Wedding half baked

After five years of planning this event, waiting for the harvest moon to show up at their wedding night, Steve was sick. Tessa and her friends nursed him as best as they could, while Steve got sicker and sicker, partially from the stress caused by his illness; as if a wedding day wasn’t stressful enough even for healthy people.

The day before, with Steve out of commission, the long to-do list was even more daunting and so we, the Dutch contingent pitched in for this do-it-yourself wedding.  But first we had our nails done, that is, the women in the party. Having your nails done before a work party is not such a great idea. I was glad I had not done my fingernails as they would all have chipped.

The nine of us descended on Sophia’s hair salon in Concord, some from as far as Brussels and Amsterdam, straight in with Delta, or from San Francisco, New York and DC.

I had supplied the Prosecco, colored plastic flutes, cheese, crackers and other goodies to keep us entertained and fed while the four Vietnamese nail technicians did the pedicures and manicures with smiles and in broken English.

Fridays was the big day but Steve remained sick. We brought him out for a bit on the little marriage platform, a dock supposed to be over the pond but now next to it because of the drought that had turned the pond into a mudflat.

He sat in his robe next to Tessa who held his hands as if to pass some current to hold him up, uncomfortably facing the 50 or so invitees for the intimate ceremony, who, in their turn faced him uncomfortably as he should be in bed.  Steve is not someone who likes to be the object of pity.  It was clear that the carefully orchestrated ceremony would have to wait. Luckily Tessa and Steve had had the good foresight to have two days of celebrations. There were more tears as Steve stumbled back to bed, leaning on his brother’s arm. It was not what anyone had imagined.He was joined by his also sick sister and they watched movies and drank Theraflu while outside we partied as good and best as we could.

The whole day was characterized by Disappointment. It wasn’t until after our fabulous macaroni and cheese dinner (of various kinds, including jalapeno and gluten free) that Tessa could relax. We sat around a bonfire and Tessa was finally able to laugh watching her Dutch relatives figure out the idea of s’mores with giant marshmallows precariously attached to flammable branches. It was a lovely night, except for the missing groom.

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