A/N: No more author's notes.
Day 5 (Night):
It was a little while longer waiting for Katrina to emerge to walk down the aisle, and I patiently waited next to Randy and Peter shifting my weight from my heels to my toes in boredom. I had a long moment to observe my surroundings. I admit, I'm no wedding connoisseur, but even I had to say Katrina's outdoor venue was a way better choice than this lame bleach white chapel we had to resort to because of the rain. My sister had seemingly good taste in flowers, though, and she'd been the one to pick out my suit that had already scored me about eight compliments, three from people that didn't even know me.
Then the moment came, the organ sounded, the flower girl went ahead down the aisle first, the ring bearer went next as rehearsed. Mona and Vicky walked on either side of Peter since we were now short a Best Man. It was mine and Delancey's turn last. She came up and slipped her arm in the crook of my elbow, in the same magenta dress that hugged all those lovely curves, holding her tiny bouquet and her hair done up in a classic way only seen in old Hollywood films.
As the organ mused on, I bit the bullet, heart pounding, and leaned close to my lady's ear to whisper:
I squeezed her that was in the crook of my arm, all eyes on us, as we continued our trek down the aisle, Just do it. Take the plunge.
"You know I love you."
Delancey sighed as if in relief, tenderly smiling wide as she kept her eyes ahead.
"I love you too, Caz."
I felt her squeeze my arm and wanted to melt under her touch. My next words refused to come, and the end of the aisle was near. I had to force them out. Who knew when I would get another chance.
I stopped about three quarters of the way down the aisle, and grabbed her left hand. As the whispers resounding around me, I took the dice ring off her left hand finger and knelt on one knee to the ground. Everyone gasped, my parents the loudest. Delancey was more shocked than anyone, putting her hands to her mouth and taking a step back from me.
"Delancey… I should have committed to you a long time ago. I'm not making the mistake of losing you ever again. Will you…?"
I gulped. No turning back now.
"Will you… stay…. married to me?"
The word 'stay' hung up most of my relatives, who repeated it in whispers to one another in confusion. I shook as I held the ring out to her, awaiting her reply.
Delancey looked at me as if embarrassed for me.
"Of course, I will," she laughed, grabbing me to hug me. A few claps emerged from Randy's side of the family, which soon ignited the whole room. A twinge of guilt for interrupting my sister's big day hit me, but it was gone as soon as it came. I knew this was what she would've ideally wanted most as a wedding gift from me anyway.
I kissed Delancey on the lips, hard, my heart swelling in happiness. I was sad to separate at the altar, but I knew we had delayed the ceremony long enough.
As that excitement wore down, and the organ chimed the Bridal March once again, I realized it was the second time repeated and there was still no Katrina walking through those doors.
After the third time, Delancey grew concerned and without a word, hurried back up the aisle to the doors. People whispered again.
After a moment, Delancey reappeared, rushing back up to the altar again. She went straight to Peter and I, hissing so fast and harsh I could barely understand her.
"Don't make a scene, don't ask questions, just come with me, come now, come quickly…"
Peter immediately followed and I was at his heels. I saw my mom stand up to go too, but she hesitated.
As I burst through the doors, I was a whirlwind of emotions, worried for my sister's wellbeing, but happy for Delancey's warm hand leading me on. I soon realized we had gone past where my sister had rehearsed to be the waiting area before she went down the aisle, and I got really concerned then.
"Dee, where are we-?" I started, but she shushed me.
On and on we went, weaving through the casino crowds dressed to the nines in our formal wear. I couldn't help wondering if this was how Bond felt in public. I noticed Peter didn't look the least bit worried, or even confused, only determined, hustling his way through the masses with his eyes onward.
I soon realized we were heading for the front door of the hotel. The valet was pulling Peter's car around just as we arrived, and Katrina, in full wedding dress and veil blowing in the breeze, was waving at us frantically.
"Peter!" she called out. "Octopus! Octopus!"
"OCTOPUS?!" Peter shouted in a volume I didn't even know he was capable of. It was the kind of volume you only heard on teeny-boppers when they saw Justin Beiber. I had obviously missed something. I looked to Delancey for help.
"Should I know what that means?"
She didn't answer, instead put her arm around me, happily observing Peter sweep up my itty-bitty sister in his humungous arms and swing her around like a little girl.
"Kiss her!" she shouted, clapping giddily.
"Wait!" Katrina commanded, wriggling free of Peter's arms. "Not here, we've gotta get out of here before they find us! Quick! Get me in!"
I could only obey. We scrambled to stuff Katrina and all her dress fabric into Peter's tiny clunker, all of us running around like a Chinese Fire Drill.
"It's like trying to stuff a birthday cake through a mail slot!" I complained.
"Peter, really, YOU of all people have this tiny-ass car?" Delancey followed suit.
We finally got her and ourselves in just in time to spy my mother spotting us from the lobby. Peter spared no time peeling away from the hotel driveway, leaving them in the smoke of burned rubber and dust without another word. I could see my mother shouting angrily, waving her fist at us in outrage.
"Will someone please tell me what the hell 'Octupus' means?" I ordered.
"Well, you see, it's this eight-legged sea creat-" Delancey joked, but was cut off by me putting my hand playfully in her face to make her be quiet. We laughed, but soon silenced when we realized Peter was pulling into another driveway. One I soon saw was the same 24 hour chapel that Delancey and I had said our own vows in just the night before. I smiled.
I was surprised but overjoyed to realize that 'octopus' had apparently been the preset secret word for 'take off and marry me instead'.
After he parked the car, Peter gazed seriously at Katrina, taking both her hands in his.
"Katrina, I'm not complaining, but what about what you said before?" Peter asked with a furrowed brow. "About Randall and his parents coming after you for all that money?"
"Screw the money," Katrina smile at me with a wink, quoting what I had said to her this morning. "You can't put a price on happiness."
"Wait," Delancey said, reaching into her clutch and pulling out her wallet. "How much money?"
I saw her pull out a wad of cash and my jaw dropped,
"What the hell, moneybags? Where did you get all those Benjamins?"
"I happened to wake up on a few thousand dollars worth of poker chips this morning..." she laughed, pulling me over to her passionately by the collar and giving my lips a light brush with hers. "But I already won the lottery."
Day 6-7 (and beyond)
There was a real agreeable symmetry to having both of my sister's and my wedding photos match to an almost perfect uniformity. I insisted on having them copied and framed and placed on every mantle. Kind of ironic that I had ended up getting married first anyways, as Delancey loved to remind my mother at every family gathering.
My mother had eventually learned to accept all that transpired that week eventually… I mean, I suppose she had to. It felt kind of good that Katrina's epic public embarrassment in Vegas had brought her down to an equal level with me in my parent's eyes after that, and we were both just fine with that.
Peter traded in the tiny clunker for a truck and he and Katrina now live out in a modest little house that barely fits Peter through the door. It's out the boonies with a stack of animals and it seems to suit them fine. Delancey and I have dinner with them every weekend and it is the happiest day of my week. They are already expecting their first child next fall, though I would rather not imagine Peter having any sort of sexual relations with my sister. Not only is it a gross thought, it's a concerning one, since they differ so much in size, I fear for her safety. But I digress…
Randy actually ended up moving to New York with both of the stalker twins and apparently have some sort of unexplainable threesome arrangement thing going on Vicky, Cristina, Barcelona style. I don't know how that really works but it apparently works somehow so more power to 'em.
Delancey and I still have our problems, and we still have our fights, but we wouldn't have it any other way. This also leads to grand make-up sex, which seems to be the strong foundation on which our relationship is built. We're shacking up in a studio apartment near the beach, where she's finishing up school to be an environmental lawyer. And what am I doing?
I'm the happiest man alive with the hottest wife ever, and apparently, I'm writing now.
I hope you enjoyed this finally finished happy-ended tale! Please review.