SEVEN

At twenty after seven, shortly before the start of her shift for the day, Shelagh stepped into the lobby of the medical center building. While still pushing her keys down into the front pocket of her purse, she was operating mostly on auto-pilot until an abrupt, "Hello!" interrupted her progress.

She jumped slightly, not having realized anyone else was in the lobby, but then smiled immediately when she saw Patrick standing by the elevators. "Good morning."

"I'm glad I caught you. I forgot to mention this before, but I wanted to give you a few days' notice to prepare, but I have something interesting in store for the grand finale of our month-long practice dating adventure."

"O-oh," she responded, stunned not just by unexpectedness of the topic of conversation, but that he had labeled the upcoming date as the finale.

"Here."

He handed her a piece of paper and she skimmed her eyes over it, immediately spotting the word "nuptials." Further examination showed the date of the event to be that upcoming Saturday night. "A wedding invitation?"

"Yes. A medical school classmate of mine is getting married, and I'd like you to be my plus-one. If you're comfortable."

"Oh, well, I-"

He interrupted her with, "Don't tell me: you've never been to a wedding before."

She smiled as she handed the invitation back to him. "I have, actually."

"Really?"

"Well, sort of. It was a wedding, but just a ceremony during church. There was no reception."

Smiling, he said, "Then this will be a new experience for you as we are invited to the reception and not the wedding ceremony itself, which they're doing privately at his family's home. Will you come with me?"

"Yes. Thank you for inviting me."

"Of course." He pressed the elevator call button and the doors opened immediately. After pressing the button for the second floor he turned to her and said, "I know the venue is closer to Philadelphia so I'll have to look to see how long it will take to get there. I'll text you later this week to let you know what time I'll be picking you up."

"That sounds fine."

When the elevator arrived on the second floor, he bid her goodbye with, "Have a good day Shelagh," and then turned towards the office he worked in without looking back.

Shelagh took a few extra seconds as she stepped out of the elevator and slowly turned in the opposite direction, not quite sure what to think of Patrick's invitation. On the one hand, she was relieved. It wasn't as though she minded spending time with him—quite the opposite in fact—but she felt guilty about "wasting his time" even if the dates had always been his idea. She also didn't want him to think she was unable to learn from the experiences he was providing for her and thus, at some point, would not need them anymore.

On the opposite hand, she was, at least on some level, sad about the endings of their dates because of how much she enjoyed them. Perhaps that in itself was also a problem because she didn't want to become too comfortable spending time with Patrick. Now that he was no longer working Saturdays, she was only watching Timothy one evening a week and she knew she could only continue to do that through the end of the calendar year if she intended on going back for her midwifery degree. Of course, she hadn't told him that, but she also had not officially signed up for any classes yet, either.

Shelagh was still thinking about the invitation as she walked into the employee break room to put her things in her locker. Fortunately, Trixie was also there getting ready for her shift, which allowed her to ask the question she was pondering out loud.

"Trixie, what should I wear to a wedding?

"Oh, well that's a very broad question—I'd need more details. Is it outdoors? Indoors? Formal? Casual?"

"I saw the name of the venue on the invitation, but I didn't recognize it."

Trixie twisted her lips to the side, thinking. "Do you know when it is?"

"Yes, this Saturday night at seven."

The blonde nodded. "Then I'd say you should wear a cocktail dress to be safe."

Frowning, as she feared that might be the case, she said, "I don't think I have one of those. Do you think a black skirt would be good enough?"

"Possibly. It might seem a little casual, though. I'd be happy to look through some websites with you over lunch and give you some ideas."

She smiled and thanked her colleague before turning towards her locker and continuing to think. Since she was trying to save for her tuition, she was doing her best not to spend any extra money, but perhaps she could find something in her budget. She very much doubted she could find a dress for under thirty dollars unless she had time to run to the thrift shop in town—and assuming that shop had something available in her size—but maybe there would be a clearance sale somewhere. She certainly did not want to look seriously underdressed and embarrass Patrick in front of his med school friends, and there was the promise of another fifty dollars when she babysat Tim on Wednesday night. Perhaps she could find something suitable, she would just have to hope Trixie could adjust her recommendations to her budget.

"Well…isn't this something," Patrick commented as they stepped into the dimly lit ballroom where the wedding reception was being held.

"Oh, wow." His companion said, squeezing his hand a bit harder as they stepped through the flower trellis and were greeted with waitresses holding trays of the couple's signature cocktail for the evening. She glanced up at him with notable disbelief. "I don't think I've ever seen anything like this before."

He hummed and picked up the drink offered to him, muttering a thank you to the waitress. "Well, I've certainly never been to a wedding this large before." He took a sip of the drink and scrunched his nose at how sweet it tasted on his tongue. It also seemed to be made with tequila, which was not his favorite liquor. "Do you want one of these drinks?"

"Is it alcoholic?" Shelagh asked. Patrick almost laughed at the question but understanding she had never been to a wedding reception before he just nodded. "No thank you, then."

"Do you not drink?" he asked, remembering that she had declined alcohol on all their previous practice dates.

She scrunched up her nose. "Not really. I don't have anything against it, but it always seems to make my stomach hurt quite a bit."

He nodded and then pulled her towards his left where he could see a bar that had a line that was not too long. "Let's see what else we can get you."

When they got into the line, he dropped her hand and reached into his pocket for his phone to make sure he did not have any messages from the babysitter. When he confirmed he did not, he took a moment to observe the space which had no shortage of decorations. It was all a bit gawdy in his opinion, but he could not say he was shocked that his old friend, who, during med school, drove a brand new Mercedes and wore thousand-dollar shoes, would throw such an affair.

Turning back to Shelagh, he smiled slightly at how lovely she looked in her black party dress and with her hair hanging around her shoulders in soft waves. She had almost exclusively worn her hair in a ponytail all the times he had seen her, so this was a nice change. She also appeared to be wearing a bit of makeup around her eyes, and he briefly wondered if wearing makeup was something she had never done before either. Probably not but given how long that list had grown he could not be certain.

When they were next in line for the bar, he pointed to a sign that showed all the cocktails available for the evening. Of the seven on the list, the bottom-most one was labeled with an asterisk. Patrick squinted his eyes to read the small text as best he could and then nudged Shelagh with his arm to draw her attention. "The bottom one is non-alcoholic," he said to her while pointing to the cocktail list.

She stepped around the couple in front of her so she could read the sign then returned with a small shake of her head. "I'll just have water."

He nodded, and when it was their turn at the bar, he ordered water for her and a beer for himself.

Using the information written on the place cards they'd picked up on their way into the reception, Patrick guided them towards their assigned table where he deposited his unwanted tequila drink, before asking Shelagh if she wanted to check out the food. She nodded and once again he took her hand so they would stick together as they navigated the crowded area around the available food. They waited in line for about ten minutes before it moved up far enough for them to see the generous spread of appetizers. Patrick, who found himself rather starving, took a bit of everything except the sushi, which he had long-before decided he would only eat after days of starvation—and even then, he'd be skeptical. Shelagh took a few cubes of cheese and one of the mini quiches before they returned to their table to eat.

Just as they sat down, the recorded music that had been playing turned off as a band took the stage. Unfortunately, the band was significantly louder than the previous music, so in order to speak to each other Shelagh and Patrick had to sit quite close together and speak rather loudly. He didn't mind, though. The way her knees bumped up against his leg actually made him smile a bit.

"Did you have a wedding like this?" she asked him as the band finished its first song of the night.

He laughed. "Goodness no. I, ah, was in my final year of medical school and Marianne had gone back to school to get her master's in teaching. We had no extra money and even less time. We were married in her parent's back yard and had a meal with some friends at a local restaurant after. It was…well I suppose it was rather nice because we didn't stress over planning. I didn't do any planning at all, to be honest. Marianne's mother did the bulk of everything, and it was…well, there was nothing wrong with it. I certainly don't regret not having to stress over many details."

"Do you wish it had been more like this?"

He pressed his lips together and gazed around the space packed with tables, people dancing, and copious amounts of food. Turning back to her he said, "Well, even if I invited everyone I knew, I probably wouldn't even be able to invite half this many people." She smiled slightly and then he continued, "But to your point I suppose…well, do I wish we had had some nicer food than chicken wings and soggy fries? Yes, but those aren't important enough details to really matter now."

He really hadn't given much thought to the wedding reception at the time. Marianne's mother had chosen the restaurant, and it was one he'd eaten at before, so he knew what to expect. Frankly, he was too worried about all his exams to really care all that much. At the time, his mindset was that getting married was just one more thing he had to check off his to-do list. Since his parents had never married each other (or anyone else), he didn't feel it was very important to get married. Marianne wanted to, and he had no objections, so they did, but in hindsight, since the marriage ended in divorce, what did it matter how it happened? Of course, he didn't want to say that to Shelagh and make her feel bad; she was just being curious.

Wanting to redirect the subject, he said, "What about you? Would you like a wedding like this?" When her eyes went wide, he laughed and said, "So that's a 'no' then?"

"Definitely not. It's too big, too loud, and," she paused to pick up the shimmering silver table cloth and fluff it a bit, "all too much."

His eyes drifting towards the garish centerpiece that took up so much space there was hardly enough room for the guest's plates, glasses, and silverware, he nodded. "I certainly agree. It's also far too expensive—Gavin told me the whole thing cost them thirty-five thousand."

Shelagh's jaw dropped open. "You're joking."

Patrick shook his head. He'd been surprised when Gavin messaged him over Facebook the month before to thank him for returning his RSVP card. Patrick never used his Facebook, and only kept a very scant profile public because it was strongly encouraged by the practice he worked for. When he'd responded with a simple, "Looking forward to seeing you there," Gavin responded with a longer message, boasting about the party itself and how much his soon-to-be wife was spending on it, which Patrick found to be rather off-putting, particularly since he and Gavin hadn't spoken since he left the hospital in Philadelphia a year prior.

"But, but—that's…that's ten times what I paid for my car!" Shelagh spluttered. "I could have ten cars instead of this wedding!"

"But how could you ever drive them all," he quipped in response. She gave him a look and he laughed. Then, after eating the last mini quiche on his plate, he thumbed towards the dancefloor and said, "We can dance once you're finished eating."

Her gaze drifted towards her lap as she confessed, "Oh…I don't really know how to dance with a man."

Already having anticipated such a response from her, Patrick didn't miss a beat. "I will be happy to show you."

She lifted her gaze as a smile blossomed on her face and she nodded. Then, after popping one last piece of cheese in her mouth, she stood and reached out her hand to him. He grabbed it and led them towards their next practice date adventure.

"Oh my goodness," Shelagh proclaimed as they walked out into the cool night air. She grabbed both of her earlobes, gave them a tug, and looked up at him. "It must have been louder in there than I realized; my ears are ringing!"

Experiencing a similar feeling, Patrick nodded. "The band really was giving it their all. Despite that, did you have a good time?"

"Yes. And once again I am sorry for stepping on your feet."

He laughed. "It's not a problem." As no one could ever mistake him for Fred Astair, Patrick probably was not the best choice to teach Shelagh how to dance, but they managed it for the most part. She'd only stepped on his feet twice and each time was more of a bump than a stomp, so he'd laughed it off. In the end, though, he thought they did reasonably well swaying to the slower songs, but they both wisely sat out the more upbeat numbers.

"How about you? Did you have a good time?"

"Definitely," he said as they slowly made their way across the parking lot. He'd actually had quite a bit of fun between the dancing, the food, and getting to chat with Shelagh off and on for hours. His favorite moment easily was when they'd selected desserts from the long buffet table that was an absolute embarrassment of sweets. Shelagh had chosen a chocolate mousse cake and with just one bite had enthusiastically proclaimed it to be the best thing she'd ever eaten. While Patrick's choice of a white cake with lemon curd filling was quite good, he wasn't sure it fit that descriptor as the icing was a little sweet for his taste. Shelagh, however, went on about how good the cake was for several minutes, which had him grinning. He loved seeing the smile on her face.

More than just his general enjoyment of the evening, Patrick realized that for the first time during his time with Shelagh, their date actually felt like a real date. Apart from when she was clearly struggling to follow his instructions on the dance floor, he never would have guessed she was a dating novice. That meant their month-long effort had been a success and that was something they could both be proud of.

Though he knew that it was always going to be the case, Patrick found himself a bit sad at the prospect of not taking Shelagh out anymore. He knew that it was time for them both to move on, but he'd genuinely enjoyed his time with her. As such, there was only one way he could think of to mark the end of their evening.

As they approached the back of his vehicle, he grasped onto her hand, gave it a little tug and asked, "May I kiss you?"

Her mouth formed an O-shape as though she was about to say something, but instead she merely nodded her head. He smiled down at her for a half second and then leaned down and pressed his lips briefly against hers. When he pulled back, he saw that she looked a little stunned. He bit back a laugh at how adorable it made her look and said, "C'mon. Let's go home."

Before he could step away, she grasped onto his hand with both of hers and said genuinely, "Thank you, Patrick. For everything."

He gave her hands a squeeze and nodded. "Any time."