Title: Not Today
Author: Darley1101
Rating: T
Premise: Alex's father shows up at his wedding.
Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy or the characters
Trembling fingers clutched a cream colored linen invitation. Embossed with 14 karat gold it was the man's assurance that he would be admitted. Self conscientiously, the fifty-two year old man crept toward the pair of men standing at the entrance of Seattle's Fairmont Olympic Hotel. The contempt in their eyes, the way they looked over his no longer white dress shirt and slightly wrinkled khaki slacks told him what he already knew: he didn't belong.
"I have an invitation," he said defensively. The younger of the two men standing before him glanced uncertainly at the other. The man held out the invitation, then fumbled for his wallet and driver's license to prove he was the proper recipient. With some reluctance, the younger man nodded his head, and then opened the door for him. "Thank you," the man mumbled gruffly.
Taking a deep breath, he stepped inside. It was like stepping into another world. Gilt and ivory covered every square inch of the marble wonder before him. Every so often the beautiful monotony was broken up by large floral pieces that consisted of nothing but blood red roses.
"Bride or groom?" A crisp voice asked. Blinking the man looked to his left. A beautiful Asian woman stood there, her face a cool mask of nothing. The form fitting knee, length gown she wore was the exact color of the roses; it was as though someone had plucked a petal and dyed the satin fabric to match. "Bride or groom?" she repeated.
"Groom," he said hoarsely. She nodded, and then led him to the section of seating on the right side. When she asked if he wanted a seat toward the front or back he requested the last row. He had been tempted to ask for a closer seat, until he seen his ex-wife. She had proudly been sitting in the front row, wearing a rose colored dress that was made of some sort of floating material. Next to her had been his daughter. She had looked just as lovely as her mother, her dark hair pulled up in a French twist and her pale skin set off by a red dress that was similar to the one worn by the woman who had seated him. They wouldn't want to see him, and he loved them enough to honor that.
He didn't know how long he sat there, watching people be seated around him, purposely keeping his gaze from the front, where his son stood, before the music announcing the bride's entrance. Along with the rest of the guests, he rose when she started her walk down the cream satin runner that led up to the groom and minister. His breath caught in his chest when he laid eyes on the woman who had chipped through his son's walls. She was beautiful, like an angel.
Reluctantly, as his view was partially blocked by the fancy hat worn by a woman he recognized as his own Aunt Phyllis. If it wasn't for his fear of being recognized and causing a scene, he would have asked her to remove it. He shifted, trying to peer around the large confection of pink tulle and white flowers. He couldn't be positive, but he was fairly certain it was the same hat she had worn to his wedding so many years ago.
"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to unite this man, Alexander Michael Karev, and this woman Isobel Katherine Stevens, in holy matrimony." The minister's booming voice seemed to echo throughout the ball room, needing no help from the P.A. system.
The man felt a lump forming in his throat. He had so few memories of his time with Alex. One memory that stood out was the day his son had been born. He had only been seventeen at the time, a high school drop out who had wanted nothing more in life than to move his band beyond the garage phase. His girlfriend, she had yet to become his wife, had picked the name Peter. He hadn't cared for the name, choosing instead to name his small son after his favorite history icon, Alexander the Great. He wanted great things for that tiny baby, greater things than he himself had or would ever have. His son had achieved that. His son had achieved greatness, and he wished he could say he had been part of it.
The lump stayed with him through the rest of the ceremony, threatening to cut off his air supply. When the bride and groom walked down the aisle for the first time as husband and wife, he ducked his head, making certain that Alex didn't see him. Staying out of his son's life was the only gift he had to give him. His sobriety sponsor disagreed, saying that Alex had sent him a wedding invitation and that had to mean his son was open to communication. He disagreed. Alex hadn't sent the invitation. Isobel had. Isobel, his new daughter by marriage. Isobel, whom he loved already but would never get to know. Perhaps one day they would get to know one another, but today was not that day. The man waited for the throng to clear, then walked out the way he had come.