"Since we're having a real wedding now," piped up Timothy from his place, comfortably propped on the couch, "don't you need bridesmaids, Auntie Shelagh?"
Shelagh and Patrick had looked up at Timothy's first words, he from the latest copy of the Lancet and she from the abandoned puzzle that Timothy had started that morning. Shelagh's cheeks pinked, "I'm not sure, wherever did you get that idea, Timothy?"
"We-ll", he reasoned, "Akela had bridesmaids at hers and the girls at school said you had to have them. They wanted to know who you were having."
Patrick chuckled, "Since when do you talk to the girls at school?"
It was Timothy's turn to blush before replying lightly, "They've been quite nice, actually, thank you, Dad."
Their real wedding, as Timothy was fond of calling it, had all come about rather suddenly. One late afternoon, Patrick had come breezing through the ward doors making them swing and earning him a scowl from the Matron. "Dr. Turner, please do be more cautious," she chastened. He winked devilishly at Timothy and Shelagh and called out, "My apologies, Matron" as he leaned over to ruffle Timothy's hair and lay a soft kiss on Shelagh's cheek. Plunking himself on the end of Timothy's bed, he looked at them with a gleam in his eye.
"You know, Tim, the doctor says that we get to take you home in the next couple of days since you're doing so well with your calipers. I just had a brilliant idea this very afternoon," he paused, looking at them both, pleased as punch, "let's have a wedding!"
"Dad…a wedding? Of course we're going to have a wedding; you and Auntie Shelagh promised that you'd still get married. What's so brilliant about this idea?"
Patrick leaned forward to take Shelagh's hand in his and looked back at Timothy. "I was just thinking, on my walk over here, that I'm so grateful that you are doing better and so pleased that Auntie Shelagh hasn't gotten tired of me yet, that I think that we should have a proper do."
He turned and caught Shelagh's eyes which sparkled behind her glasses. She raised her eyebrows at him and smiled. "Is this 'Westminster Abbey and the Ritz'?"
Patrick grinned, "Yes, this is 'Westminster Abbey and the Ritz'." The grin widened. "Well, I was thinking more the church and the church hall. I was hoping to entreat Mrs. B. to whip up a cake and I still remember a punch recipe that was always a hit at the hospital Christmas parties. We could invite the sisters, the nurses, Fred, I'm sure my cousin David would come over from Halifax. You have your dress and I bet our suits are still just fine. And, my bride-to-be," he finished expansively, "I am taking you on a honeymoon."
"Oh Patrick," Shelagh blushed furiously now, "Are you sure?"
"I am. One hundred percent, without a doubt. I am convinced that this is one of my best ideas yet."
"But what'll happen to me, Dad?"
"We're not throwing you into the orphans' home, Tim. Why don't we see if Jack's mum and dad wouldn't mind you staying over there? It would just be for a couple of nights. Well, what do you think, you two? A wedding, a party, and a honeymoon. Does that fit the bill?"
He felt her squeeze his hand gently, "That would be just lovely, Patrick."
"Count me in too, Dad."
And thus their planning began. Timothy returned home, pale and easily tired but thrilled to start school again. Patrick went back to his regular rounds with the addition of being responsible for answering his patient's many questions about their upcoming nuptials. Shelagh quietly went back to town one late morning and came home to her lodgings with a significantly larger pink box and several other parcels. Things hummed right along until Timothy asked about bridesmaids.
Patrick came back downstairs that night to find Shelagh staring at the rug and absentmindedly fiddling with her hands. He sat down next to her and took hold of her fidgety hands. "You don't have to have bridesmaids, you know. It is totally up to you. This is our wedding and you may do as you wish, no matter what the 'girls at school' say."
They sat in the quiet and she looked down and watched her engagement ring catch in the lamplight. "I know," she sighed. The clock in the corner ticked away comfortingly and they sat in silence again until she suddenly looked up at him, "but I want some. It seems so silly but I do."
Patrick released the breath he had been holding and they both laughed in relief at her admission. He had been worried, Shelagh had been quiet after Timothy had asked the question this evening but now he laughed again and kissed her on the cheek. And on the nose. And slowly, tantalizingly, on the corner of her mouth. And even more slowly on her lips. After a breathless, crackling moment, she pulled away to meet his eyes.
"Patrick Turner," she said sternly, "you best behave yourself; you're going to be a married man soon."
"Thank goodness!"