Rosalind
This story and all themes and ideas contained in said story are the sole
ownership of J.L. Scott. Any copyright infringements can be prosecuted in a
court of law.
To borrow a phrase: NYPD Blue no mine......no permission..no money, no sue, please?
It was beautiful. So said every guest.
"Just, calm down" Andy slapped him on the back. He tugged at his neck tie. He smoothed out his green vest. He took a deep breath and shook his hands.
"Hey, Andy......."
"Yeah, I know" Andy said, "You're welcome" Andy was his best man. He hadn't known who else to ask. Andrew and Paul, Grace's brothers, were his other groomsmen. He hadn't had anyone else to ask and they were the only two who didn't have a part to play in the wedding. Both Peter and John were officiating, Mathew, Mark and Luke were doing the music (though they insisted on setting up in the sanctuary instead of the balcony so they could see everything) and Patrick and Michael were doing the readings. They were all in black tuxes with green vests, except her dad who was in plum (as she insisted it was not merely purple). She had surprised him by asking Connie to be one of her bridesmaids, along with one of her cousins and her secretary, Laney and Jenna, both of whom John had met long ago as they were her best friends.
So now, tiger lilies and wisteria in place, four tier cake set up, and the DJ testing his mikes down the road at the reception hall, John paced in the back room, waiting for the clock to move it hands to the six. Somewhere out there, Grace was fluffing out a huge white skirt, handing Rosalind her flowers, and making sure she had something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue. He paced back and forth, trying to wear a hole in the carpeting.
" 'ey, boyo, get out 'ere" Peter stuck his head in and jerked it towards the sanctuary. John was hoping he'd be able to understand what the man would be saying, considering his accent had doubled, at least. In fact, all of Grace's brother's accents seemed to have thickened. John wondered if they could possibly be as nervous as he. He very much doubted it.
Peter had to direct him to his place, Andy, Paul and Andrew taking their places behind him. He found it was a little hard to breath and his heart was bouncing up and down in his chest. He hissed out a deep breath and turned toward the back of the church when the music started. It was an Irish tune, low and kind of mournful sounding to John, but it was what she had wanted. The bridesmaid's filed in and took their places, all looking very nice in their plum colored dresses. Then the bagpipes started and everybody stood up. John felt like bolting. The only thing keeping him in place was the firm hold of Andy's hand on his arm. He swallowed hard and waited.
Rosalind came first. She was adorable in her specially made green and plum plaid dress, spreading multicolored rose petals on the carpeted aisle. She gave him a happy little smile and he grinned back at her, hoping she couldn't tell how nervous he was really feeling. He turned his attention back to the end of the aisle and stopped breathing completely.
She was on her father's arm, looking very small and delicate next to the giant. Her wonderful red hair was half piled on her head, half hanging down her back. The veil was a simple piece of material with some lace work around the edges, held on to her head with two little opal studded combs that looked like they had been in the family for eons. Her dress exposed her delicate shoulders just a bit, and then fell into bell sleeves that only went to her elbows. The neckline was cut in a diamond shape but didn't cut down too far. John was wondering how she'd be able to walk in the huge skirt that, for all he knew, had a hoop underneath.
But what she was wearing only briefly passed through his mind because his eyes had come to rest on her face, alight with a smile that went from one perfect ear to the other perfect ear. Her crystal green eyes looked like emeralds and if her cheeks were just a little flushed it only enhanced her beauty.
He wasn't nervous anymore. There was absolutely nothing to be nervous about. He was doing the right thing, and he'd never regret it a day in his life. He could see the same feeling in her eyes, in her smile. It all seemed perfectly natural, and he wondered how he'd ever even lived without her as his wife.
And then she was there beside him, and her father was putting her hand in his. They both turned to her older brother, who was going to tie them together forever and eternity, both immersed in the complete paradise of their love.
To borrow a phrase: NYPD Blue no mine......no permission..no money, no sue, please?
It was beautiful. So said every guest.
"Just, calm down" Andy slapped him on the back. He tugged at his neck tie. He smoothed out his green vest. He took a deep breath and shook his hands.
"Hey, Andy......."
"Yeah, I know" Andy said, "You're welcome" Andy was his best man. He hadn't known who else to ask. Andrew and Paul, Grace's brothers, were his other groomsmen. He hadn't had anyone else to ask and they were the only two who didn't have a part to play in the wedding. Both Peter and John were officiating, Mathew, Mark and Luke were doing the music (though they insisted on setting up in the sanctuary instead of the balcony so they could see everything) and Patrick and Michael were doing the readings. They were all in black tuxes with green vests, except her dad who was in plum (as she insisted it was not merely purple). She had surprised him by asking Connie to be one of her bridesmaids, along with one of her cousins and her secretary, Laney and Jenna, both of whom John had met long ago as they were her best friends.
So now, tiger lilies and wisteria in place, four tier cake set up, and the DJ testing his mikes down the road at the reception hall, John paced in the back room, waiting for the clock to move it hands to the six. Somewhere out there, Grace was fluffing out a huge white skirt, handing Rosalind her flowers, and making sure she had something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue. He paced back and forth, trying to wear a hole in the carpeting.
" 'ey, boyo, get out 'ere" Peter stuck his head in and jerked it towards the sanctuary. John was hoping he'd be able to understand what the man would be saying, considering his accent had doubled, at least. In fact, all of Grace's brother's accents seemed to have thickened. John wondered if they could possibly be as nervous as he. He very much doubted it.
Peter had to direct him to his place, Andy, Paul and Andrew taking their places behind him. He found it was a little hard to breath and his heart was bouncing up and down in his chest. He hissed out a deep breath and turned toward the back of the church when the music started. It was an Irish tune, low and kind of mournful sounding to John, but it was what she had wanted. The bridesmaid's filed in and took their places, all looking very nice in their plum colored dresses. Then the bagpipes started and everybody stood up. John felt like bolting. The only thing keeping him in place was the firm hold of Andy's hand on his arm. He swallowed hard and waited.
Rosalind came first. She was adorable in her specially made green and plum plaid dress, spreading multicolored rose petals on the carpeted aisle. She gave him a happy little smile and he grinned back at her, hoping she couldn't tell how nervous he was really feeling. He turned his attention back to the end of the aisle and stopped breathing completely.
She was on her father's arm, looking very small and delicate next to the giant. Her wonderful red hair was half piled on her head, half hanging down her back. The veil was a simple piece of material with some lace work around the edges, held on to her head with two little opal studded combs that looked like they had been in the family for eons. Her dress exposed her delicate shoulders just a bit, and then fell into bell sleeves that only went to her elbows. The neckline was cut in a diamond shape but didn't cut down too far. John was wondering how she'd be able to walk in the huge skirt that, for all he knew, had a hoop underneath.
But what she was wearing only briefly passed through his mind because his eyes had come to rest on her face, alight with a smile that went from one perfect ear to the other perfect ear. Her crystal green eyes looked like emeralds and if her cheeks were just a little flushed it only enhanced her beauty.
He wasn't nervous anymore. There was absolutely nothing to be nervous about. He was doing the right thing, and he'd never regret it a day in his life. He could see the same feeling in her eyes, in her smile. It all seemed perfectly natural, and he wondered how he'd ever even lived without her as his wife.
And then she was there beside him, and her father was putting her hand in his. They both turned to her older brother, who was going to tie them together forever and eternity, both immersed in the complete paradise of their love.