In Love With Lori Ch 07 Pt 02 2

This is the final part of the 'Lori' Saga, it's been fun to write, Lori feels like a fun girl to be around, wherever she's gone, I hope she's having a ball there with her Davey!

This story is just that; a story, no realism or intent to imply any real-world activity is implied, it's all in fun, because it's just a story.

All credit for the fact this makes sense at all is due to GrandTeton for his critical eye, his feel for story-flow, and his restraint when curbing my wild, punctuation-scattering sprees. I may in the fullness of time write the Richard/Hugo/Josie/Sara story, but that will be in another genre altogether; it sounds like it might be fun, so we shall see. In the meantime, thank you for sharing my world, please read, enjoy, comment if you want, vote if you feel so inclined.

All my best,

bb1958

*****

Insights & End-Game:

And so the day of the wedding loomed ever closer; all the invitations had gone out, all the RSVP's were back in, dozens of polite variations on 'yes of course I'm coming', with the unseen subtext 'he's marrying an American? Wasn't an English girl good enough? This I gotta see!', and all Sophie's preparations were finally, irrevocably in place.

Davey's Best Man was an old school buddy of his, Jack Cameron, a tall, handsome, quietly witty man, who brought his pregnant Japanese wife, Teruko. I was awestruck at her flawless beauty; she looked like every man's Asian Movie-Girl fantasy, taller and shapelier than most Japanese girls I'd seen, with huge dark eyes, clear, fair, skin and a little snub nose, with fine, classic features. She had long, smoky blonde hair so fine and silky that it stirred and fluttered in the slightest breeze, and the most charming, sweet voice I'd ever heard.

According to Davey, Jack had been seriously injured before Davey had ever come home, and Teruko had been with him through it, willing him well and whole again, but that had been several years earlier, and Jack was now fully completely recovered, and back in the pink again.

All of Davey's school friends, people I'd often heard him mention, but faces I'd only ever seen in photo-albums, were there. Harry Waterfield was possibly the most handsome young man I'd ever seen (barring my Davey). He looked like the hero of every romance I'd ever read in secret, my one guilty pleasure, along with his unfeasibly beautiful Eurasian wife, Sai Fong, also pregnant, and obviously completely familiar with Davey, if the greeting she gave him was anything to go by; oddly enough, she had the same gray-hazel eyes as Harry, and hair the exact same shade of warm, chocolate-brown as his, which I thought was an odd coincidence, but on her they looked spectacular, and just made her even more exotically beautiful.

Davey's fellow medical student, Andy Edgeworth, and his lovely wife, Linda were also there. Of all Davey's old friends, Andy was the one I was most familiar with; even though he was studying medicine all the way up in Edinburgh, and I'd never actually met him, I felt like I knew him best of all Davey's friends; he was Davey's go-to when he needed his confidence boosting, or when he'd had a rough time from one of his mentors, or if one or the other had muffed an exam or test, and they often had long, incomprehensible conversations about medical stuff that made me feel nauseous if I happened to eavesdrop on them.

Andy looked nothing like how I thought an English doctor would look; he was something like Davey, but different, less gorgeous, of course, and from his overheard accent and manner of speech, I had expected tweedy and hearty in a 'country gentleman, field-sports and gun-dog-owning' sort of way, possibly driving around in a classic Morgan or MG A; instead, he looked like all the arctic explorers and mountaineers I'd ever pictured reading adventure stories when I was a girl; tall, craggy, rugged, and burly, with big, gentle hands, and a sense of immense physical strength barely held in check.

No-one would have seemed to me less likely to be a surgeon; he looked more like he should have been mushing a dog-team across the Great White Waste, or playing defensive tackle for the Chiefs (hey, I'm from Iowa, who else am I gonna shout for...?), but Davey told me he was consistently winning praise from his mentors for his technique and the delicacy of his touch; one day he was going to be a world-renowned surgeon, Davey was convinced of it.

Linda, on the other hand, looked exactly like how I'd always supposed a proper English rose would look; she was tall, slender, graceful, and beautiful without being obvious, not a cutesy beauty queen, rather the kind of beauty that would stay with her for life; you could tell just by looking at her that when she was a little old lady, she'd still be luminously beautiful, because some kinds of beauty remain and resist time when cute and pretty fades.

To go with her air of refinement she had a bell of shining walnut-brown hair that fell almost to her waist, clear, fair skin, and large, expressive, cornflower-blue doll-eyes (just like Andy's, now I come to think about it...) framed by long, sooty lashes, and a refined, 'received pronunciation' English accent even more 'Home-Counties Boarding-School' than Sophie's.

She was yet another girl who was well-known to Davey; she'd obviously known him since she was very young, judging by her easy, almost sisterly familiarity in his company, and her deep fondness for him was plain to see. Her lips were naturally coral, framing a sweet, generous mouth, and she had a clear, fresh complexion and softly delicate, rose-pink cheeks, with just a hint of a spray of freckles across her classic cheekbones and the bridge of her pert nose. Her eyebrows were perfect, perfectly symmetrical arches, and she had a long, elegant neck. If you look up 'English Rose' in any dictionary, you'll find a picture of Linda Edgeworth there, I can almost guarantee it.

These then were Davey's oldest, closest friends; he'd known them since school days, and they were as tight a bunch as I'd ever seen; one would have thought they'd last seen each other that weekend, the way they fell into their banter and ease in each other's company, not years earlier, and the fact they'd made time and come from all over Britain to be there for him on this day spoke volumes about the regard they held him in. I was proud my Davey had such special and enduring friends.

Sophie greeted all Davey's friends warmly, but most especially Harry and Andy; apparently she and Uncle Richard had known Harry's father when they were posted to Hong Kong; he had been police commissioner before Hong Kong was handed back to China, a senior member of the Governor's staff, and Andy's family and connections were well known to Sophie's family, being as they were all from Devonshire or Somerset, in the West Country of England.

I remarked in private to Davey how connected and adoring his friends seemed when it came to their wives, and Davey gave me that patented raised eyebrow and quizzical look he keeps in store for when he's going to point-out the obvious to me.

"Darling Girl, I'm going to share a few things with you, regarding my friends; it's kind of personal, and I really don't want them to know I shared this with you, but I won't keep secrets from you. Swear you'll keep shtum? On Mummy-Bum?"

I had to grin at him invoking my childhood swear, but I nodded and hooked pinkies with him, knowing he knew I was psychologically incapable of breaking a Mummy-Bum swear...

"OK, I swear on Mummy-Bum; there, good enough?"

Davey grinned, and I had to grin back, he looked so boyish and sweet.

"So what's the scoop, Blondie? What's this deep, dark secret you made me swear Mummy-Bum on? Are you all some kind of secret society of assassins? Star-Lizard people from the Horsehead Nebula? Illuminati? The Jedi Council is for real, and they're it? Talk, Denham, I'm bursting here!"

Davey pulled me closer and nibbled my lips, something I'm pretty much unable to resist, so I nibbled back, but I still wanted to know what was going on, so I stared soulfully into his eyes then pinched his ass, making him jump.

"Tell me!" I demanded, so he did.

"Darling Girl, you and me, us, we're...we're not alone; what I mean is, you and I, what we are, what we really are, well, Harry and Sai, Andy and Linda, and Jack and Teruko, they're like us too; they're in exactly the same boat as us. Most of our friends know. Jack's been in love with Teruko since forever, and everyone's always known how Sai Fong felt about Harry; I mean, look at him; is it any wonder?"

He paused and looked vaguely at me, that pensive look he gets when he's working out what to say next.

"Sweetheart, I always thought, if I even thought about it at all, that nothing like that was ever going to happen for me; you have to admit, how it was between us, there was fat chance of that ever happening with us. But it did, and now I know how Harry feels, and Jack, and Andy; all I can say is that if they're even one tenth as happy as I am right now, then they must be truly happy indeed and fully committed to the girls they love, just as I am to the girl I love. Just looking at how happy they are makes me realise just how happy I am, and how happy I'm going to be; we made the right choice, baby, just like them, and I have no regrets at all."

He grinned again, and tapped the tip of my nose with his forefinger.

"So now you know; we're not as unique as maybe you thought, but then, we're not alone, either. I think Sai Fong's already caught-on; don't ask me how, but she's got a mind like a diamond-drill, and we've probably been leaving clues for those to read who can, like Sai, but know this: I trust her completely; I've known her it seems like forever, at least since she was ten years old anyway, likewise Linda, although I don't think she's worked it out yet. Jack gave me a very strange look when I told him who I was marrying. I think he remembers I had a snotty little brat sister thousands of miles away called 'Lori', so he's probably put it together now, and I'd be surprised if Andy doesn't already know if Jack knows; he and Jack have always been very close, and they share, but he won't say anything, for obvious reasons."

My mind was reeling with this sudden influx of information; no wonder Davey had accepted that he and I could make this work; he'd already seen it happen before, and it had worked out perfectly for his best and closest friends! When it happened to him, he was already subconsciously primed to accept it. His reaction to me and my scheming made sense now. His willingness to be with me was so headlong and wholehearted because he knew from his friends' experiences how it could be, even if he didn't register it at the top of his mind at the time.

I don't believe he'd ever sat down and consciously thought out or planned anything that had happened between us; he didn't need to, he already knew, because he was already in a receptive state when I made a play for him. In truth, I believe he was truly unaware at the time that he was ready for me if we should somehow embark on something, but that didn't stop him responding so positively, because I don't honestly think he could have done anything different.

"'Snotty little brat sister', eh? You'll pay for that, Doctor-Man!" was all I said though, and it was kind of half-hearted; I was too busy having insights, not something I do on a regular basis; I kind of live on my skin, but everything Davey had said, and the train of thought it had set off in me made true and perfect sense in a way not much else did most of the time. Davey had jumped at me because he was ready to accept me, even if he didn't consciously know why, but now I did. He and I have a lot to thank his friends and their choices for.

*

The wedding was flawless, thanks to Sophie's meticulous planning, her inspired contingency-planning in case someone like Bella or Maude showed-up and tried to disrupt the proceedings, and her foresight in planning the seating so no jealous ex or wannabe started a commotion; those girls who might be part of a clique with trouble on their minds were salted around in the seating plan a long way from each other in case they decided on a little concerted troublemaking.

All of Davey's close family and friends were given prominent seating to drive home that this was going to happen, it was a done-deal, get used to it, to anyone who may have been harbouring any last-minute resentments.

Not that it would have made the slightest difference, of course. Davey and I were already legally married, and this whole elaborate show was for form's sake and the benefit of family and friends, but I still didn't want someone who thought they had an ax to grind suddenly kicking-off and ruining my big day.

Walking down the Nave of the chapel (and Davey pointed that out to me; the aisles in a church are on the

sides

of the congregation, or behind the choir; the central approach to the altar is the

Nave

) on Richard's arm to where the Dean of the chapel waited for us at the Lectern under the spectacular domed ceiling, at the entrance to the Choir, was the most unbelievable experience of my life; the swelling music of the Wedding March, David and Jack, Richard and Hugo, and Jimmy all waiting for me, dressed in matching dove-gray morning suits with tailcoats, vests, and impeccably knotted gray silk ties, with folded gray silk handkerchiefs in their breast pockets. I'm sure they all looked wonderful in their formal attire, but I only had eyes for my Davey.

Uncle Richard had chosen to wear a black morning coat and blue silk tie, as befitted the father of the bride. He kept his hand on mine as I held his arm, steadying me and being what I needed most just then. True to her word, there was Sophie, sitting on the Bride's Side, dabbing at her eyes as she cried for me, just as she'd promised she would, just as Aunt Sybil was doing, while Rosie, my Maid of Honor, and Josie and Sara, my demurely beautiful Bridesmaids held my veil as they followed me.

Sybil had surprised me that morning with a long, ornately embroidered veil of sparkling white handmade Nottingham lace, dotted with seed pearls, tiny little satin roses, and the blue glint of tiny blue gems, referencing my blue eyes; I nearly lost it when Sybil told me it had been my mother's veil, she'd entrusted it to her best friend, Sybil, to keep safe for her when she'd moved to Iowa, and Sybil in turn had been delighted to give it to me as a wedding gift from Mom; poor Sybil had to do a lot of hurried repair to my make-up to get me past that, believe me!

My one break with tradition was my bouquet, a beautiful spray of blue English wildflowers; Cornflowers, Borage, exquisite little Forget-Me-Not's, Harebells, and Wild Basil, accented with subtle little peach and gold-blushed roses.

To top it all off, I wore Sophie's platinum and diamond tiara that she'd worn on her wedding day, along with the antique blue diamond pendant Davey had bought me in Boston, and a finely-worked silver and gold filigree bracelet Uncle Richard had given me, so I would have the requisite 'something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue' to bring good luck.

*

The reception was held back at the house, in a marquee Jimmy had set-up for us as his gift to us, complete with a dance-floor. Of course, Davey had the first dance, but the special dance for me was the daddy-daughter dance I had with Uncle Richard.

I was struggling to hold back the tears as I danced with him; it felt so much like how I'd always imagined my daddy-daughter dance would be like when Daddy danced with me on my wedding day. Richard obviously sensed how I was feeling, what the dance meant to me, and so as he whirled me around the dance-floor, he guided me while I lost myself in memories of my daddy. When I smiled at him to thank him, for one split second his features seemed to smoke and change, and I saw daddy smiling at me, and then I knew; somehow, my daddy had been there and had that special dance with me on my special day.

When the traditional time for me to throw my bouquet came, I held back; Sophie and I had a plan, and everyone had to be there, so I waited until she'd chivvied everyone into the marquee, then, when everyone counted down 'three...two...one!', instead of turning my back and tossing it over my shoulder, I walked out to where everyone waited, and handed my bouquet to Rosie. She stared at me in shocked, wide-eyed silence, then her mouth fell open as I stepped aside to reveal Jimmy right behind me. Rosie froze, then, when Jimmy dropped to one knee and opened the ring box Sophie had handed him, two large tears ran down her cheeks as her eyes brimmed over.

"Rosie, my own true love, I've loved you from the moment I first set eyes on you. Will you wear my ring, marry me, and be my wife?"

Rosie smiled as she bent down to kiss him, then straightened up and took his hand.

"Jimmy, dearest, it would be an honor to wear your ring. Yes, of course I'll marry you, and yes, I want more than anything to be your wife!"

I was applauding with the best of them, and glowing with happiness for both of them, until I caught Davey's expression, that 'what did I tell you about meddling?' look pasted on his phiz, but then Sophie was glowing too, and Aunt Sybil, so he just had to bite his tongue and shut his face; I love it when a plan goes right! Still, I had a couple of qualms when we were finally alone together, but by then his usual sunny self was back in evidence, and whatever he thought about my plotting and planning he very wisely kept to himself.

Richard's speech as Father of the Bride, was short, sweet, and very loving; his obvious affection for Davey showed in every sentence, and there was very little of the 'behave yourself or I'll bury your headless carcass under the shed' that Sophie had promised, but there was much love and affection for both of us; I was struggling to hold back the tears as he gave the speech Daddy would have given, his words honoring my daddy with the fatherly care and obvious love for both of us he showed in every sentence. Every bride should have a speech as wonderful, as loving, as Richard's on her wedding day.

Jack made us laugh in his description of some of Davey's escapades, and the small emerald pendants he gave Josie and Sara, and the gold locket he gave Rosie, as the gifts the best man is traditionally required to give the bridesmaids, showed care and attention to detail.

Richard and Hugo watched the girls like hawks all through the speeches, no doubt plotting their next moves, and sure enough, after the toasts and speeches and cutting of the cake, I couldn't help but notice a certain lack; Josie and Sara had disappeared, as had Richard and Hugo. I had an inkling where they were, actually less of an inkling and more of a dead certainty I knew, if not exactly where they were, definitely what they were doing, but whenever Davey looked like he was going to ask where his cousins were, I immediately shoved him into a gang of well-wishers and let him talk to all of them at once.

In this way I kept him occupied until Richard and Hugo reappeared, with Sara on Richard's arm, and Josie on Hugo's, all four of them looking bright-eyed and slightly mussed-up; at one point Davey even caught me signalling to Josie that her lipstick was smeared, and there was definitely some of it on Hugo's neck, which I immediately passed-off as a waved 'hello!' to someone or the other.

As before, I got that slightly quizzical, slightly puzzled eyebrow he got in full from Mom, but then he saw the slightly dishevelled state of the Bridal party and grinned as two and two finally dropped into place.

One moment of awkwardness slipped in when Davey's friends were congratulating us; Andy was shaking Davey's hand, and pecking me on the cheek, when I noticed Linda trying hard to be happy for us, but the tears were obviously not far away, and I suddenly knew what it was; she knew I was Davey's sister, and now I was having something she could never have; I was marrying the man I loved, something she could never do.