Friday, 11 May

There was something to be said about the workload she’d had to deal with when she started at university, and that was it gave her more time to really think through getting married. Beth was glad for the excuse to have a bit of a long engagement, not only to allow her time for schoolwork but also so she could adjust to the idea of being a wife. Of course, she had no one to blame but herself, but that didn’t make it any easier of a reality to accept. And now the day had finally come, in the wake of finals when she no longer felt justified in putting off the wedding. She took a long look at herself in the mirror, in her dress, and thought about what her father had said just minutes before.

I wish your mother could see you, Frank McCabe had said, and Beth had seen the excess moisture in his eyes as he’d looked at his youngest daughter, all done up in her wedding dress. She teared up herself and had thrown herself into his arms, hugging him tightly in a moment where her facade fell and she felt like the little girl she was. Seven simple words made her internally protest for a moment that she was getting married, that she had to grow up at all and leave her father, that he had been so sad ever since her mother had died. She’d told him over and over that she loved him, that she’d always be his baby girl, and had essentially spilled her heart out to him. No matter how old she got, she’d always be daddy’s little girl.

After that, she’d banished him for a few moments so she could regain her composure and clean up her face. She watched herself in the mirror, waiting for the redness to fade, taking deep breaths to calm herself down. She could do this. She was a big girl, more mature than most her age, she’d thought long and hard about this, and had made the decision for herself. Before she got the chance to get inside her own head again, she stood up, smoothing her hair back, and left the room. Her dad was waiting outside, and she smiled at him as she took his arm and the music began to play. "Love you, Daddy," she whispered as the processional march began and they entered the chapel where Arthur was waiting.

Standing up by the altar, Arthur was certain that he had sweat through his suit. His hands were certainly pretty clammy, and he has ruined the handkerchief that he had been given for just that purpose. He'd had to toss it away a few moments after he'd been handed it, and it now sat hidden under one of the pews where he had thrown it in his embarrassment.

He hadn't expected to be as nervous as he was. There was absolutely no reason for it. In movies there was always a nervous groom at the altar if he wasn't outrageously excited, and Arthur had always thought he would be different, but he had apparently been very wrong. He was excited, that was for sure, because he did like his bride, but he was nervous at the same time, worried that he would mess something in the ceremony up or else he was making a mistake and she wasn't actually as happy to be his wife that he thought she might be.

He thought that he and Elizabeth got along well in the short time that they had known each other, and he did find her a very attractive young woman. He was happy to be wed, and he was happy that he would be wed to her, but he was just worried about how she thought of him. He had done his best to be courteous, a gentleman, someone who she would be happy to be with. He wanted the marriage to work, despite how far from traditional it was. And he thought they had a chance, but what if she didn't? What if she got cold feet and left him standing up here in a fancy suit?

The processional music startled him a little, but the sound assuaged his fears in the same moment. She was here. She had shown up. He could breathe a sigh of relief. At least she was going to give the marriage a chance.

As the doors opened and she entered the chapel, he tried on a smile and, finding that easy, let it grow. It was going to be fine, and he actually was extremely happy. She looked absolutely radiant in her gown, and he was sure he looked at least decent in his tuxedo. They would be fine. This would work. He was sure that they would at least be happy as married friends if not as a husband and wife, and really, he was fine by that. She was a delight to talk to, and if he just so happened to share a house--or even a room--with her, he would be glad to share it.

Well, if Beth had thought Arthur handsome before, it was nothing compared to how he looked all done up in that suit with that nervous smile on his face. She forgot the context of the situation for a moment, admiring his bone structure and the blue of his eyes as she approached, still arm-in-arm with her father. She could almost feel the reluctance Frank had in letting go of her arm, in giving her -- physically -- to the man standing before them both, and it made her want to kiss and hug him all over again. She had to remind herself that she was doing this for him, and for her mother, as much as she was doing it for herself. She was definitely a daddy's girl, and seeing Frank McCabe in this much emotional stress was hell in the short term. It was all Beth could do to hope that it would pay off in the long run.

She stepped up to the altar, facing Arthur and smiling a smile that matched his for nervousness. "Hi," she said, feeling like a silly schoolgirl for it. "Glad you're here." She took his hands, studying his face more as the ceremony began. He really was quite interesting looking, with his high cheekbones and the way his smile incorporated his whole face. He was also just as good-looking on the inside, based on the conclusions she'd come to since they'd met. He was a sweetheart, really, and despite the qualms her father had, Beth was more than confident that Arthur would treat her right, no matter how young she was.

The minister was speaking, and she could hear his words about being gathered here today to witness blah blah blah. Technically the ceremony itself was just a dog and pony show, given that they were legally married from the moment they signed the marriage contract, but she bit it down. She knew the ceremony had a very, very good reason, and as she glanced at her father sitting in the front pew with tears in his eyes, she was reminded why. God, he had to stop looking like a kicked puppy all the time. It made her want to de-age about ten years and crawl into his lap and talk about dinosaurs until she fell asleep, like she used to. She smiled at him before turning her attention back to Arthur.

The time came for vows to be exchanged, and she cleared her throat. "Okay, so, I haven't written anything for this, so I'm just going to go off the cuff, and I don't much believe in tradition anyway. So, uh, Arthur, sometimes I have moments where I freak out a bit and think god, what the hell am I doing with myself? But then I look at you, and I think about how wonderful you've been the whole time we've known each other, and that just disappears. I mean, I have the social IQ of a salt shaker, but you and I seem like we're always on the same page, and I love that. I'm glad we're in this together, because I'm starting to think there's no one better than you. So, uh, I promise to be faithful and good and all that, but I think what's most important is that I promise to make you happy, because you've got a great smile and the more I see of it, the better. So I'm glad to be your wife, but I'm also glad to be your friend." She fumbled for a moment in fishing out the simple wedding band she'd picked out for him, and slipped it on his hand, hoping her own hands weren't too sweaty and gross from her nerves.

Watching as Elizabeth approached the altar, he couldn't really believe that he was as lucky as he was. If she looked radiant from far away, he wasn't sure what word could describe her when she got closer. Everything about her was gorgeous, and he wondered how on earth he had ended up engaged to someone who looked like her and who didn't seem to mind his own... interesting looks. He knew he was kind of an odd looking man--or at least, that was what he thought. But she didn't seem to mind, or at least hadn't brought it up.

And on top of her looks, she was absolutely a dream to talk to. Engaging, funny, madly intelligent, and she seemed so much older than she actually was. He was delighted with the fact that she acted like the mature and responsible adult that she was. He'd met so many people her age that acted like they had completely forgotten manners and any kind of common sense, but she had her head properly on her shoulders. She was brilliant, and he found himself thinking that almost any time they spoke.

At her joke, he let out a strangled giggle, realized that the sound had come out of his own mouth, and quickly lifted a hand to his mouth to cover it nervously. Maybe they had missed that? Probably not. "I'm really glad you're here, too," he murmured, rushing on in the hopes that anyone present would focus on the rest of the talking instead of the giggle.

As Frank stepped down from Elizabeth, Arthur couldn't help but nod his thanks at the only slightly older man. Arthur could imagine how hard it was for a man to give up his daughter, and when that daughter was still pretty young... This couldn't be easy for Frank, but he was doing it anyway, which Arthur saw as a brilliant testimony to the man's dedication to his daughter.

When Elizabeth began her vows, Arthur couldn't help but think to the small, folded piece of paper in an inner pocket of his suit. Her vows seemed so sweet just coming out off the top of her head. His would seem so scripted in comparison if he read it of the paper, wouldn't they? It wasn't like he didn't know what the majority of the little speech was anyway. He'd pretty much just written down a stream of consciousness and then edited out the stupid bits and added in metaphor. And the metaphor wasn't exactly top notch, either.

But really, how could he top hers? Hers were so sincere, and they settled any of his curiosities about her feelings for him. He had been right in thinking that they got along well, and that they considered each other good friends. And there was the bit in there about how she was glad they were together and she thought there wasn't anyone better? He could feel his face glowing with embarrassment at hearing those kinds of words spoken out loud, but his grin showed that he couldn't have been happier that they had been.

And then the wedding band was being placed on his ring finger and he couldn't help but notice that her hands were a bit damp as well, which actually relieved him in a way. He wasn't the only one who was nervous--she just held it together a bit better than he did.

"I um," he started, "I actually did write something, but it all seems really stupid now after that. So I guess all I can really say is that I promise to be the best husband you could ever ask for. I promise to support you in any and every way that I can, regardless of what the situation calls for. I'll do whatever you need me to, whenever you do. Because honestly, the time we've had together was fantastic, and I couldn't have asked for more from the match if I tried. You've just been so wonderful, and I hope to god that I can someday feel like I deserved this." He reached for her hand with one of his own, and with his other hand searched his pocket for the wedding band he had gotten her. He slipped it onto her finger with a small smile, watching it slide into place before glancing up at her, almost like he was checking to see if it was all right with her.

Well, that was that. Vows were said, rings exchanged. Beth glanced over at her dad, which was an immediate mistake thanks to the obvious glint of tears on his face. She teared up to, Arthur's own vows not particularly helping that situation. He may have been older than her, but they were kindred spirits and that was what was going to make their marriage work, in her mind. She made a mental note to make that whole undeserving notion he had into a thing of the past -- after all, as far as she was concerned, he hadn't done a single thing to not deserve her, and plenty of things to deserve her.

She smiled at him, blinking to keep from crying. She really didn't think she could've asked for a better fit, and she was sure her dad would come around in no time and the age difference would be a thing of the past. After all, they'd just exchanged vows and rings and their words had been sincere, impromptu ones. No planning, no lies, nothing -- just honest truth and feeling. Which was kind of why she'd chosen to say them off the cuff anyway. It felt more real.

The minister carried on with his part, pronouncing them by the power vested in him by the state of Indiana as man and wife, you may now kiss the bride and all the things that marked the closing of the ceremony. Beth glanced at her father again, cursing herself as she did so. His face and flashbacks to their conversation in the bridal suite were about to kill her composure, so she swallowed it all down, looked at Arthur, and narrowed her consciousness down to him. She leaned in and up, kissing him a little hesitantly at first, but sinking into a more confident one after a moment. There it was, like a little seal on their marriage. She pulled away, looking at him, and trying to attach the word "husband" to him in her mind. "Shall we, ah, blow this popsicle stand?" she said, with a little laugh in her voice. Married. Well. This was new.