Neither of us stand on ceremony, so the whole affair fit us well. It took place in the back room of a restaurant in Hillsboro Village, and the act itself was over in a minute or less. My mother-in-law was the witness, and after making sure we were serious about the deal, the judge signed off on it.
"Well, you're married."
"Did we miss it?" my father asked. He and my brother had been at the far end of the room getting their beers.
The dinner was delicious (one of the reasons we'd selected that location). Maggie and I took time to circulate between courses, admiring Amy H.'s makeshift wedding band and comforting Jac, on whose shirt a waiter had spilled a glass of water.
It came time for the toasts. It took me, then an adamant teetotaler, several minutes to convince Kim that I would not indeed make an exception for a taste of champagne. Soon after that we bucked tradition again, refusing to rub each others' noses in the cheesecake.
Our insistence that we had the room for another two hours (and that there was plenty left to drink) was the cue, apparently, for everyone to go. Roger was the last to leave: he lingered for some time talking to my mother about the D.C. superheroes' universe.
Soon after Roger had gone, we took our leave. A man in the bar across the street leaned out the window. "Did you two just get married?" We said yes. "Come on over, I'll buy you a round!" We politely declined, and headed home.
Before long, we were asleep.
I enjoy so much reading those stories. I'm thinking a lot about the concept of marriage lately. All I know is that I don't want a big ceremony. This kind of wedding could suite me maybe, though I wouldn't want to go to bed that soon...
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