May 1st, 1996
The glittering stars of a thousand crystals reflecting the light sparkled above the midnight blue-and-gold luxury of the grand ballroom of the Armstrong family estate. Both of the long sides of the room were lined with windows that ran from near-floor to ceiling, and with the giant double-doors thrown open to the spring evening air, it felt more like standing in a mystic glen out of some fairytale.
The thousands of twinkling lights someone had set up through the gardens—which were already blooming beautifully thanks to the arrival of proper spring weather—only enhanced the effect.
The cream-and-dark-wood interior of the room was festooned with hundreds of yards of drape in shimmering golden yellow, and midnight blue velvets. The stage set up in the center of the room was opposite the open doors, and was backed by pale blue drape, so that the darker blue, yellow, and white flowers on the arch stood out against it.
The center of the room currently held rows and rows of white chairs, with the tables for the reception dinner off to either side. The tables were clothed in the same midnight blue, with the centerpieces the wedding party had enjoyed putting together settled in each one. Each a clear vase of silk flowers and tiny, twinkling lights.
When the ceremony was over, the staff would remove the chairs, and the space would be open for dancing.
Off to one side of the stage, the musicians were already warming up. Musicians, which almost amounted to a small orchestra., which they were. Apparently, the Armstrong family had were well-known patrons for the Central Orchestra, and several members had agreed to come play as a favor to friends of the Armstrong family.
A favor that probably was still costing a nice sum from someone, but it was all worth it given the result, and that was without seeing the bride and groom yet.
Cal shook his head, and smiled. "It's your best work yet, 'Lyse. I've never seen anything like it."
Alyse, standing beside him, blushed with pleasure. "Brandon and Julia were full of fantastic ideas," she replied quietly. "Their shared love of theatre and music inspired a lot of the choices, and the Armstrongs were very generous in helping realize quite a few of their bigger ideas. They actually had all of those fantastic draperies sitting tucked away neatly in a closet. Apparently one of their ancestors used to host huge military balls here."
Which meant large blue and gold decorations made sense. "That's good. I was wincing imagining the hit to the pocketbook to pay for that much fabric. Is that real velvet?"
"Every inch of it."
"You wish we had done something like this, don't you." It wasn't a question.
"You would have hated it," Alyse shook her head, chuckling, though her eyes still shone. "But I have to admit, part of me has always wanted an excuse to dress up like some Imperial princess from hundreds of years ago, glittering in jewels and silks, and dance with a handsome gentleman. The last part was the most important though, and I did get that." She looked down at him warmly.
"You'd make a stunning princess, but it's a good thing you didn't specify a prince, or I'd never have made the cut." He flashed her a roguish grin.
"You're far more fun than a prince," Alyse assured him before checking the time. "I need to go check on the wedding party. We're about forty-five minutes from go time."
"Go," Cal shooed her. "I'll go find Fullmetal or someone and keep myself entertained. You go make magic happen for those two."
Alyse turned to go. "If you think this is magic, wait until you taste the food."
"The way you're staring at that mirror you'd almost think you were the one getting married," Charisa teased Tore as they stood in one of the several rooms the wedding party had been given for the day to dress, and keep things.
Tore refrained from making a snarky comment. Instead, he smiled at her reflection behind him, made one last attempt to tame the untamable mop on top of his head, and settled for almost-professional. That was the state it had been in for most of his career anyway.
"Up until a couple of weeks ago, no one was going to be paying me any attention what-so-ever," Tore pointed out. "Now everywhere I go I'm someone to pay attention to. If I look like a mop, everyone will know about it tomorrow, and I hate that people might care that much."
His wife stepped forward, snagged the comb out of his hand, and went to work. "Then maybe you shouldn't worry about it so much," she suggested calmly. Her hands on his head had an immediate soothing effect, and Tore just let her work. "My father certainly didn't, unless it was something where he was supposed to be incredibly formal and official. Off-duty is off-duty, just like it has been the whole time you've been in the military. I mean, as long as you aren't planning to start holding drunken orgies in the President's office, who's going to care who matters?"
Tore almost choked at that image. "That was not in my plans."
Charisa chuckled. "I should hope not. All I mean is that if you look confident, and like their opinion of you doesn't matter, people will respond to that. There, now you don't look like a mop."
As usual, she had somehow managed to turn his dark brown curls—there were only a few streaks of silver in them even now, and it was more speckled throughout—into purposefully styled art. At the same time, his head felt clearer. "You are magic." He turned and kissed her. "Thank you."
"Well, I don't know about magic," Charisa smiled, "But I have a lot of practice with that curly hair you passed on to both of our handsome sons. Hopefully someone has managed the same magic with Brandon this afternoon."
"I think Alyse said that Bonnie offered to take care of stylistic duties," Tore replied after a moment's thought. Since she was currently on maternity leave, Tore had heard she was going a bit stir crazy, and had been happy to offer her hair and make-up expertise to the entire wedding party as needed.
"Then they have nothing to worry about." Charisa picked a fleck of lint off Tore's shoulder. "All right. Shall we go see how Brandon's doing?"
Tore nodded. "I expect we'd be a welcome sight at the moment." He would have appreciated anything his parents could have told him about relationships when he got married, even though his parents had never actually been married. If they had lived though, he imagined that they would have had a lot to offer him. As it was, he had been eternally grateful for everything Edward and Winry had given and taught him. Only as he got older had he realized just how much they really had been everything parents should be to their children. His being a fosterling had never entered into the equation in their minds.
Charisa took his arm, and they went down the hall to find their son.
Brandon Closson could not remember the last time he had been so nervous. Not even asking Julia out the first time, or kissing her, or his first day of culinary school; not even proposing. He had been so confident that she would say yes. After all, she had waited for him through five years of travel. He wasn't even really worried about today, because there was no way after all this planning that Julia was going to change her mind. In fact, Brandon was fairly sure that brides panicking at the last moment and backing out of weddings the day they happened was mostly a plot made up by film and television writers for dramatic effect. Oh, it probably happened, but it seemed like a really rare thing. He had yet to ever meet someone who had seen it happen in real life.
"That is one hell of a suit," his brother chuckled from where he stood off to one side, already dressed and ready to go. "Only you could pull off a color that bold."
"That's what I like about it, though if anyone else can, it'll be Julia." Brandon grinned. It certainly wasn't a subtle suit. In fact, it was the deep creamy golden yellow that was one of the two colors he and Julia had chosen for the wedding. A nice, matte satin, it was surprisingly not at all over-the-top. The vest was the same color, but checkered with fine stitched black lines that gave it a diamond texture. His tie and the handkerchief folded and tucked in his breast pocket were the blue of the wedding, but he had been determined not to wear the color his father and brother wore all the time. Maybe it was silly, but he wanted to do this in his own style. They might have wanted to get married in uniform, but he wasn't military, and he knew that Julia's gown—though he hadn't seen it—was a matching, lighter color of gold. Against the backdrop of groomsmen and bridesmaids in midnight blue, they would absolutely stand out. Even the shoes matched.
Julia, his May princess. Yes, the setting and outfits for the wedding were theatrical, and more elaborate than most weddings he had been to, but they were only going to do this once, and he had wanted to make sure it was everything Julia wanted. They had enjoyed putting this together; their own private production. Alyse had been fabulous at making their visions come true, without bankrupting General Stevens.
His nerves almost entirely stemmed from the fact that he had a surprise for Julia, and he just hoped that it went off well at the reception.
"I'm sure she looks fabulous," Dare agreed. His brother was the only one of the groomsmen not in the dark blue suits, but that was because he was wearing his dress uniform, which marked him well as the best man. "And given how nice the dress they put Marsalie in is, you'd better hope you can still speak when you see her." His four-year-old flower girl had reportedly squealed with delight when she got to try on her dress at the fitting after their arrival.
"If I can't say my lines today, I'll hang up my thespian hat." He may not be a professional, but they had both loved doing theatre—especially musical theatre—in school together. Brandon was used to saying lines on cue, in front of an audience, even if it had been a few years.
"Just don't hang up the chef's hat."
Brandon shook his head. "Never." That restaurant was his baby, and he was honestly more nervous about opening up shop in a couple of weeks than he was about tonight. "You're in for a treat tonight. Some of what's being served is a preview of a few of our planned signature dishes, and a few special items just for tonight as well." Unless they were really popular, then they might just have to make the menu. While Thian and Haoran were two of his groomsmen, Ione had offered to head up the catering and food, and she had definitely outdone herself with the selection. Though, as she had promised, she had purposefully kept off the menu the couple of dishes he'd discovered in Creta for which he had no self-control. They were favorites to be savored only occasionally, and in very small batches. He had no wish to revisit his panicked days of hitting the gym after the embarrassing amount of weight he'd gained his first semester in culinary school.
Thankfully that had been over four years, and hundreds of workouts, ago.
"Oh, I'm looking forward to it," Dare assured him.
"Good, because things are just about ready."
Brandon turned and found his parents standing in the doorway. His father in his full formal dress uniform, and his mother dressed to match, though her gown of a medium blue in the same family as the midnight, and military, but a few shades lighter, was not nearly as flashy as the gowns he had seen her wear out to formal dinners. It was flattering, and as always, he had trouble sometimes believing his mother was as old as she was, but it would definitely not draw eyes if she was standing next to say, Julia. Which, Brandon knew, was the point. "Good, because I'm ready to get started."
"Well, you certainly look the part of the leading man," his mother beamed, offering him a very careful hug so as not to wrinkle anything.
Brandon returned it until she released him. "I've been rehearsing long enough." It was time to get on with the show. There was only going to be one performance, and he just hoped he didn't miss a step.
"I can't believe you decided you'd rather spend this evening with a kid." Edward looked over at Winry, who sat beside him in the audience with Dare and Lorraine's baby, Kirk, sitting on her lap, looking wide-eyed around the room at all the sparkling lights and jewelry.
Winry, in her dusty-rose dress—that went nicely with the red pin-stripes in Ed's otherwise near-black satin gray suit—did not look at all dressed to be playing with a baby. "Oh, it's only until Lorraine finishes helping everyone get dressed and gets Marsalie in place with the flowers. Besides, he's an adorable little charmer. More than someone else I could name." She grinned at him.
Edward snorted, but he grinned back. The kid was cute, and thankfully behaving well considering the crowd of strangers. "Definitely littler," he agreed. He would never agree that the kid might be more charming than he was.
"Only you could feel threatened by an infant, Ed," his brother snickered on the other side of him.
"Who's threatened?" Edward sat back in his chair. It was almost time for the wedding to start. The instrumentalists—who happened to include his granddaughter Lily, who had come in from East City to join the selected musicians from the Central Orchestra as well—were warmed up and playing the pre-processional music. Randy and the twins were somewhere else in the audience. Edward was fairly certain almost every member of the family was here. Almost, because Eamon and Viviana hadn't been able to travel in from Creta. Not with a newborn, and the new precautions the Cretan government had in place for train travel while they were repairing the bridge Arsenic had destroyed. Minxia and Thrakos hadn't made it either, seeing as the boy was at the beginning of his campaign for President of Creta. Not everyone had made it up from Resembool either. Urey and Raina were still there. Raina had to teach, the kids were in school, and Urey was overseeing the construction of the new Medical Development Lab he and Ethan were opening. Reichart and Deanna had come up, however, and Aldon and Cassie were still here, staying with Ian and Bonnie and their kids while they got ready for the new babies.
Babies that Edward privately thought looked like they ought to be coming any day, when he had seen Ian and Bonnie arrive earlier. As usual, Ian looked every inch the star, in a night-black suit, with a tie of bright gold-on-gold fabric in Xingese dragons. Bonnie looked elegant in a flowing, layered gown that was quite flattering. Even that couldn't hide twenty-nine weeks of triplets.
The re-appearance of the couple was the real signal that things would be starting soon. Edward knew that Bonnie had been doing hair and makeup for the entire wedding party.
Then Lorraine appeared, and reclaimed her son with a thank you to Winry, and the music changed.
The procession in only took a few minutes. Practice and planning meant that they had the timing down, and the speed of the musicians was not too fast or too slow either. Brandon looked handsome in his golden yellow suit—Edward approved of the vibrant color that somehow managed not to look like a banana. It was actually quite tasteful—and he definitely stood out next to his brother, and the groomsmen and bride's maids, all of whom looked elegant in the dark, midnight blue.
Tore and Jean Stevens, escorting Charisa and Noelle, joined the party and took their seats in the front row. Edward wondered what Havoc and Breda would think if they had known their grandchildren—well Havoc's great, and Breda's grand—would one day be getting married. Mine too, Edward smiled to himself. As far as he was concerned, all of Tore's children were his grandchildren too.
Then the music changed again, and Marsalie came in, scattering white and gold flower petals, looking adorable in a dress that was a slightly lighter golden color than Brandon's suit. She carried herself as if the most important thing in the world was to properly spread petals so her soon-to-be-Aunt could walk on them. She reached the front just as she ran out of petals, and then went to stand by Camelia, with the bridesmaids. She took her aunt's hand and waited, looking eager.
Once more the music shifted, dramatically, into a beautiful ethereal peace heavy on the harp, violin, and flute that seemed to float through the room, as if announcing a faerie queen.
Julia appeared in the doorway, coming in from the garden of lights; a vision in floating gold. The off-the-shoulder dress, with a fitted bodice, flared from the hip in a glorious skirt of layers of golden sheer, over which was embroidered an incredible riot of flowing vines and flowers in nearly the same gold, save for bits of shading Edward could just see as she floated past them. He was glad he and Winry were right on the aisle. The train wasn't overly long, but it floating along behind her as if on a cloud. The bouquet of white and yellow blossoms trailed tendrils of greenery, and blue silk ribbon. The jewels on her necklace, and through her hair, were gold-set sapphires. Her whole being seemed to glow with joy.
A faerie queen indeed.
Brandon obviously thought so. Edward smirked as he watched the boy, staring in the best kind of stunned shock as his bride came to join him at the front. Edward had no idea where they had gotten—or chosen—the minister, but the man must have a good sense of humor to enjoy the theatrics that had been planned. He certainly had his own flare for the dramatic in his words. It was appropriate, but possibly the most interesting and entertaining ceremony Edward had ever been too.
The vows were appropriate, eloquent, and still very much Brandon and Julia, and before Edward could even think of being bored, they had come to kissing the bride, and the wedding was accomplished to erupting cheers.
Then came the never-ending run of family wedding photos. Not that Edward really minded. Their house was full of albums and frames of a million family photos over the past decades, and he loved and treasured every one of those moments.
Thankfully he and Winry were only in a very small number of them, so mostly he got to mingle and enjoy himself.
Mingle, and keep an eye out for what proved to be very discrete security. Not that Edward anticipated trouble, but the wedding of the children of two high ranking generals had turned into the wedding of the daughter of a ranking general and the son of the about-to-be-next President of the Military, and Tore had just busted a major part of Arsenic's coup plans a couple of weeks prior, nearly getting himself killed in the process.
The Armstrong Estate was possibly the best fortress in which to hold a major social event outside of Headquarters itself. A fact not lost on Edward, and probably not on their enemies either. The Armstrong family had well-vetted and loyal security of their own, as well as a large family of Armstrongs, and you'd just have to be crazy to want to mess with them. More than three-quarters of them were military, former military, or future military, and two of the current lot were State Alchemists, also in the family tradition. Not that Edward had actually met either of the new ones, but he had heard that they were both definitely chips off the old Armstrong block, if not quite as overwhelming as Alex, or his oldest sister, Olivier.
The armed security—military or private—blended in excellently with the extensive wedding party. They were all in suits, or uniforms, and everyone coming in to the party had been checked in at the door, but it had all been done tastefully, subtly. There was no reason for the happy couple to be worrying about such things on their big day. It was obvious that Tore, and the Armstrongs, had taken care of any concerns.
Which was good, because Brandon and Julia were entirely wrapped up in each other, as they should be, and the room was full of family and friends, a very extensive and energetic group of people who had come in, literally, from all over the world. Brandon had made quite a few friends in his travels, besides his three business partners.
Edward saw so much of the family mingling and talking with other guests as he moved slowly through the crowd, just watching everyone. Will and Ren were chatting with some of Brandon's Xingese friends, and Ethan and Lia were talking with someone Edward recognized as one of the physicians who worked at the Central Hospital, who he thought might be a friend of the Stevens family. Ted and Anika, Charlie and Shelby… a corner had been set up with things to keep children entertained, and Armstrong provided nannies—who Edward would also bet were trained armed security—so many of the parents were getting a little time without constantly having to watch their little ones underfoot.
"Are you here as guests or working?" Edward teased Gloria as she joined him, Alexei looming beside her. She had been jotting something down on a small notepad. Where she had hid it on her dress, Edward had no idea.
Gloria chuckled. "Can't we be both? They had a strict no-press policy about this event, except for us, so every Society magazine and column in the country is going to want anything we can give them. It's all right. Brandon told me we could."
"Far be it from me to discourage enterprise." Edward grinned. "Just don't work too hard. This is supposed to be fun."
"If you want to see fun, just wait until you see what's about to happen." Gloria's eyes twinkled mischievously. "You'll want a good view of the stage."
Curious, Edward followed as they made their way in that direction.
She was right of course. By now the photos were finally done, and the reception officially began. But, as most people started moving towards their tables for dinner, Brandon stood up and took the microphone. "If you'll indulge me, for a moment, everyone," he grinned. "I have, a gift, for my beautiful wife, that I'd like to give now. You all know, of course, that we're both lovers of musical theatre. And, you know, that my partners in the restaurant are all incredibly talented chefs. What you may not know… is we are also, a quartet. Julia, this is for you."
As he had spoken, Edward realized his three partners had joined him on the stage. Within moments, they were singing in four-part harmony. Edward, much to his own surprise, recognized the song. It was a love song—no surprise—from a classic, but still popular, production he and Winry had actually seen once, a couple of decades ago. They were incredibly good.
"You've never serenaded me," Winry whispered in his ear. Edward hadn't even heard her come up behind him.
"Given how little I sing, you should be grateful," Edward replied just as softly.
As it turned out, Brandon wasn't the only newly wed with a musical surprise. After an enthusiastic kiss from Julia, she took the microphone and she and her sisters surprised him with an orchestra-backed belting soul-filled romantic number of their own.
"If they ever wanted to change professions, I'd hire them," Ian commented from nearby.
When they finished, to rousing applause, everyone finished taking their seats, and the serving staff—once again supplied by the Armstrong estate—started bringing out the veritable feast that might be a second highlight of the evening.
Franz wasn't sure who had determined the seating arrangements for certain, but he certainly suspected Alyse's hand in it. He and Sara found themselves at a table not that far distance from the wedding party, only one past the Breda family tables—which held Niam and Denise, their daughter Tara and her husband, and her daughter, and several family members from Nancy's side. He and Sara had been placed at a table with Ethan, Lia, a physician and his wife who were friends of the Stevens, and Maes and Elena Mustang.
From the moment the first course came out, Franz was impressed, even if there was a moment of despair at the amount of gourmet food being offered. He had caved last week and purchased a new—properly fitting—formal suit for the occasion. While he would always have the right to wear his uniform and rank as a retired General, he would really rather not always draw that much attention.
All Sara had said when he put it on at home was how handsome he looked in it. Now that he could see himself clearly, he had to admit that, if nothing else, he looked better in a suit that fit properly, and was in a slightly more contemporary style, even if it was still a fairly classic cut. The suit was black, the tie alternating light and medium ice-blue with a silky sheen to it. Franz wondered when he would get used to seeing himself without glasses.
It was still, thankfully, a little amusing to get double-takes from people who had known him for years, when he showed up without them. This was the first large social event he had been to since the surgery. Being able to actually see the reactions made it worth it. That, and this stunning venue, and the beaming faces of the newlyweds that he could now see from several seats away.
He simply stopped worrying and enjoyed himself. The food was delightful; a fascinating mix of flavors, textures, and ingredients from across the continent. If the restaurant was going to be this good, he suspected they might have to be regular patrons! And it was, he discovered, often much healthier than he might have been concerned about. None of it turned out to be particularly heavy, and the portions sized more to sample each dish. Vegetables were fresh, often crisp, and the meat was juicy and moist, but lean. The spices often surprised him, and it all looked as good as it smelled.
The wedding cake looked more like a work of art! A towering masterpiece of blue, with shimmering golden detailing, that turned out to be a rich chocolate inside, with ganache between each layer. Decadent, but incredible.
The musicians never stopped playing, though as the meal wound past the cake, the speed picked up until they were playing more popular dance numbers, alternating with classic slow dances. The music was as international as the food.
Maes eyes lit up and he grinned at Elena. "I know this one. Would you care to dance, my darling?"
Elena chuckled, and offered her hand as she stood. "Of course." And they were off, as were the physician and his wife. Ethan and Lia had already moved off to another table and were talking animatedly with someone else Franz didn't know.
Franz looked at Sara. "Shall we join them?" he gestured out to the dance floor. The last time they had danced was in Petrayevka.
Sara's grinning told him he had made the right move. She stood, not quite dragging him out of his chair as they went out onto the dance floor. The first number playing was fast enough he had to pay attention to the footwork, but the second slowed down to something resembling a waltz, and they could talk quietly.
"People keep looking at us," he noted quietly as he spun her around the floor.
Sara chuckled. "Maybe they don't recognize you without glasses, and in this excellent suit. They're used to you in uniform."
Both thoughts he'd had himself. Franz smiled back. "We'd better be careful, or we're going to start rumors you've found yourself a new lover."
"As much more confident and active as you've been lately, I'm not entirely sure I haven't." Sara leaned in more snugly against him.
Franz hoped he wasn't blushing. He hadn't really noticed things being all that different, at least not in his own behavior, outside of being able to do the things he had been unable to do, or had struggled to do the past years. He could read again, and watch programs with her, or with his grandchildren. He could keep up with her better walking the dogs, without worrying about tripping on the sidewalk. House chores were faster and easier. He could see the dirt, and how much cleaner things looked afterwards. "I was hoping you'd found an old one," he admitted softly into her ear. "One you might like to runaway with."
"Did you have somewhere particular in mind?" Sara's voice caught for just a moment, her eyes burning with curiosity.
"Not in particular. Just someplace romantic, beautiful… private."
"I hear Creta is stunning this time of year."
Franz chuckled. "It's gorgeous, but do you really think they'd let us across the border right now?" The political situation with Creta was still bubbling under the surface, and the current administration was not at all cooperative in sharing information about the attack on the train on their side of the border, outside of what had been all over the public news.
Sara's coy smile gave him a feeling it wasn't just a romantic vacation that made her suggest Creta. "As you so nicely pointed out, you're barely recognizable in public without glasses. If we don't dress in our usual styles, keep things low key and don't draw attention, there's no reason for them to even know we're there, or care. It's not like we'll be breaking any laws, and they haven't actually closed the border." She winked. "Besides, my cousin's daughter's husband might like a little advice from an experienced political head."
"Head of a military is not the same thing as leading a whole country's civilian government," Franz felt compelled to point out. As much as Amestris had moved to the title President of the Military—often shortened to just President in references—over Fuhrer, largely by Mustang's insistence on not using the old term, it was not the same position, with the same duties.
"The President of the Cretan government is also the de facto head of their military," Sara pointed out. "And Thrakos has never served in one. Your advice and experience might be just what he needs not only in his campaign, but in helping him understand that if he takes office."
A very good point. "And… you'd like to do some snooping."
Sara laughed. "Would I be me if I didn't?"
"No, you wouldn't." Franz sighed; grateful the music was loud enough that no one else would hear their conversation on the dance floor. "Do we tell Tore?"
Sara's expression became more thoughtful. "That we're planning a little romantic holiday, yes. Given the government has been providing us security, it would look strange if we didn't. Though I imagine they won't send any with us into Creta. We'll be on our own."
"As long as no one knows it's us until we're safely in Pylos, I don't really think we're in that much danger." So far, none of the attacks had been more than a couple of days hard travel from the borders of Amestris, which implied that the center of their problem was somewhere in the country. "Besides, those soldiers would be better used elsewhere." And with his vision back, Franz was certain he wouldn't be as much of a liability in a fight.
"I agree, and not just because I'd like some time with you all to myself without someone lurking around." Sara's smile turned a little wicked. "I guess I'll make the arrangements."
"First, make sure you talk to your cousin's daughter," Franz chuckled. "It might not go over well if we show up entirely unannounced."
Sara brushed her lips against his in a quick, sweet kiss. "Don't worry. I'll handle everything."
Shelby could not remember the last time she'd had a more romantic evening, and it wasn't even her wedding. Not that she'd really had a wedding. She and Charlie had gotten married in the city municipal offices, with only Gill and Marlie for witnesses, and she'd been very pregnant with Abigail. That evening had been the announcement to her parents, and his, that had brought their secret plans to stay together to light. The start of years of difficulty and frustration that had, through a lot of hard work, finally turned from youthful passion, to a stable relationship.
While their lives were much happier now, with good income, careers they both wanted, and the children growing up and in school, it had been a lot of work to get this far. This winter, somehow, they would make it to their ten-year anniversary.
"You're thoughtful this evening," Charlie commented as they turned on the dance floor to a slow, romantic number. He looked handsome, as ever, in uniform, and somewhere in that ten years he had stopped looking like a boy playing dress-up. It fit him now, not just in cut, but in the way he moved, and stood, and his very presence.
"Just enjoying your company," Shelby admitted with a soft chuckle. "That, and that they were brilliant enough to find ways to keep the children occupied." Whoever had thought of that kids area was a genius. All four of hers were having fun with all the other kids at the party. They were in the room, but they were also somehow out of the way enough that you would have thought there might not be any at all. She hadn't been to a lot of fancy formals, but she could definitely get used to it. She'd had to buy a dress suitable for the occasion, and had opted for an icy blue gown that shimmered slightly without being too flashy. She loved how it fell and flattered her figure, and how it drew Charlie's gaze. After their rocky early years, she still felt better knowing that his eyes were on her, and because they wanted to be.
"You'd almost think this was adults only," Charlie agreed with a chuckle. "I'm glad they're having fun, too. There was nothing worse as a kid than getting dragged along to a formal party because Mom and Dad had to be there, stuffed in a suit, and then somehow expected to sit still and behave."
"You still can't sit still and behave," Shelby teased.
"That's why we're dancing." Charlie spun her to make the point. "Though this seems like the perfect time to ask you something I've been thinking about."
"Oh?" He had that intent expression in his eyes that he got when he wanted to ask her something really important, and often serious.
Charlie nodded, and seemed to be stealing himself, gathering courage. It made her nervous. "Would you… like to have a wedding?"
For a moment, all Shelby could do was stare. "You know, it's a little late to be asking that question," she pointed out after a moment.
Charlie shook his head. "I was listening to some folks talking the other day in the mess, and one of the female officers mentioned vow renewal ceremonies. I had no idea they were a thing. But… you know, it seemed kind of romantic to me and, since we didn't actually ever have a wedding, or even really a celebration… considering… I thought, maybe it might be nice, for our anniversary in a few months. I mean, ten years; it's a big deal, and I love you."
Enough that he'd marry her all over again. Shelby's heart melted. "Does this first wedding come with a real honeymoon?" she asked over the sound of her own heart pounding.
Charlie leaned in close. "Of course. Anywhere you want to go. Name it, and don't worry about the kids," he added with a wink. "I already talked to Mom about watching them for a few days. Not about the wedding idea," he added quickly. "Just… so we could do a nice trip together. Unless you wanted to bring the kids… a family vacation would be fun too."
"I think that might depend on where we go." The idea of a week alone with Charlie—a thing she had very rarely experienced, though they had managed a couple of weekend get-aways in the past couple of years—was incredibly appealing, but even now, she found the idea of leaving the kids for that long difficult, but not impossible. Especially since she knew Charlie's parents, and her parents, would be willing to watch them. Over the past couple of years her father had finally begun to thaw—a little—towards his son-in-law. Shelby was grateful they could finally have dinner with her parents without her father openly glowering across the table.
"Well, we have time to think about it and plan." Charlie's smile widened. "We don't have to decide right here on this dance floor. I mean, as long as you're not going to turn me down."
"Of course not!" Shelby exclaimed, before noticing the humor in his eyes. "Though you know all of our girls are going to insist on being in the wedding."
Charlie kissed her cheek. "I wouldn't dream of leaving any of the kids out. What fun would that be?"
Shelby kissed him back. "Sometimes, you say exactly the right thing."
"Only sometimes?" He pulled her a little closer.
"Sometimes."
Charisa could not imagine the wedding having gone better, both from a personal or a professional viewpoint. As always, Alyse's work was flawless. Any little blips along the way were just that, quickly fixed or smoothed over before they were even noticed. Brandon and Julia were happy and married, and everyone had enjoyed the music, the food, the dancing, the décor.
As the night grew late, the reception ended, and guests began to leave. Only then did Charisa and Tore catch up with Brandon and Julia, at the same time Jean and Noelle did, to make sure the newlyweds had everything they needed for tonight, and before they left on their honeymoon in the morning. Most importantly, it meant one more round of hugs. Brandon would no longer be living at home. He had moved his things out yesterday to the apartment that would now be Julia's and his. His room was empty for the first time, and all three of her children were officially out of the house.
"I'll still come over to cook, or to be cooked for," Brandon promised her with a chuckle as they shared a bone-crunching hug. "Only it'll be both of us, and we'll have to visit both houses."
"We've shared you with a few countries. I think continuing to share you with friends won't be too much of an ordeal," Tore commented, taking his turn at hugging Brandon, then Julia. He was grinning too, but Charisa could tell he was manfully trying not to break down and do something too sappy and sentimental in front of the remaining crowd of people who were on their way out, or helping with clean-up. "You too have fun this week, and we'll see you when you get back."
"But not too much fun?" Brandon asked with a knowing grin.
Charisa just shook her head as Tore snorted. "Have as much fun as you want to have," he told his son.
Then there were last minute second hugs, well wishes, and they were out the door.
"Well," Jean said as he turned around. "Guess its time to clean up."
Tore nodded, and then smiled at their long-time friend. "Do I want to know how much this cleaned out your wallet?"
Jean grinned. "Thanks to the generosity of the Armstrongs, and Alyse's amazing skills, not nearly as much as it looks like."