a happy day. Elizabeth was by my side the entire time. We relaxed down a little at the evening party. The music was playing, the crowd was mingling, everyone had had a little to drink and we were counting the seconds until we could leave for the hotel.
‘I’m still not sure if your dad likes me,’ I told Elizabeth, cradling her in my arms as we moved gently to a fast song, the rest of the dance floor jumping and swinging to the beat.
‘He does, trust me. I like you, so he likes you.’
‘I like that logic. I don’t believe it, but I like it.’
The song finished, I escorted her off the dance floor, hand in hand.
I kissed her lightly on the cheek and wove my hand further down her body. Over her breasts, voluptuously pressing against the silky soft material, and her stomach, also protruding against the dress.
My hand stopped on the curvature under her navel. I dropped to one knee, pressed my face close. Elizabeth giggled softly. ‘And how’s my little boy?’ I asked the small bump.
‘Tired.’
‘Oh, and he’s talking now!’
Elizabeth laughed, running her hands down to meet mine, her manicured fingernails brushing against my skin. ‘I’m tired as well,’ she noted. ‘I can’t wait to get back to the hotel.’
, I looked up and winked at her. ‘I can’t wait to get back either,’ I said suggestively.
‘Oh, you must be ready for bed as well then.’
We walked to the buffet table where Matthew waited with his wife, his arm casually thrown across her bare shoulders. She was an attractive woman, a former model, just his type. But she was also nearly a decade older than him and had more PhDs than he had GCSEs.
Behind them Max was busying himself on the buffet table, his back to them and us as we approached. I walked with protective arms around Elizabeth, one over her shoulder, the other firmly planted on her stomach.
‘You thought of a name yet?’ Matthew quizzed, nodding towards the semi-bulge.
I exchanged looks with Elizabeth and shrugged. She had thought of a few, I had knocked them back. I had thought of dozens, she had rejected every single one.
‘I quite like Maximilian,’ she said with a furtive glance at Max.
Max beamed and showed his teeth, wedged with flakes of pasty and bits of meat. A small shower of crumbs rained down his jacket, he ignored them.
‘Like me!’ he declared, firing pastry fireballs at Matthew’s shoulder.
Matthew groaned and rubbed his shoulder down, then he stared at me. A warning stare. I looked right back.
‘No,’ we both spat in perfect harmony.
Max sagged slightly, he closed his mouth, a sliver of spinach clung to his lip for dear life.
‘Nothing personal,’ I lied.
He cheered up a bit and turned around to concentrate on further filling his face and dirtying his suit.
‘Just a thought,’ Elizabeth said calmly.
‘We have plenty of time to think of a name.’ I wrapped my arms around her, kissed her on the forehead, the cheek, the lips. Then I released, lowered and planted a kiss on her stomach. ‘No rush,’ I added softly.
Before I departed to the hotel I escorted everyone out of the building. I had already seen and heard from everyone, but now they were lubed up with alcohol, the day was almost over and everyone wanted to offer more congratulations. Elizabeth retired early, using her condition as an excuse, so I waited by the exit alone as streams of drunken revellers left via the door behind me.
After I thought everyone had departed, my dad came through from the main room. His eyes puffy, his tie pulled loose and shoved over his shoulder. I thought he might go for a hug to match the occasion, he didn’t. He shook my hand.
‘I’m still amazed you married her,’ he told me. I saw a glint of genuine pride and elation in his eyes, he tried to hide it but it was there.
‘I know,’ I huffed. ‘The first girl I ever fancied, my first girlfriend, then over a decade later: my wife.’
‘No, I mean I always thought you batted for the other side.’
I slumped my shoulders and glared at him disapprovingly.
He shrugged, as if to say that he couldn’t help it. He slapped a heavy hand on my shoulder, ‘You did well kiddo.’
‘Thanks Dad.’
He looked tearful, but he brushed passed me and left before those tears developed.
My mother came next. She didn’t restrain herself, she was already crying on her approach. The tears rolled down her face in streams, her whole face a picture of distress. She looked like she had been out in a storm.
She threw her arms around me, her tears soaking into my shirt and dampening my skin. She mumbled a heartfelt and extended conversation into my shoulder, I couldn’t understand a word. Then she pulled back, gargled something profound, fluttered her eyelids forlornly and then withdrew.
I trudged back into the main room to check there were no stragglers.
Throughout the night the room had been lit by small lights embedded in the walls and around the dance floor like a sparkling border. Fluorescen
t lights in the ceiling now bore down onto a floor littered with party streamers, scraps of food and carelessly dropped paper plates and plastic pint glasses.
Tables that had once been so neatly and immaculately arranged, were scattered and disjointed; perfectly pressed white tablecloths hung from their wooden tops like dusty, lopsided hats. Chairs that began the night under repressed backsides had lost their formality in a midst of alcohol and joviality and were now strewn around the room.
It was a war zone, but at least the war had been won.
I lifted my hand to the light, looking one last time at the large banner which ran a tacky line across the top wall, its colourful plastic coating slightly peeled in places and leaking lines down to the buffet table beneath. The adhesive in the top right had lost its hold and the corner flopped miserable. The entire banner sagged in the middle, a few hours and a few feet from drooping into the punch bowl.
It was still readable though, still prominent. I let the image burn into my head and snapped off the light. In the immediate darkness I could still see those bright red letters, my name, her name, our surname, and then: Happily Married. And we were, and I knew that it would last.
Thank you for reading.
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Also available from David Jester:
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Table of Contents
Copyright
1 Kerry Newsome
2 In Lenny’s Footsteps
3 Lizzie
4 Teenage Dreams Part One: Katie
5 Teenage Dreams Part Two: Trinity
6 Teenage Dreams Part Three: Penny
7 First Love
8 Love in the Work Place Part One: Silence
9 Love in the Work Place Part Two: Mr and Mrs
10 Love in the Work Place Part Three: Melissa
11 Melissa, Jessie and Everyone Else
12 Orange and Red
13 The Quick and the Dead
14 The Film Star and the Model
15 Doctor Peterson
16 Keith and Beth
Epilogue
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