THE WEDDING
Kerri Thomson
Copyright© 2012 Kerri Thomson
ISBN: 9781301696604
The Unborn
Digging The Grave
The Wedding
Brooke studied her guest list one more time, she was sure she had invited every friend, relative and who’s who she could possibly think of. Even though all the R.S.V.P’s had been returned in due course, she wanted to make doubly sure that no one had been left out. Her wedding meant the world to her and she wanted to ensure that it was perfect.
“Mum, did Mayor Crowley return an acceptance yet?” she cried out from the kitchen table.
“Yes dear, I put their card in with the other two hundred or so acceptances.” Brooke rummaged through the acceptance file until she found the Mayors card. A broad smile of gratitude graced her face as she read the verse on the card. It is with great pleasure and delight that we accept this warm invitation to your upcoming marriage. Mayor and Mrs Crowley. The smile on Brooke’s face softened as she placed the card back into the file, the Mayor and his wife were such beautiful people and she had always thought so. She believed it was an honour that they were taking time out of their hectic schedules to attend her big day, and she appreciated it.
Ever since she was old enough to walk and steal her Mother’s best frangipani’s from her garden, Brooke had dreamed about her wedding day and would spend hours rehearsing the slow steps down the aisle, the vows, the exchanging of the rings and of course, the final lingering kiss of the blissfully wedded couple. That was nothing compared to the days she would just while away, dreaming up her wedding dress, it had to have the perfect cut, the exact sheen and naturally it had to be the designer gown to surpass even the best of any New York or Paris runway!
Her Groom, quite naturally, would be the most dashing and handsome man in the entire town. After all, what good would the perfect wedding be without having the man every woman adores and dreams of? Brooke had always thought that no wedding was complete without the townsfolk, the women in particular, drooling over her husband to be and gossiping about how lucky she was to snare the catch of the decade! The very idea of it sent a tingle of excitement down her spine.
Oh yes, her wedding was mapped out right down to the finest of details, long before any such proposal had even arrived. That was simply a mere technicality, it had never even dared cross her mind that one may never come, that was inconceivable, and to Brooke it would equal a fate worse than death! All girls get married, it is just the way things go and Brooke was no different to any other girl in that respect. Although she felt she was a more likely candidate than most, to be offered a proposal, maybe even numerous proposals, at an early age. Not that she thought she was better than anyone else, she just felt that she was born to be married, it was her destiny. She was quite simply, a Bride waiting to happen.
After ticking the Mayor and his wife off the acceptance column in her planner, she closed it and walked into the living room to join her mother.
“Oh Mum, I am beat. This wedding planning is a massive job, I honestly can’t wait till it’s all over and I can just enjoy being married,” she said.
Her mother looked at her with a sympathetic smile and said “I remember thinking the same thing when I married your Father.”
Brooke suddenly scoured the room like an edgy private eye, “Speaking of Dad, where is he?”
“I think he’s gone to check on the caterers again. You know your father, he’s as excited about this wedding as you are love.”
As if she were a little more relaxed knowing her father was out of the way, at least for a short while, Brooke settled down deeper into her recliner and watched he mother sew the last of the beads onto her delicate wedding gown.
Her Dad was excited about the wedding, that was true, but Brooke just wished he would stop rambling on about Grant.
“That young Grant,” he had started “He’s a fine, strapping lad Brooke. He’ll take excellent care of you, I have absolutely no doubt about that.”
“Yes Dad, you’re right. But there’s more to being married that just taking care of me,” Brooke had interceded.
“Oh yes, yes, yes, I understand that my sweet, after all, your mother and I have been married for thirty odd years! He’s got a good head on his shoulders that young fella, and having his own business is a giant leg up in this day and age. The life he can give you is beyond any dreams your mother and I could have ever imagined for you.” “That is true,” she had acknowledged “But I am not marrying for money or position you know. I am marrying for love.”
“For love?” Her Dad scoffed back at her, cutting her short. “Love is a fine thing to be marrying for Brooke, but despite what you hear, love is just part of the bigger picture. You need stability, a gentle but firm hand and money never goes astray either, and Grant can give you all that, just bare that in mind my girl.”
“Ouch!” Brooke was snapped back from her thoughts to find her mother shaking her hand vigorously.
“What is it?” she asked her mother, stunned. “I pricked myself with the needle, boy that smarts,” she replied and then began sucking her thumb madly. With a smirk dancing across her face, Brooke got out of her chair.
“How about I make us a nice cuppa?”
“That sounds great love, I think it’s time I took a little break,” her mother replied, relieved that she didn’t have to look at another tiny bead for at least a half an hour.
“So how much longer before you are finished?” yelled Brooke from the kitchen.
“Well as long as there are no more injuries, I should be done tonight.” She walked up behind Brooke and put her arms around her, “Don’t worry love, it’ll be done by tomorrow. Nothing is going to stop your wedding day from running smoothly,” she cooed.
“What about.?”
Her mother spun her around and stared at her with a seriousness Brooke has never seen before. “I will take care of your father, you just enjoy your day and take care of that groom of yours!” She leant in and gave her mother a kiss on the cheek, “Thanks mum, you’re the best!”
As she filled the teapot, Brooke heard the garage door roll up. “Oh no, it’s dad,” she wailed.
“Better get another cup out love and put your ear plugs in,” her mother jeered, sensing her tension. Unable to do anything else, she let out a pitiful chuckle and pulled another cup from the cupboard. The back door flew open and her father stepped inside, the disgruntled look on her face was a pretty fair indication of how his final check with the caterers went.
“Those people, there’s just no accounting for taste,” he grumbled. “What is it dad, what’s happened?” alarm bells sounded in Brookes head. “Did you know that they altered the menu? Instead of beef, which is Grant’s favourite, they have changed it to chicken!”
Unable to control herself any longer, Brooked butted in. “This is my wedding dad, I altered the menu… I’m sure Grant won’t mind eating chicken instead. I am in charge of the catering and this wedding, and that is what I want, ok?”
Flabbergasted, he stood back unsure of what to do next.
“Now if there are no more concerns about who likes this more than that, I’d like to get on with my wedding, the way I would like to have it!” and with that she ran to her bedroom before a full blown argument erupted.
All her childhood dreams of the perfect wedding were crashing down around her, how could this be happening? The nights she’d spent with her head buried in bridal magazines, using a delicate blend of culture and taste to define the faultless gown and accompanying bridesmaids dressed seemed wasted. Those numerous hours taken up perusing the catering menus with a fine tooth comb just to be sure that she had chosen exactly what she had wanted… it all seemed moot. Her father, for whatev
er reason, was determined to undermine her choices at every possible angle. He loathed the flowers, despised the dining selection and cringed when she told him that she wanted a garden wedding. All he was interested in was Grant. It was always Grant this and Grant that and what if Grant doesn’t like it?
Why couldn’t she get through to her dad that this was her dream, her time to make the decisions? Once she is married, she is more than happy to stand by her husband’s side and follow whatever plans and decisions he may make, but right now, it was her turn. She hadn’t thought it was too much of her to ask that she be in control of planning and deciding on issues regarding the wedding. Maybe she was asking too much? Or maybe, just maybe, her father was finding it a little difficult to let her go. The
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