Three Weddings and a Funeral

June 11, 1955

"Arrgh! How could I have forgotten that?" Margaret screeched as Hawkeye made a quick exit from the room in the hopes of sparing his eardrums.

"The woman seems a mite stressed," Potter noted as Hawkeye joined him in the hallway.

Hawkeye nodded. "You could say that. She just realized she doesn't have something borrowed."

Potter raised an eyebrow.

"You know," Hawkeye said, "as in, something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. Apparently she's a real stickler for the tradition."

"Well hell," Potter said, "she can borrow something from Mildred. What does she need, some kind of girlie thing?"

Hawkeye shrugged, "I think it can be anything, just so long as it's borrowed. But what do I know?"

Potter held up a finger as he walked away. "Tell Margaret to cool her jets for a minute. I'll get something from Mildred that oughtta fit the bill."

Hawkeye prepared to step back into the room where Margaret was finishing up her preparations, wincing in anticipation of the continued shrieking. He opened the door cautiously, only to discover that—amazingly—the former major was considerably calmer now. "Margaret," he said, putting on a bright smile, "how are we doing?"

"I'm fine, Pierce. Just fine," she assured him, her voice actually on the soft side.

The hell of it was, she did look fine. Maybe Charles had slipped her a sedative or something in the last few minutes.

Speaking of Charles, he was rubbing her shoulder soothingly, doing a surprisingly good job of playing the role of supportive friend. "She's fine," he echoed.

Hawkeye looked from him back to her, more than a little mystified by the mood swings of the soon-to-be wed. "Col. Potter is getting you something borrowed from his wife. That'll do… right?"

Margaret's face brightened at this news. "Yes! That will be wonderful! Thank you!" She turned to look in the mirror and take another visual inventory. "All right, then. Something old… my dog tags, underneath the dress. Something new… well, the wedding dress is new, that counts, right? Something borrowed… whatever Col. Potter gets from his wife. And something blue… well…" She gave them both the evil eye. "Never you mind what that might be!"

Charles and Hawkeye put their hands up in "surrender" gesture. "We wouldn't even dare to speculate," Charles deadpanned.

A knock on the door was followed by Col. Potter's voice, in a bit of a sing-song, "Margaret, can I come in? I've got something borrowed for you."

"Of course, of course!"

Hawkeye opened the door and Potter entered, holding up a delicate and elegant silver bracelet. Margaret ooohed and ahhhed and accepted the bracelet with a teary-eyed, "Thank you, Colonel!" She put it on and admired it, turning her wrist this way and that. Then it was back to the mirror for a final analysis. Apparently pleased and as ready as she'd ever be, she did a pirouette as Hawkeye, Charles, and Potter applauded.

"You look radiant, Margaret," Charles said.

"Just as sparkling as a dew-covered leaf on a bright May morning!" Potter exclaimed.

Hawkeye tilted his head, reaching out. "Perfect, Margaret," he said, and embraced her.

After a moment, she stepped out of his arms and clapped her hands once. "Gentlemen, you have all been very helpful—thank you so much. But now you have to shoo! I need a few minutes to myself before the ceremony."

Without another word, the three of them obediently filed out of the room and took their seats.

"Did she have a meltdown?" B.J. whispered to Hawkeye as Peg rolled her eyes.

"A small one… considering it's Margaret we're talking about. She seems very tranquil now."

"You two just don't understand!" Peg said. "It's the biggest day of her life. She's entitled to a little melodrama."

B.J. smirked. "But she's already been married once. This is old hat to her by now."

Peg swatted him and Hawkeye stifled a laugh.

Charles, one row behind, leaned forward and whispered, "I trust her bridegroom has a firm grasp of the type of… spitfire he's marrying?"

Hawkeye turned. "Kevin's a great guy. Patient and considerate. Treats her like gold. She's got a winner this time." Then, glancing at B.J., "We should've known about Penobscot, Beej. Man could not hold his liquor."

B.J. shrugged. "Seemed like good stock. He was 227th in a class of 396."

That made both of them burst into laughter, and Potter, seated between Charles and Mildred in the row behind them, scolded, "That's enough, Hunnicutt… Pierce."

Peg turned to look at him gratefully. "I'll never know how you managed to handle these two, Sherman. When they're together…" She let the thought trail off, but her eyes rolled once again.

"Like a couple of unbroken colts," Potter muttered, and perhaps he would have elaborated, but that was when the organist launched into "Here Comes the Bride." Everyone stood in unison and turned to watch Margaret's entrance.

Clearly over her pre-wedding agitation, Margaret wore a beatific smile as she took her slow stroll down the aisle, accompanied by her father. Hawkeye couldn't help it... he teared up. Even though he'd watched her get married before, seeing her this happy, this luminous, did his heart good. She deserved to finally settle down with Mr. Right and have her 2.5 children. It was what she'd wanted for so long, and now that her career had stabilized, now that she was fulfilled in that respect, it was time for her to share her life—her victories and her failures —with a mate.

As she walked past Hawkeye, she winked at him with a knowing smile, and he winked back. Then she turned her full attention to Kevin, her groom, who was awaiting her arrival with an expression of clear adoration on his face.

Way to go, Margaret, Hawkeye thought, remembering a long-ago conversation over Scrabble and beers in the O Club. You found your custom fit in this off-the-rack world.

He chuckled to himself. Even if it did take a hell of a lot of shopping around.