Chapter 27 - The Wedding
When you are young, it seems that there is always some lesson to be learned. When you are old, you can look back and laugh at how many times you had to learn those lessons, because the young always think they have learned everything they need to know and don't need further schooling.
For example, I had been dressing and acting like a woman for many years. It came naturally to me and, as far as I know, nobody had detected my underlying physical defects after the first year or so as a part-time woman.
At the ripe old age of twenty-one I knew that I had become a woman in all respects and was not going to go back to my old identity. Nothing was going to stop me, I had it all in hand.
Until I got involved in a wedding, that is. I could cite the arrogance and inexperience of one whose only brush with a wedding happened at around four years old, when I was bundled into a suit and tie (isn't he adorable!) and handed a pillow to carry down the aisle. I really don't remember the occasion, but Mom has told the story so many times it almost seems like I actually remember. I was imported for the wedding of a daughter of some friend-or-other, so it really had no meaning to me.
Now I was involved in another wedding, that of my mother-in-law-to-be. No, that needs to be said in more detail: I was a woman involved in a wedding, that of my mother-in-law-to-be. There are those that theorize there is a gene hidden somewhere on a chromosome buried deeply in the nucleus of each cell that is only activated by the word 'wedding' or one of it's variants, whose function is to turn off the higher functions of the brain until the words 'I do' reset it to inactivity. Perhaps I should have asked my endocrinologist when I was at his office, but I had other things on my mind.
Since it only seems to activate in women, it could be posited it was a recessive gene found only on the X chromosome, thus two X chromosomes would be required to activate. However, since I appeared to be a woman it had somehow activated in my body. Viral transmission, perhaps? Nobody had heard of gene therapy back then, but how else could I have gone gaga over the wedding?
I did, spending endless hours on fiddling details - seating arrangements, who got what size corsage with what flowers, would those candles be more appropriate than these candles. It seemed like a good idea at the time. When I wasn't nursing my wedding fever I was phoning doctors and attending to other medical matters, or calling Dad to find out just what our medical plan covered. Hey - he was an insurance agent, he knew all that stuff. For a wonder, I was actually glad to remove my bra and lay down in bed with Julie at night. Up until then I always had this feeling of regret when I had to remove my bra, it felt like surrendering the battle to the forces of masculinity. Now, after several 18-hour days in a row with my beloved, but weighty breast forms pressing into my chest, removing my bra was a relief.
The doctor's suggestion of breast implants was starting to look very attractive. I just hoped that I would be attractive after all that trouble and expense. I had run across a few horror stories of early implants that had gone wrong, like using sponges that hardened into rocks inside your breast or the implant migrating to someplace where it shouldn't be.
Well, Sandra had been right in everything so far, I would have to trust her. Anyway, there was no time for that now, I could hear Julie calling my name. I wondered what emergency had just occurred.
Friday, the rehearsal and the rehearsal dinner. The dress for such things is supposed to be casual, but that didn't cut any ice with either Julie or me. Think you can argue endlessly about wedding stuff? Try two girls who are determined to look smashing for a simple rehearsal dinner. Casual indeed!
The minister took everybody through the ceremony. Start here. Move there. Down the aisle with that ridiculous hesitation step. My wedding gene must be getting tired, I just couldn't get excited about walking like a horse about to shy from the starting gate. Stop at the altar, turn and step aside. Bow to your partner, bow to your corner, allemande left and do-si-do.
No problems, I could do it in four inch heels. I would be doing it in four inch heels or I'd be walking on the hem of my dress. I was looking forward to wearing that dress, Sandy wasn't one of those brides that make her bridesmaids look like clowns. Princesses maybe, but definitely not clowns.
Rehearsal done, we had the rehearsal dinner. With a light wrap around my shoulders, clutching my purse and smiling at the thought of a good feed, we entered the restaurant, to be astounded by my parents waiting at the bar.
What the heck were they doing here?
I felt Julie's arm drape across my shoulders as she said "See Mom, I told you she wouldn't have a clue."
"Connie, you really didn't think I would let you parents miss their daughter's first appearance as a bridesmaid, did you?" smiled Sandra.
"We wouldn't have missed this for the world," Dad said with a bemused look on his face. "How we ever managed to raise such a lovely woman is beyond me. Must be your mother's influence."
"Right answer, Lawrence. Darling, I can't believe how wonderful you look!" Mom gushed.
So the usual jumble of greetings were exchanged and we chatted for a few minutes until our table was ready. I was seated between Doug's son Stuart and Julie, who was next to his other son Eugene, thus the two temporary couples were seated next to the permanent couple. Naturally the brothers were interested in who I was and how Julie and I got together. They were a little tongue tied at first - how do you talk to a lesbian couple, anyway? - but we soon found they were nice guys and not interested in scoring either babes or points.
The food was good, the conversation convivial and we had a grand time. We left early as we did have a wedding tomorrow, we would burn the midnight oil then and rest this evening. We bid Mom and Dad goodnight to head for their hotel and headed for home.
Sandra's makeup was a bit mussed after wishing Doug goodnight. For form's sake they were spending the night in their own houses, even though they had been spending their previous nights in each other's beds quite constantly. They had decided to make their home at Sandra's place as it was a bit larger and more convenient for both of them to get to work.
This had actually shocked some of their friends. Really, there was still enough of the silly prudery of the forties and fifties hanging on that some believed a 'mature couple' shouldn't behave like that. I had to wonder what those gossips had to say about Julie and Connie.
Wouldn't they be surprised if they knew the whole story?
The wedding was beautiful, as all weddings are supposed to be. I danced with Mom and Dad, Doug and his sons, (I had never had the nerve to ask if the sons knew my past, although Doug certainly did) and a whole lot of men and a few women whose names are lost in the mists of time. Those four-inch heels started to hurt after a couple of hours, but I didn't want to admit they hurt because they made my legs look fabulous!
The newly wedded couple left well before the party ended, on their way to a honeymoon in the Caribbean. Julie and I finally struggled home pretty late, having the house all to ourselves for the next week. Heavenly.
