2289. The marriage proposal

Desiree had thought about this moment for years. She had imagined it over and over. And now the time had come. In fact the moment had come and gone. It was nothing like she had imagined.

She had always wondered what the circumstances of a marriage proposal would be. Would it be over a romantic candlelight dinner? Would it be in a garden full of flowers and birdsong? Would it be in an orchard with bright red apples shining against a blue sky? Would it be…?

Then she met Liam. Her dreams intensified. She knew Liam was to be the one. He was such a romantic too. Whatever scheme he was to invent in order to propose marriage it was destined to be exotic and quixotic. And now the moment had come!

Liam was driving his old truck to pick up some garden compost from the Garden Centre for his parents. Desiree tagged along too as she often did. Then out of the blue Liam said, “I suppose we should get married” and Desiree said, “I ‘spose so”.

And that was it. It was perfect.

2265. History is made

Theodora was a stickler for looking nice. She would never appear in public without first putting on her glad rags. A carefully made up face was a must, and always with lipstick to match her nails.

When an earthquake struck and she ran out of her home flat stick, people commented that surely she wasn’t dressed to the nines all the time. She must have known an earthquake was about to strike! But the reality was, of course, that she did care every day for her appearance in and out of the house.

It therefore came as quite a surprise when Theodora’s name began to be associated with Teddy Potts. Teddy was a local farmer and as rough as guts. Even the backside of his pants was worn and sometimes torn. He always had a bit of hay here and there on this woollen pullover. The self-rolled cigarette permanently hanging from his lips was rarely lit. It was there for effect.

Soon Theodora and Teddy announced their engagement. All were invited to the wedding on the farm. It was to be “Bring a plate” (which is the Australian/New Zealand term for Potluck). The big question was: what should the wedding guests wear? It was on a farm so dress casually; or it’s Theodora’s wedding so dress fashionably; or it’s Teddy’s wedding so wear your old gardening clothes.

Guests arrived wearing all sorts. What a mixed crowd! Teddy was in a tuxedo but with a cigarette still hanging out his mouth. Theodora arrived wearing a stunning ensemble complete with veil and holding a bunch of barley and wild flowers off the farm.

Everyone had a great time. Even the old cow just across the fence watched the proceedings and mooed when the couple kissed. Everyone laughed.

And so, Dear Reader, this tale is proof indeed that some plots don’t ever get off the ground. Most lives are ordinary. They’re not riddled with murder and intrigue but things happen in a lovely way. And no doubt this couple lived happily ever after.

2189. Garden weeding, garden wedding

It was to be an early Autumn wedding. The timing was so that Olga could prepare her substantial grounds and garden for the occasion. In fact, Olga had spent the entire Spring and Summer preparing for the occasion. The colours of the garden blooms would match the bridesmaid’s dresses. The pagoda was painted a garden green. The bridge over the huge frog pond was fixed. The work had been tireless. The wedding guests were invited to dress casual. Perhaps a straw hat might do the trick.

Of course, Olga could afford the time to prepare. She had retired early, if forty-seven could be considered early. The divorce had thrust a substantial income her way. She was now a woman of means; a creature of leisure. Except her preparations in the garden could hardly be called leisure; she was there morning, noon and night in rain, hail or shine. What a perfect wedding it was going to be for daughter Naomi!

A stunning mix of red and white dahlias lined the bridal path. The only unpretty point in the arrangement was that it would be ruined by her ex-husband stomping down the garden aisle. It would be a brief but ugly sight. Hopefully the radiance of the bride reflected in the dahlias would distract from her ugly ex.

Honestly, if an alien craft accidentally landed in Olga’s wedding garden they would undoubtedly have construed Earth to be the loveliest planet in the Cosmos.

All was ready. Olga’s daughter was to stay the night. Tomorrow was the day! At last! At last!

That night saw the biggest storm in over a century.

2030. Mustang Molly

(The opening sentence for this story was suggested by Badfinger20 who is Max of PowerPop. If you want to join in the fun of suggesting a future opening sentence for these stories, please leave your suggestion in the comments – only one suggestion per person!)

Sam and Molly bought a 1966 Mustang from Molly’s dad but when driving away they heard something rattling in the door panel. They hadn’t paid much for the car. It was sort of an engagement present from Molly’s parents, Mack and Laura Rice.

Mack Rice was one of these dads who couldn’t help but insinuate possible future situations. Molly and Sam had been living together for almost three years. During that time Mack had hinted about marriage and when, and engagement and when, and wedding and when. Once he even personally oversaw Laura’s frosting of Molly’s birthday cake. It looked remarkably like a wedding cake.

“Oh Daddy!” exclaimed Molly. “Is this meant to be a hint?”

And now, to celebrate their engagement – at last! at last! – Mack had sold them his prize 1966 Mustang for a song. He was as excited about the engagement as they were excited about the car! But that rattling in the door panel. Mack had never said anything about that before. It was unlikely to be a mechanical thing because not even a fly had been allowed to land on the Mustang in the fifty-four years Mack had owned it. Sam would investigate as soon as they got home.

Sam carefully removed the inside of the door panel. There it was! The cause of the noise! A baby’s rattle!

“Oh Daddy!” exclaimed Molly. “Is this meant to be a hint?”

2012. Traditional wedding plans

Amanda was a solo mother. She had the one daughter, Anita, who was eighteen. Amanda knew that one day, perhaps sooner than later, Anita would get married. She knew that although Anita would say it doesn’t matter she really would like to have a lovely wedding. Nothing lavish; but a lovely wedding with flowers and pretty clothes and a modest but enjoyable feast. Of course, Amanda didn’t have much money but she had saved little bits for a long time. In fact, every Saturday Amanda would sell herbs growing in pots at the town’s Saturday Street Market. It was a dollar here and a dollar there.

Nineteen years earlier, Amanda had got married. She had always dreamed of a wedding. It ended up being “a rushed job” because Anita was on the way. Two weeks later, Kevin was killed in a car accident. It was partly why Amanda was determined to give Anita the best wedding possible.

Suddenly, an engagement was announced! Fintan was the loveliest. Amanda couldn’t have wished for a better possible son-in-law! His father was a lawyer, and Fintan was in his first year practising as a family doctor. Amanda couldn’t wait to meet his parents!

His parents said they’d pay for the wedding drinks; that was the tradition, and Amanda would pay for the rest. They suggested they limit the invited guests to two hundred each. Amanda said she didn’t think she knew that many people, and Fintan’s parents said that it was a good thing because they could invite more on their side to make up the numbers. It was, after all, a society wedding. He was an important lawyer in the town. Things had to be done properly.

What a mess it was for Amanda! What stress! She would have to tell Fintan’s parents that she couldn’t afford it. But first she would have to tell the happy couple.

Anita and Fintan laughed! They had a solution! They’d already thought it out. They were eloping. Tomorrow. And they did!

Fintan was disinherited. It didn’t matter too much because his medical practice flourished. These days Amanda has three grandchildren to help her on Saturdays at her herb stall. Fintan’s parents have no grandchildren; well, none that they care to know.

1904. Marriage Enrichment Program

Lucia and Basil were a most annoying couple – and they weren’t even married. They had lived at the same address for eleven years. What was annoying about that? What riled Christian and Deliah was they had gone along to the Marriage Enrichment sessions only to discover in the end that the facilitators weren’t even married. They were full of advice as to what to do and what not to do. And they argued. In fact they spent most of the sessions spitting tacks at one another.

“It came as a shock to us,” said Rupert. “Molly and me went along to the Marriage Guidance sessions to enrich our marriage and we got lectured at by two people who have never taken the plunge. Their conduct was appalling.”

“I can’t believe it,” said Hilary of Plazaville. “Herman and I attended knowing that our marriage was headed for the rocks, and all we got was superficial advice from a couple of people who didn’t have a clue what they were talking about. In fact it was like looking in the mirror to hear Lucia and Basil have a shouting match for a good half hour.”

“Ferdinand and I were engaged to be married and we thought pre-nuptial sessions would not simply enrich the day but enrich our future as well,” said Katie. “It was hardly enriching to be told that the institution of marriage was antiquated. And we’d paid good money for the course. It made us wonder if we should get married immediately and not wait until we had paid off the mortgage.”

“I was glad, although it might seem mean, when Basil dropped dead in the middle of spouting about marriage when he’d never even been married,” said Hilda. “I couldn’t help but think that reality catches up with everyone. Seeing Lucia go into hysteria almost made the cost of the course worthwhile. At least she wasn’t screaming at Basil anymore.”

“That’ll learn ‘em is what I say,” said Fred. “All twelve of us on the course agreed before Basil kicked it, that him and Lucia needed to be taught a lesson. That’s why we applauded when Rupert handed Basil a can of Mountain Dew and said ‘Cheers! Drink this!’ And that was curtains for him.”

“We all concur,” added Molly, “that the whole incident has certainly enriched our marriages. Rupert and I are talking again, and I believe other couples have had similar experiences.”

The organizers of the Marriage Enrichment Program have advertised for a new couple to run the next group of sessions. The couple must be diffident in their relationship. And unmarried.

1763. Here comes the bride

Vonda had spent her high school years (well, a good part of them) scribbling a combination of names in the back of her notebooks:

Vonda and Warren
Vonda and Doug
Vonda and Graeme
Vonda and Sylvester

She wondered which name combination would eventuate. Who would she marry? Vonda and…

Vonda and Kurt
Vonda and Damian
Vonda and Kent
Vonda and Iain

She would keep her family name of course. It was the word combination of first names that mattered:

Vonda and Lawrence are cordially invited to…
Vonda and Herbie made it into the finals of…
Vonda and Luke are proud to announce…
Vonda and Simon are just back from…

As it so happened, she fell in love with a gentleman called Trevor. At first Vonda thought that “Vonda and Trevor” had a nice ring to it. Both names shared the letter “V”. But in the weeks leading up to the wedding she decided that that was much too formal. She settled on “Vonnie and Trev”. So much more informal; so much more accessible; so much more likeable; loveable even.

You are cordially invited to the wedding of Vonnie and Trev.

Unfortunately what a banana skin was doing sitting on the floor just inside the church door was anyone’s guess. As Vonda entered the church she slipped on the banana skin, hit her head on the corner of a nearby pew, split open her skull, and all the name combinations in the world couldn’t revive her.

1716. Marion hits the jackpot

Within a week, Marion knew she had married the wrong man.

Both had been married before, and Marion blamed herself for not learning a lesson the first time round. It had been love at first sight. It had been an overwhelming passion. It had been an all-embracing two weeks of unbounded appetite. Then came the engagement ring. Then came the wedding. And now, just one week later, Marion knew that Howard was not the one.

Howard bred cockatiels. How could Marion stay married for life to a man who thought that a pair of cockatiels was a cockatoo? Besides, Rowan, Howard’s best friend, was singularly attractive (Marion thought).

Rowan was so funny! So amusing! So quaint! He thought a zucchini and a courgette were two different things! Such mirth can be instantly attractive!

1693. Huberta and Hubert

As if having the name of Huberta wasn’t bad enough… She’d gone and fallen in love with a man whose name was Hubert. “Huberta and Hubert” sounded doubly bad. “You are cordially invited to the wedding of Huberta and Hubert”. And so on.

Huberta practiced writing out the combination in all sorts of situations. Mind you, she simply scribbled it in the back of a notebook. “Huberta and Hubert announce the birth of their first child”; “Huberta and Hubert are booked on a Mediterranean cruise”; “Huberta and Hubert celebrate their golden wedding anniversary.”

Huberta suddenly snapped out of her reverie when the bell rang. That was the end of Mathematics class.

Oh if only Hubert would notice her and ask her out!

1552. Everyone pardons the rain

(The closing sentence for this story was suggested by Uma of One grain amongst the storm. If you want to join in the fun of suggesting a future closing sentence for these stories, click here for a peek as to what’s what.)

Everyone pardons the rain. If it rains on a picnic it’s cooling down the oppressive heat. If it rains on the street it’s washing away the stifling dust. If it rains on a normal day it’s watering the garden. If it rains at a funeral it is tears of sorrow. If it rains on a wedding procession ah! it is a sign of wonderful fertility.

Bernice had no such worries for her wedding. It was planned for the dry season when each day for weeks on end would dawn warm and dry. The bridal party and guests would process brightly from the church to the place where the reception was to be held. It would be on foot, except for a cousin in a wheel chair; she would be pushed! The whole world could take part in the procession if they wished.

And indeed! The day dawned bright and cheerful. The wedding service in the church was so beautiful that even grandpa had to borrow grandma’s lace handkerchief to dab his eyes. And then the groom announced: “We invite everyone to join our procession from here to the place of reception!”

They set out. Drums and fifes led the way. It was the happiest of all happy processions! That was when the bomb went off.

Somewhere up there, the clouds murmured and groaned as fat drops of rain fell on the lifeless forms on the street.