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- Chapter Eight - Page 59
-
- The wedding had been no small affair, Paige throwing
in her two cents worth to ensure each minute detail
was in order. As Stone had said, Paige had promised
to see that this was the event of the year, which was
perhaps turning out to be the understatement of the
year.
-
- The cathedral held two thousand people and it was
standing room only. Lovelier weather couldn’t
have been ordered – dark blue skies, fluffy white clouds
with the sun peering over every now and then.
-
- Everything seemed so colorful, the red roses threaded
among flickering candles nestled into silver candlesticks;
Paige’s beautiful red gown; Cookie’s frilly red laced
dress and ruby slippers; Biblical images wedged inside
the stained-glass windows – everything so vivid, so
romantic. The feeling of everlasting was threaded
throughout the area; Cie felt it strongly. This
was right. This was her dream, her time, her life,
her romance.
-
- She vaguely recalled her long walk down the aisle
in the white pearled gown with the thirty-foot train,
or the priest’s words of wisdom as he stood framed by
the blinding stained glass. She was too overwhelmed
by Stone; he was devastating in the white tux, the corner
of a red silk handkerchief peeking out of a breast pocket.
- And she could have shot him when he leaned over and
whispered into her ear, “Thank God for clothes,” and
then he had nonchalantly nodded towards the innocent-looking
priest.
-
- Cie unsuccessfully fought off a laugh, and as the
priest proceeded through the ceremony, both her and
Stone continued to giggle. At least his comment
had jolted her to life.
-
- Mulligan was busily burning film and when Stone leaned
over to make another wisecrack she softly warned, “Don’t
you dare.”
-
- Stone finally sobered during the wedding kiss. Cie
could have been knocked over with a feather, for it
was the mother of all kisses. She had never witnessed
him this passionate before – and if it continued, it
promised to be an interesting, romantic evening – the kind
that would last a lifetime.
-
- It was at the reception when she was finally able
to ponder all the disastrous traditions that transpired
that day – Cookie’s tumble with her flower basket down
the aisle of all things; the young usher who had almost
set the cathedral ablaze when he had attempted lighting
a candle that was a tad too tall for him; and the cake
– oh yes, the cake.
-
- There had been four men that delivered the wedding
cake, and when one stumbled and fell it was like three
jugglers on ice until finally, they managed to find
a safe resting place.
-
- She was pulled from her thoughts as Hollace meandered
over to join her.
-
- “Lovely wedding, lovely bride,” he teased her. “However,
I may have to bill you for Birdy if her lumbago starts
acting up again.”
-
- He nodded towards the dance floor where Birdy was
slinging thighs and hips like there wasn’t a tomorrow.
-
- Cie giggled with Hollace as he turned her to him.
“Kiss from the bride? It is tradition, you
know?”
-
- Cie nodded and Hollace graced her cheek with a loving
kiss. “Congratulations, darling, you did it! I
shall look forward to you living here, next door to
us. Makes it so convenient.” He paused to
tweak her nose, then reminded, “I told you once not
so long ago that I did not enjoy losing.”
-
- Stone halted in his steps, Hollace’s voice drifting
to him through the short distance. He’d just stolen
a kiss from his bride – on the lips at that! At
least that’s how it looked from this angle. The
words he’d overheard hit him like a blast of cold water.
-
- Damn! He’d acted like a fool! Believing
her….trusting her….giving her reign of his house – everything…even
his heart.
-
- “Stone! Over here!” Hollace coaxed, waving
him to join them. “I have something to discuss
with the two of you.”
-
- Stone’s right jaw flinched with anger as he chose
to join them. His temper was just in check when
he reached them.
-
- Cie immediately clasped his hand in hers and he really
wished that she would not have. In fact, he did
not ever care to have this liar touch him again!
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