Generosity

Mummers abounded, in the sea of special guests, as the wedding planner's staff rushed to fill every request. The chapel quickly filled. Everyone smiled and chatted, eager for the nuptials so many had waited so long to see. Glancing at the double doors, at the back of the chapel, speculation spread as to the start of the ceremony.

Then, in the distance, a harp began to play.

In response, the congregation turned to face the alter. The room buzzed with excitement as Dick Grayson entered the room. Stopping at the alter, he picked up a box of matchsticks and proceeded to light two candles. Leaving them to burn steadily, he walked over to his seat in the front row and sat down.

Next, James Bruce Grayson walked in, followed by his best man, Rex Stewart. Now, a hush filled the room. Staring at the nervous young man standing before them, they all waited for the next actor to enter the stage.

At the back of the chapel, behind the high double doors, stood Bruce and Clark. Facing the doors, they glanced at each other, savoring memories of their own wedding. They heard the muffled voices from the chapel and started to fidget. Bruce looked at his watch. Repeatedly. Clark tugged at his collar and adjusted his tie. Shifting from foot to foot, Bruce couldn't quite suppress a hitch as he placed weight on his left knee.

"How's your knee doing?" asked Clark as he glanced over at Bruce.

"Hmm..."

"I could get you some aspirin."

"It'll do what it needs to do."

"Okay," replied Clark as he rocked back on his heels and clapped his hands once. Rubbing his hands together, he said, "Y'know, it might be time to start looking into a cane."

" I don't need a cane. Old men need canes."

"Don't be like that. It doesn't have to be some crotchety old wooden stick. It could be cool looking. I could be made of black marble and topped with a brushed nickel grip."

"You've done some shopping already, I see."

"Just to get a feel for what's out there."

"Of course," Bruce added, with just a hint of sarcasm. Checking his watch again, he asked, "Can we table this conversation until after the wedding?"

"Just say you'll think about it."

"Fine. I'm sure a cane is in my future. I might as well stop fighting it. You'll only manage to convince me to get one just like you persuaded me to set the cape aside all those years ago. Once you get an idea in your head, it's impossible to get away from it; no matter how hard I try. Just like that country duck theme you convinced me to use during the last kitchen remodel."

"Are you still going on about that? I mean really, Bruce. It was three years ago. Besides, it's a white goose wearing a blue bonnet. What could be better than that?"

For a moment, Bruce glared at him, but says nothing. With a smile, he shakes his head slowly as he sighs, "I can't believe this day is finally here."

"Yeah, I'm just glad the weather held up. It was starting to look like rain earlier."

"I could care less if it rained or not. I'm just happy we finally managed to have a wedding in this family without one of the participants being pregnant."

"Are you trying to say you only married me because you knocked me up?"

Turning to face his husband, Bruce met Clark's eyes and replied, "I'm sorry, Clark, but not even twenty-five years of marriage can make that statement sound right."

In lieu of a quick response, Clark laughed lightly and shook his head. Opening his mouth, he was about to shoot back a well thought out retort when a voice called out to them.

"Pa? Dad?"

Together, they turned toward the voice. Expecting a little girl, they found a vision of loveliness, a woman clad all in white. Her veil was still thrown back, forming a silky haze framing her heart shaped face. Her icy-blue eyes glistened as she clutched her bouquet tightly.

Beside her, Barbara busied herself with last minute details. She smoothed out silk sleeves. She picked at a minuscule speck of fluff on the bodice. She ghosted a hand over the French bun holding back Marty's unruly curls. Hearing the harpist start a new song, she whispered, "That's my cue! I've got to go sit down now, honey. Do you need anything before I go?"

Looking at her fathers, Marty shook her head.

"No, Barbara. I think we've got it covered."

With that said, Bruce and Clark stepped away from the doors. Two ushers stepped forward and opened the doors just enough to let Barbara start her measured walk down the aisle.

Back inside the foyer, Bruce rushed to his daughter's side. Taking hold of the bouquet in her hands, he managed to pull the twisted stems from her grasp before she could rip the arrangement apart. Quickly, Clark took her by both hands. Gripping his hands with all her strength, she bounced up and down on the balls of her feet. A shrill squeal escaped her as her movements accelerated. Finally, she sighed loudly as she pulled her hands away and rested her heels on the floor.

"Thank you. Oh, thank you. I needed that so badly."

Reaching for her bouquet, she frowned at the twisted stems. Before her lips could form a pout, Bruce took her hand and wrapped it around the damage. Letting go of the flowers, he took her other hand and placed it over the first. Looking her in the eyes, he assured, "No one will even notice."

Taking in a shaky breath, a smile spread her trembling lips. Again, her eyes shimmered. Blinking fast, she tried in vain to protect her two hour make-up job. Drawing in deep breaths, she looked helplessly from one man to the other.

Swooping in to save the day, Clark cupped her elbow and said, "Hey, hey, what are all these tears? Having second thoughts? Cold feet?"

"You know, it's still not too late to call this whole thing off," Bruce added.

Shaking her head, her smile widened. Placing her gloved hand on her Pa's cheek, she answered in a steady voice, "No. I'm doing this."

"He's the one, Papa," she assured as she curled her hand around her Pa's arm. Taking a step forward, she carefully negotiated a series of turns with her bouquet as she wrapped her other arm around her Dad's arm. As his hand patted her on the arm, she turned to face her Dad. Her voice, not much more than a sigh, smoothly declared, "I love him, Daddy, and I know he's worthy of me."

With a final nod, Bruce and Clark reached back and brought her veil forward. Facing the ushers, all three of them nodded in unison and waited for the doors to open.

-{()}-

As is custom, a reception followed the ceremony. It was a six hour long affair. By the end, the newlyweds could barely stand. So exhausted from the rush of events, they swayed as they waited for the limousine to pull up to the curb. Waving weakly at their friends and family, they entered the vehicle and let themselves be swept away.

At curbside, Bruce and Clark watched their baby girl leave. They stayed long after the others had gone back inside. Long after the vehicle disappeared from sight, they finally turned around and headed back.

Again, Bruce couldn't suppress a slight hitch in his step.

"We can go shopping for that cane in the morning."

With a small chuckle, Bruce shook his head. Reaching over, he took Clark's hand. Gripping it firmly, he took a deep breath.

"I think the time has come for us to have a little talk. We need to decide who will stand beside you when our grandchildren get married."

"I would think you'd already be filling that position."

"Clark..." he growled as he pulled his husband to a stop. Determination filled his face as Clark stepped up to him. That determination quickly faded as a sweet kiss landed on his lips.

"I have no doubt, Bruce," whispered Clark, against puckered lips. "Your money and your stubborn streak will keep you here for a long time to come."

"I'm not a young man anymore, Clark. I abused this body for years. It's going to catch up with me sooner or later. You need to be ready."

"But, not tonight," Clark countered. "Not on the day of our daughter's wedding."

Nodding, Bruce nodded. Tugging on Clark's hand, he guided his husband back inside. Lifting their clasped hands, he kissed at where they met. Looking up at Clark's youthful face, he sighed, "Okay, not tonight."

"But soon..."