My father tilted his head, a faraway look in his eyes.
"He told me to get better. That I was too young to kick the bucket just yet and that he didn’t want to lose the only father he had left." He turned to me and smiled softly. "He said a bunch of other really melodramatic stuff that men of our nature don't really like to admit to, stuff about love and family and loyalty, and all that crap. You know."
I smiled and shook my head. "You’re both old softies at heart."
"I'll deny that to my dying day," he said and laughed.
Outside the bedroom, I heard the harpist start to play music, signaling that the few guests who were attending must be arriving.
"Guess it's almost time," my father said. "Better finish up your primping and preening. Take a pee before we get started."
I smiled and stood up, deciding to take his advice.
As I waited to use the en suite bathroom, I thought about the wedding. I had insisted that we not get married in church as I no longer considered myself a practicing Catholic. My father was initially upset, but he finally gave in.
We would have less than a dozen guests, most of them friends of my father's and colleagues from Doctors Without Borders. Nigel and his partner were attending as was Dave Mills. Michael had flown in from Nairobi the night before, but strangely, Claire had been unable to come.
I felt bad that Dawn wasn't attending, but we hadn't been able to reconcile, despite how happy I was with Drake. It was a hole in my life that would never be filled. Lara attended, demanding to have some role, since it was she who selected Drake for me based on my profile at FetLife and met me to discuss my “research”.
I had wanted to spend the previous night at my father's so Drake and I could follow protocol and not see each other for the 24-hour period prior to our wedding, but Drake wouldn't hear of it.
"I said I didn't want us to be separated again, and I want it to stay that way," Drake said when I suggested spending the night at my father's. "To hell with your silly superstition. I'm a scientist, and there's simply no convincing evidence that allowing the bride and groom to see each other before the ceremony leads to a failed marriage."
"But it’s a tradition!' I protested.
"It's a tradition based on a time when the bride and groom had never even seen each other and was intended to prevent one or the other from running off in horror when they did. We've both already seen every single naked inch of each other so there's no fear of that. Besides, look what happened to my first marriage. We followed all the rules."
I couldn't argue. Drake had a traditional wedding with Maureen, and had been apart for the night before the wedding. It did nothing to protect their marriage.
I relented and stayed with him the night before the ceremony, but I made it a point to not look at him that entire evening and when we made love, he blindfolded me, which, luckily, was not a departure from the norm given the nature of our bedroom games. Drake tried to make me look him in the eye, but I was successful in avoiding it, studiously keeping my eyes squeezed shut even when he tickled me, making me silly with laughter afterward.
I got up really early the day of our wedding, didn't even look at him once my eyes opened, and careful slipped out of the apartment we now shared before he woke up. I knew that if I didn't, he'd forced me to look in his eyes to make a point.
I didn't want to take chances with Fate, as much as I knew he was right.
So it was that I hadn't seen Drake for almost twenty-four hours when our late afternoon ceremony at my father's apartment appro
ached. Elaine, Heath's wife Christie and I had been sipping champagne cocktails while we dressed, to take the edge off our nerves, and so once Elaine was finished with my hair, attaching the veil to a clip in my up do, I had to use the washroom.
Christie was inside the en suite, so I slipped outside the bedroom to the main washroom down the hall, holding my dress up so I didn’t trip over it, but I stepped on the tulle and I fell against the wall trying not to rip it, my dress bunched up around me.
"Oh, Damn…" I muttered as I tried to free my foot from the fabric.
It was then Drake appeared, ruining my plans to avoid seeing him until I walked down the aisle. All I saw was a flash of sober black, a white bow tie, black shiny hair and blue-blue eyes beneath thick black lashes, but it was enough to know it was my husband-to-be. The man who could still take my breath away, he was that gorgeous.
I groaned and squeezed my eyes shut.
"Dammit!" I said, covering my eyes with a hand. "I didn’t want to see you yet!"
"Well, nice to see you, too, Ms. Bennet," he said, his voice filled with humor. "Falling over in the hallway, are you? I don't see any high heels on you this time. Or any bloody knees and hands but I do hope you're wearing some nice garters and stockings…"
I grinned at the reference to that first time we met, but kept my hand plastered over my eyes so I couldn't see him. "Only my usual deft footing to blame, I'm afraid. Please go away so I can go to the washroom without seeing you."
"You already saw me," he said and bent down, freeing my foot from the hole I had made in the tulle despite my efforts to avoid it. Then he stood and took my hands in his, prying them away from my eyes. I kept my eyes shut regardless. "If you’re right, you might as well accept that our marriage is over, and we might as well break up right now."
I opened my eyes at that, only to see his huge grin.
"I knew that would work," he said and held me out at arm's length. Then, he turned me around in a circle, the train of my dress twisting so that I had to bend down and fix it. When I stood back up, the train in my hand, his eyes moved over me, stopping on my cleavage, which the strapless bodice was unable to entirely keep restrained. He made a little sound in the back of his throat when I fixed it, pulling the bodice up a bit to cover myself.