As their elder sister drove them, Terry idly watched the passing landscapes from the window, while Terri chattered away, their sister rarely glancing at them, for she was keeping her eyes on the horizon of the freeway before her.
The return to Roarington felt like a obligatory vacation rather than a homecoming, as they temporarily traded away the comforts of the Oozma Kappa household for the nostalgia of childhood familiarity.
Days before their trip back to Monstropolis, Terri asked Terry to do the speechwriting to accommodate for the both of them.
"Can't we just have it out when we give the speech?"
"Oh, c'mon, memorizing can't hurt. You can memorize dance steps, choreographies, Scare tactics, and Mike's routines. So memorize this."
With Terri clutching Terry's writing, they rehearsed their speech in front of the mirror for hours, all while thinking of its inevitable revision.
When we first encountered Don, he was just this miscellaneous guy alongside another miscellaneous guy, Squishy, trying to recruit for Oozma Kappa. He might as well been just a passing face on campus.
When trying to recruit us, he said, "come for the quality housing arrangement. Stay for the fun." The prospect of having him as our fraternity brother was an afterthought at the time. We signed up for Greek Life and quality housing, a fair incentive. We got the quality housing, but the friends, were the best part of the deal. And boy, did Don deliver.
We have known Don only for over a year. But for us, so much meaning has been contained in those months we were friends. We are three decades apart from each other, but Don reached out for us across the generational gap and befriended us. Since then, we studied, laugh, survived college together.
When Don and Ms. Squibbles reported their engagement, we thought, well, just about time. What made the match even more evident was that Ms. Squibbles, oh, I mean Mrs. Squibbles, has been a second mom to us, always spoiling us with her cooking and treats, while Don was our father figure. I recall that a few months ago, we walked in on a heartwarming moment between you two. We can never get the image of you two on the porch, just a few months ago, soaking wet after walking in the storm. You looked upset, Don. You were in her arms. What ever happened was between you, but that was the sure sign you were meant for each other.
We think of Dad's old saying there is this is a magic to marriage. Magicians can explain magic if they wanted to, but they can't explain love. All Dad knows is that marriage brings a lifetime of heaven to look forward to.
To the joys ahead of you.
During the speech, Terry was the first to spy their mother in the mirror, a figure at their doorway, her smile bright but weary, perhaps having stood there for an undisclosed amount of time.
Terri took notice of her too, but much later, but the boys finished the rehearsal run because they sensed that Mom had waited for them to finish a practice run before speaking with them.
As they stood from the table, Terri gulped and Terry rose his glass.
"Hello, I'm Terry."
Terri rose his glass. "And I'm Terri... with an 'i.'"
Terry went first. "When we and Don first met, he was Mr. Carlton to us. He could have been a just a passing face on campus. He was just this guy alongside Squishy trying to recruit into their fraternity. He said, 'come for the cheap housing arrangement. Stay for the fun.'"
Suddenly, Terri tossed in an ad-lib in a poorly-attempted Midwestern accent, in a comical but affectionate imitation of what he remembered of Don's words. "So ya' joined for da' swell housing deal, but I guarantee that yer stay for da' fun!" He even swung his fists in an identical motion Don often did, earning a barrage of kneeslap laughter from the table that contained Don's old co-workers.
When he felt the laughter dying down, Terry continued, "The prospect of having Don as our frat brother was an afterthought at the time. We signed for the housing deal and the Greek Life, perhaps something to put on our resume. We got our quality housing and our Greek Life. But the friends, Don, were the best part of the deal. In the span of one and half year, ahem, three semesters, we became close buds. So we have not quite grown up with him for a long time. He must have had friends who knew him for decades." He gestured toward the table of Don's friends, who seemed to take pride in this indirect acknowledgement.
Terri's turn. "And boy, did Don deliver. Satisfaction guaranteed!"
Terry's turn. "We studied together. We endured fraternity games together. We laughed together. We cried together."
"Danced together!" Terri shouted. Laughter ensued.
"Don. Used to call him Mr. Carlton. But having grown to know him, he's Don to us."
"First-name basis, please!" Terri emulated that accent again, earning chuckles from Don's pals.
Terry went on, "Relationships are about constant evolution into better beings. Whenever a chick flick ends, it likes to end with a couple getting together. But there is more beyond the getting together. So much to do together. So much joys and wonders ahead of you. The marriage, this wedding, is the milestone. The relationship is the journey beyond that milestone."
Terri exclaimed, "It's pure magic!"
"Our mom once told us that the marriage will come with tribulations. But no worries. You won't cause the tribulations, you'll endure them together."
Terry had semi-planned to elaborate on their mother's influence, but his pause lasted a few seconds enough to produce a noticeable lull in the speech, so Terri had to jump in and add, "When we heard the announcement of the engagement, we thought, well, just about time. Now Don, now Sheri, don't think we didn't notice your staring across the kitchen table. Don't think that just because you had alone talks in the living room, we didn't know about it. It was just about time!"
Terry drove on, "And being that we will live under the same roof as yours for a few more semesters, I look forward to seeing that relationship grow beyond what it already is." And the minute the temptation came up, he said this: "Of course, just to assure the bride and groom, we're not going to see all the details." And he gave a prolonged blink, the "winking" language of a Cyclops.
But it was within a milliseconds after the humorous quip, Terry wondered if it was appropriate. It did earn some laughs - the bride stifled a giggle - though Scott bit his lips.
But what made the ad-lib regretful was that now the flushing groom tugged at his emerald-green bow tie and collar, as if he had just realized it suffocated him. Terry noticed how the bride cut her giggle short and stroked his hand to inconspicuously console whatever distress wandered in his head. There were things better left privately to the bride and groom.
He had the impulse to wrap this up.
"To the joys ahead of you."
The groom reverted back to all smiles as his palms twined in his bride's clasp.
"To Don! To the happiness ahead of you! To Sheri. To the happiness ahead of you!"
"To your spirit! To your love! To your commitment!" Terry added.
With that last line, Terry thought he achieved a suitable finale, but then he noticed Scott, alert, but quite sheepish, eyes down at his blank plate.
So Terry had the urge to improvise one last bit.
"Squishy... Scott."
Squishy perked up, flushing, frightened at the sudden acknowledgement. But it was too late to withdraw it and spare Squishy. "This is your day too." Terri looked perplexed, having not rehearsed a part about Squishy, but glad to include the guy anyway.
"You just got a great dad today. He's a dad to us too as well as a brother." But halfway out of his lips, Terry wondered if it was right to spring up old uncomfortable matters to Squishy.
Terri came, somewhat, to his rescue, "Yes, odd sounding, but that doubles the benefits of the relationship, heh heh. To the happiness ahead of you, Squishy, pal!"
And Squishy did manage a smile. For their sake? To assure them that he knew they meant well? Or genuinely happy at the aforementioned prospect? After all, he probably still harbored mixed feelings about the union of Don and his mother. Terry wondered if he should have risked that improvised finale.
Terri had the last word of their speech. "Now, to stop hogging the speechmaking and pass it on to the rest of the best men."
As they sunk down to their seat, Terry's hands reached to Terri's hands to join in the applause, their singular heart still pounding, doubled by their mutual trepidation of post-speechgiving.