THE WEDDING
Kerri Thomson
Published Kerri Thomson at Smashwords 
Copyright© 2012 Kerri Thomson 
ISBN: 9781301696604 
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Discover other titles by Kerri Thomson at Smashwords.com.
The Unborn
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/242721

Digging The Grave
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/242801

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 whatever 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 thought had never crossed her mind before now, perhaps her dad was still looking at her as his precious little girl and not the full-grown woman that she was? It made perfect sense to Brooke, that would explain why he was being so temperamental and couldn’t let her take charge. He was feeling that he was past his usefulness to her.
Her cheeks began to burn and her head ached, she suddenly felt so terrible for speaking so harshly to her father. She sprawled out on her bed and hugged her pillow, the one her father had given her for her thirteenth birthday. How she loved that pillow, a bright pink satin heart, daintily trimmed with fine white lace around the edges and her name embroidered in the centre in beautiful scroll. On the back there was a secret pocket hidden under the slip, inside it Brooke kept the special note her dad had written for her.
To my Brooke,
Here it is your thirteenth birthday and I am finding that you are growing way too fast. You have been my precious princess for so long, yet the time when you will spread your wings and fly away has drawn closer much too quickly. I want you to keep this pillow always, to remember how much I love you and how no matter what age you are, I will always be here for you, even big girls need their Daddies too!
Love always,
Dad. Xxx
Reading his impassioned words tugged at her heartstrings and the guilt surged through her like an electric shock. She gathered herself together and made her way back into the kitchen to apologise to her father. Tomorrow was her special day and she couldn’t imagine walking down the aisle knowing that the last words she had spoken to her father were bitter. Apart from her fiancée, her dad was the single most important man in her life, and she didn’t want that to be jeopardised over some silly fight the night before her wedding.
 Her mother turned toward her and gave her a supportive wink, her dad glanced up at her from his paper and said, “Aahh, there you are Princess, look I am sorry about before, it got a bit out of hand didn’t it?” 
Brooke threw her arms around him and hugged him in the tightest bear hug she could muster, “Oh dad, I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have gone off like that, I guess it’s just nerves eh?”
 Her father laughed one of his infamous belly laughs that she always found hysterical as a girl, and squeezed her back. “Nerves? You have no idea about nerves, why you should have seen your mother before we got married. I thought we were going to have to tranquillise her just to get her through the ceremony!  But, all’s well that ends well my sweet.” 
Brooke glanced over at her mother who was nodding her head in agreement, albeit embarrassed, and mimed Thanks mum.
“Well love, we best get cracking and finish that gown,” her mother suggested before throwing down her tea towel and walking into the living room. “Frank, would you be a dear and see to it that the boys are all under control and know what they are supposed to be doing tomorrow?” she continued. 
“Sure thing love, I’ll go check on them now. We want to make sure we still have a groom for you eh?” he joked to Brooke, digging her playfully in the ribs. She flashed him a nervous smile and made a half-baked attempt to look amused, but deep down she was waiting for him to start off on his wrap up about Grant again. Whether her father picked up on her discomfort or whether he just thought better of it, he shot her a sideways look, opened his mouth and then closed it again without saying so much as a word.
Brooke joined her mother, as she entered the living room, her eyes fell upon her wedding gown hanging gracefully on a hanger.
 “Oh mum,” was all she could manage before the tears welled in her eyes and a knot formed in her throat. 
“It’s gorgeous isn’t it?” her mother whispered. “Well here, quick, try it on,” she coached “I want to see how stunning my daughter looks in her wedding gown.” Frozen to the spot, Brooke could do nothing more than stare at the beauty her mother had spent the last six months creating for her. Slipping the ivory gown off the hanger, her mother unbuttoned the beaded, brocade bodice and slid the zipper open, motioning for Brooke to step into it. 
“Well my darling, here is your dream dress, a sweetheart neckline, three quarter sleeves and a svelte A-line skirt, complete with a three meter long train. Do you think it’ll hold your man’s attentions long enough for him to marry you?” she joked, trying to stop herself from bursting into an avalanche of tears. After wiping the tears from her eyes, Brooke nodded and stripped off her nightie, ready to step into the gown. With both feet planted firmly on the ground inside the skirt, her mother pulled the dress up around Brooke and fastened the buttons and zip. For a moment neither of them could speak, they were just silent as they both gazed in the full-length mirror on the other side of the room.
“I, I,” “I look like a bride! I am finally going to be a bride!” cried Brooke. She turned and faced her mother, “I don’t know what I would have done without you mum, it’s simply stunning… thank you.”
 Still fighting back the tears, her mother replied “You go out there and marry that boy tomorrow, and don’t worry about your father, he’ll be fine. I am so proud of you Brooke.” Her mother then threw her arms around her and gave her the longest embrace she had ever given her. When she had stepped out of the dress, she hung it back over the hanger and covered it with the dry cleaners bag to protect it until tomorrow.
She looked at her mum with curiosity building inside her and then asked “Mum, why is dad so set on Grant?” Her mother just stared at her, not certain how to reply. “I know it’s a good thing that he likes him and all, but of all the boyfriends I’ve had, what was so special about Grant that he left such an impression on dad?” 
Letting out a defeated sigh, she replied “Sweetheart, I honestly don’t know. Maybe Grant just struck a personal chord with your father that neither of us knows about. But don’t dwell on it, he still loves you as much as he always has.” 
“I guess,” Brooke started “It’d just be nice to think that,”
“To think what?” an inquisitive voice piped up from the hallway. 
“Grandma!” squealed Brooke, tripping over herself in a mad rush to give her a welcoming cuddle. 
“Hello pet, how are the nerves? I’m not too late for a teeny nightcap with you before you sneak off to catch your beauty sleep am I?” 
“Oh Grandma, you are still as feisty as ever,” laughed Brooke.
 They both turned when the sound of rattling approached them, her mother had brought the decanter and glasses into the living room. 
“Hello mum, let me take those bags,” she said before planting a warm kiss on Grandma’s cheek. 
Grandma returned the gesture and said “Hello Rose, it’s so nice to see you again,” and then jovially added “Especially when you offer such wonderful beverages!”
Grandma had always been partial to a little nip of gin every now and again… a little now and again, and again, and again, Brooke had always thought. She was quite often the life of the party with a few nips under her belt, although quite frankly, the trick she does with her false teeth used to scare the heck out of Brooke and her school friends. Yet the more they screamed, the more Grandma would continue her dental assault, it was really very haunting… when she was eight! She was a twisted old woman for sure, but that’s what Brooke had loved about her, she never ceased to amaze and amuse those she came in contact with. For a long time Grandma was her confidant, she felt she could tell her anything and most of the time she did just that.
“Tell me Rose, where’s that son of mine?” asked grandma in manner that dictated that she had only just realised he wasn’t there.
 “I sent him out to check on the boys and make sure that they are all behaving and know their part tomorrow, he shouldn’t be too long now,” she replied as she poured a generous shot for grandma.
 With a hearty laugh, grandma slapped her knee and cried “Oh good Lord woman, he won’t be home anytime soon, I bet ya ten to one he’s hittin' the hard stuff with them young fellas as we speak!” Still chuckling, she downed her shot and held her glass out for another. 
“Oh dear,” Rose answered “I hadn’t thought about that, they wouldn’t do that would they?”
 Grandma looked at Brooke and wrinkled her nose up and poked out her tongue, to signal that she was pulling her mothers leg, “Not if he knows what’s good for him Rose. Never mind, just keep pouring will ya?”
“So,” said Grandma, facing Brooke, “How’s the bride to be holding up?”
 “Oh, I’m just fine thanks, actually I am overwhelmed with the fantastic job mum has done making my dream gown, it’s magnificent.”
 “Does Grandma get a sneak peek too?” she asked cheekily. 
“Sorry grandma, no can do,” replied Brooke “You will have to wait until tomorrow like everybody else!”
 “Oh drats,” said grandma as she snapped her fingers and stomped her foot on the floor like a two year old throwing a tantrum. 
“Now mum, there would be no surprise for you tomorrow if you see all the goodies tonight.” 
“Maybe so, but it doesn’t hurt to try and slip a quick viewing in now anyway, does it?” replied grandma.
Brooke stood up and raised her arms above her head, yawning “Anyway you two, it’s time for me to get some rest, in another sixteen hours I will be Mrs Stevens and I want to look my best for the occasion. So if you don’t mind, I’m off to bed.” They both gazed up at her and said their goodnights in turn.
 “Sweet dreams,” yelled grandma as she was half way up the stairs “Don’t let the bed bugs bite.”
 She crawled into bed and pulled the covers over the top of her, then snuggled down into the softness of the mattress and amazingly, fell right off to sleep. 
“Brooke, Brooke,” her mother stood over the top of her, shaking her gently. “It’s ten past eight love, time to get up. The hair and make-up lady will be here in half an hour, you better get a wriggle on.” 
As though she had just been hit with a cattle prod, she flew out of bed and ran screaming into the shower, “Have you got my dress and shoes?”
 “Yes dear.” 
“What about my jewellery and,” her voice was drowned out by the noise of the shower spray. 
Rose sat on the bed quietly, smiling to herself and then whispered “This reminds me of my wedding day.” She gathered Brooke’s shoes, wedding gown, jewellery and personal effects and placed them neatly at the foot of her bed. 
Tearing out of the shower, wearing nothing but a towel, Brooke ran head on into her mother. “This is so unnerving, I can’t believe it is actually happening. And today!” 
“Do you want some breakfast?”
 “Are you kidding, how could you possibly expect me to eat, I am getting married today.”
 Rose let out a giggle and said, “I couldn’t eat on my wedding day either, you had better brush your teeth now, before you get your make-up done. It’s easier, trust me.” 
Brooke did as her mother suggested and then threw on some loose clothes and sat on her bed awaiting the stylist.
 “How about a coffee love?”
 Her nerves now practically frayed, Brooke nodded her head and looked at her mum, silently pleading with her to understand how mute her anxiety was making her. Rose simply gave her a reassuring pat on the head and went to fetch a cup of coffee.
At half past eight the stylist arrived and got straight down to business. First the make-up and then the hair. After two hours of perfectly executed sweeps of colour, a dozen bottles of various lotions and potions and nearly an entire can of hairspray, she was complete. 
“Can I look?” asked Brooke. 
“Oh not yet, just one more little touch and we’re done for good. Rose would you please pass me the tiara?” 
The pearl and diamante tiara flashed before Brookes eyes and was raised above her head and secured in the perfect position with a million bobby pins and yet more hairspray to tame any stray hairs that may hang over it. The stylist gave her masterpiece one last inspection before turning Brooke’s chair around to face the mirror on the duchess. “Pure elegance,” she complimented herself.
With a cry of awe, Brooke jumped up and hugged the stylist “My gosh, it’s fantastic, everything I had hoped for. Thank you Tracey, thank you.” 
She then turned to face her mother who was holding onto her gown, “It’s time love,” she gently encouraged her, spreading the opening of the dress out for her to step into.
 Her heart suddenly jumped into her mouth, “What if,”
 “What if what dear?” her mother asked.
 “What if daddy doesn’t like my gown either?” Rose sucked her breath in deeply and then firmly said,
 “Your father may not like quite a few things today love, but rest assured he will adore you and your gown.” 
Those must have been the magic words, because she slowly moved forward and allowed her mother to adorn her with the gorgeous ivory satin dress.
“Rose, Brooke,” her father’s voice echoed from downstairs. “Are you ready yet, it’s time to roll. We’ve only got forty minutes.”
 Neither woman could move, they were paralysed to the spot unable to come to grips with the fact that the wedding was less than an hour away.
 “Brooke,” her father stumbled through her door and nearly fell over himself when he laid eyes on her. “You look, you look,” he held out his arms and hugged her tightly for the last time as his little girl. “Enchanting,” he finally managed after their embrace. “Now let’s move or we’ll never get you married!”
 “Rose, Tom is waiting downstairs to take you and grandma. We’ll be right behind you,’ he gave her a quick peck on the forehead and held out his arm to Brooke, “Shall we?”
Her father sat beside her in the limousine, biting his nails down to the qwik the entire journey. 
“Daddy, you know I love you and I never want to disappoint you?”
 “Yes Princess, of course I know that, why?”
 “Well, I just need to know that you are proud of me today and not upset over the choices I made, that’s all.” 
His eyes fell to the floor and then rose up settling directly on hers. “Brooke, I have never been prouder of you than I am at this very moment. Regardless of the trouble I have caused with my strenuous objections to this and that, I know you are doing what you want to do… and I admire you for it. I love you sweet.”  He kissed her on the hand and then held it tightly for the remainder of the journey.
After what seemed to be an eternity in the car, they finally pulled up in the circular drive of the botanic gardens. She could see the hundreds of guests all hovering around the aisle where she would soon be walking, for an instant she felt like she would be sick but the feeling was over ridden by excitement and then exhilaration. Her father stepped out of the car and approached her door, as it swung open she took her fathers hand and stepped outside in plain view of the anxious guests and the man she was about to marry. She could see his jaw fall open as he stared at her in amazement, a broad smile swept across her face and there was nothing that could wipe it away.
Taking her fathers hand, she floated down the aisle as gracefully as a swan wading on water. In her mind, her childhood fantasies faded into obscurity, this was so much more than she had ever imagined when she was ten. With a final kiss on the hand, her father placed her hand in that of her future husbands and stood back. 
“Do you Mr Matthews, give your daughter away in marriage today?” the pastor asked as the crowds hushed. 
“Yes, I certainly do.” 
The ceremony continued, 
“Do you Brooke Leanne Matthews take Aiden Michael Stevens to be your lawfully wedded husband?” 
Brooke leaned back and gazed momentarily at her father, she knew how much he had desperately wanted her to marry Grant. He nodded his head proudly and gave her the thumbs up sign with both hands, the smile on his face running from ear to ear. Turning back to Aiden she squeezed his hand tightly and as loudly as she could, replied “I do!” 
###THE END##
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