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Watching Brad

A wonderful series of chapters leading up to the wedding. I wonder, what does the priest say to complete the sentence ... I now pronounce you, husband and husband? I sure hope he gets to say it, and Connie doesn't disrupt the ceremony. Surely she won't, not at this stage .... please confirm in your next chapter, I'm as eager to read it as the next Harry Potter!

P.S. Thanks for your wonderful writing.
 
Thank you for your comments, and I welcome my new fans as well. You humble me.

Actually, I was so afraid the entire wedding was going to be a disappointment. For one thing, I had no idea what the church in Toronto looked like, nor could I find out on the Internet. Secondly, I had no idea what a gay wedding was like, so I took a traditional wedding and faked it.

Most difficult of all, though, was telling you enough in the past few chapters to keep you 'clued in', yet not telling you anything which would spoil the surprises.

And now, with the honeymoon on the horizon, might I suggest that you fasten your seat belts? ;)
 
Why is it that I never cry at weddings and this one has tears streaming down my face? Bravo Neil. Keep up the absolutely brilliant work!
 
Dear Neil,

I thank you for having me enjoy reading again.

A Dutch fan

Ik hou van jou ( Dutch for "I love you")
 
gsdx said:
Please select the one which is appropriate:

Dank u
Dank je
Dank u wel
Dank je wel
Bedankt

(Thank you (*8*) )
Click to expand...
All of them will do...

A few more Dutch words and you can easy get around in Holland.

The land of the tullips, cheese and windmills
 
Someday I hope to have as nice a wedding. If I can ever find the right guy. I really enjoyed it.
 
I cannot imagine a more delightful ceremony than the one you have created for your lovable pair. You definitely hit all the bases, and gave us all a sense of being there, which is so characteristic in your masterful writing. The levity, such as Jeremy's announcing the call of nature, only increased the air of delight and conviviality. Neil, you are so good to share your abundant gifts with your friends.
 
This is an excellent chapter. It made me laugh and cry and sometimes at the same time. You do know how to tell a story and with loads of detail. I applaud you on a well told story.

Thank you so very much,
Ken
 
I've never considered myself to be a selfish bastard... but, I was spoiled by the 3 updates per week we used to get... a weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek is a long time to wait... anyone remember the Fri-Mon cliffhangers that used to "kill" us...

I have said all along, I love the stroy... the incestuous "dream" storyline freaks me a little as I am a twin, but other than minor differences... I wouldn't change a thing, even if I could...

Thanks for the great story and keep it coming at whatever pace we can get it....
 
WATCHING BRAD
Part 160​

And so, with those final words, Brad and I were married. I don't need a video recording of them to remember them. They still ring in my ear as though they were spoken only moments ago:

". . . by the authority vested in me by the Province of Ontario, I now pronounce you ‘husband' and ‘husband'. May you enjoy long days with each other, fulfilling your hopes and dreams, and finding peace and contentment of mind as travel through this life together. You may now kiss your groom."

As Brad and I drew closer, tilting our heads in opposite directions and bringing our lips together, I moved my hands from his own hands to his shoulders and grasped them, pulling him toward me. In turn, his hands moved up my arms to my elbows. For the first time ever, we kissed as a married couple, and it was exquisite. We kept the kiss politely short, of course, but it still drew the breath from my lungs. Brad was my husband and I was his, and I'm certain he was just as exhilarated about it as I was.

As we separated, Brad stared deeply into my eyes, fighting to hold back the tears in his eyes. "This is real, isn't it, Ted?" he said ever-so-softly. "I'm not dreaming it, am I? Please tell me it's real and I'm not imagining it."

"It's real, Brad," I told him, then leaned in for another quick kiss and digging my fingers into his shoulders to prove it.

This time when we separated, Brad looked down to his right and my gaze followed his. Jeremy was tugging once again on Brad's pant leg. "Are you my Daddy now?" he asked.

Brad was fighting desperately against the tears, as was I. "Yes, Jeremy, I'm your Daddy now."

Jeremy's face lit up with his smile, glowing with excitement on his lips and sparkling with happiness in his eyes. He looked at his twin brother and said, "Now we have Daddy and Daddy Brad!"

That's when Brad lost his battle against the tears. . . and so did I.

* * * * *

Strictly speaking, we weren't exactly and officially married yet. There was still the matter of signing the Marriage Register and having it witnessed. Somehow we managed to convince the twins to wait in the nave with Lindsay and Terry and their grandparents whilst Brad and I secluded ourselves away behind closed doors with the minister for the event. Bill and Warren, our witnesses as well as our Best Men, joined us there as well.

I hadn't noticed at the time, but I would be told later by Barry that Connie had quietly and discretely left the church shortly after Brad and I shared our first kiss as a married couple. He told me that she had dabbing at her eyes with a tissue as she had exited the church. Warren had been right.

The Vicar took us through our paces in his offices, filling us in on everything we would have to do to make everything officially ‘official' and then guided us through the process of signing and witnessing the Marriage Register. I was surprisingly calm, but Brad was so excited that he almost forgot how to spell his name. I watched with some amusement as he ultimately succeeded and set the pen on the table. We sat there, staring at our signatures for a few long moments, before turning to look at each other.

Brad looked at me and smiled proudly, and then he leaned into me to give me a quick and happy kiss on the lips. "There's no backing out now, Pops," he told me with a little smirk when he was finished. "You're stuck with me. Like it or not, I'm home to stay."

"I like," I replied with my own little smirk, and I added a wink for good measure.

Finally, with the certificate properly signed and witnessed and with the Vicar having given his final ‘lecture' to us, we prepared ourselves to meet our family and friends. Warren and Bill preceded us out into the nave with Warren riding in his wheelchair and being pushed along by Bill. The Vicar followed them out the door.

Brad and I remained in the wings behind the door which wasn't quite closed, staring into each other's eyes and waiting patiently for our cue to appear. Brad held my hand tightly and, for a few very brief moments, we were all alone. I could see him and feel him and smell him, and I could even hear his heart beating, and everything seemed right and perfect. Any reservations I may have had about marrying a man one-third my age disappeared in that moment. I was happier than I had ever been in my life and I was looking forward to spending the rest of my life with him. I had never loved anyone the way I loved Brad. What's more, I had never been loved by anyone the way he loved me. Nothing I could think of would have made me happier.

My mind travelled back for an instant to that night only a few nights ago when we were sitting on the stone wall behind our house when he had gone to stay with his parents. We sat there on the wall and Brad had said that he would have been happy if we did nothing else other than to hold each other as we were doing for the rest of our lives. He had been so incredibly correct. Granted, the sex we shared was indescribably pleasurable for both of us, but our lives didn't revolve around it. It simply wasn't necessary for us to be happy. We were happy enough just being in love with each other.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the Vicar said loudly, snapping my mind back to the present and to Brad squeezing my hand tightly, "please stand and join me as we welcome for the very first time. . ." (there was a rustling and shuffling of feet as our friends and family rose from the pews) ". . .Ted de Villiers and Bradley de Villiers Hayes, without a hyphen."

Brad had, indeed, found his own way to share his name with the twins when he adopted them. He had decided to keep his surname and to use my last name as well without hyphenating them. He would, in fact, officially have two surnames.

Now, I don't want anyone digging out their Emily Post turning to page such-and such and pointing and telling us that Brad's surname must come before mine, and they must be hyphenated in order to properly combine our names. Emily Post is as out-of-date as Disco Duck and bell-bottom pants. Besides, if you had been around Brad to watch him spending hour after torturous hour writing and rewriting his name in every combination imaginable before he finally decided on ‘de Villiers Hayes' without a hyphen, you would have seen how important it was for him to become a real father to Justin and Jeremy while still maintaining his own identity.

And so, on that Saturday afternoon in July, we heard Brad's new name used officially for the very first time: ". . . and Bradley de Villiers Hayes, without a hyphen."

Brad pulled the door open and we stepped through it and into the nave. The gallery erupted into wild cheers and joyous applause and whistles whilst Peter began playing an energetic and light- hearted version of The Beatles' When I'm 64. That was Brad's idea, apparently. He grinned at me, still squeezing my hand in his. He didn't have to tell me he loved me and, by his selection of music, he was telling me in his own way that he would still love me just as much thirty-one years from now. His eyes said it for him, and I believed him.

As Brook began to sing, his deep, baritone voice taking on a light-hearted and jaunty lilt:

When I get older losing my hair
Many years from now,
Will you still be sending me a valentine,
Birthday greetings, bottle of wine?
If I'd been out ‘til quarter to three
Would you lock the door?
Will you still need me, will you still feed me,
When I'm sixty-four?

Brad gave my hand a tug and away we went. With our photographer quickly back-stepping his way down the aisle before us and snapping photos, Brad and I followed him out the back door with the wedding party and our families quickly falling in behind us.

I won't bore you with the tedium of taking the wedding photos. Suffice it to say that Nathan once again worked his magic (as he would for the rest of the day) to see that things ran smoothly and we were finished in a prompt and timely manner. I feared that the twins would become restless in the heat of that afternoon, but they were so caught up in the excitement that I don't think they even noticed it. Brad and I, on the other hand, were constantly wiping beads of perspiration from our brows.

Soon enough, though, the limousine appeared in front of the church to whisk Brad and I away. Still, it was another half-hour or so before we were ready to leave. With everyone standing at the front of the church, framing the walk between the door and the back door of the limo where Bill and Warren and our chauffeur waited, Brad and I stood at the doorway, our arms entwined, and looking quite debonair in our black pants, white jackets, and periwinkle ties.

Dad was holding Justin in his arms and John Hayes was holding Jeremy. As Brad and I began our walk to the limousine, dozens of hands began tossing bird seed at us. The bird seed had been Lindsay's idea and had been cleared with the church beforehand. Coloured paper confetti wasn't allowed and rice had to be swept away afterward, but bird seed would be cleaned away by Mother Nature herself within minutes by the flocks of birds which would undoubtedly be attracted to the special July-afternoon treat..

We made our way through our family and well-wishers and stepped into the limousine and the driver closed the door behind us. Justin and Jeremy had wanted to ride with us, of course. In fact, they wanted to be everywhere we were and I was becoming concerned that we might not have prepared them enough for our absence whilst on honeymoon. There was even a few moments when I considered cancelling the honeymoon plans and staying home or even taking the kids with us, but Brad and I had rarely had time alone since he moved in and there would be precious little of it when we returned. I was quite looking forward to our time together. Indeed. The children would stay at home with their grandparents and Terry.

As we watched everyone hurried to their cars. Many would go directly to the hotel, but many would follow us in our wedding procession. Gareth, our limo driver, was a few years younger than myself and, like me, had also been born in Canada to immigrant parents. Both his parents, however, came from England - Manchester, to be more precise. Fortunately, he was one of those drivers who was able to enjoy the moment and to join the festivities rather than to be the stuffy and stodgy old driver who did nothing more than to earn his salary by driving the vehicle. Gareth drove carefully and slowly, allowing the others in our group to remain close enough to us to be part of the group, and he wasn't afraid to blow the car horn, announcing to anyone within hearing distance that a newly-married couple was passing nearby. It was clear that he was enjoying himself as much as we were.

Warren and Bill followed closely behind us and, beyond them was our van conveying our children and being driven by Terry. Beyond the van and beyond our vision were our parents who were, in turn, followed by a number of our friends and family.

Our procession made its way from the church and across the Don River into downtown Toronto on our way to St. James' Park near the Eaton's Centre for another series of photos. I always loved that park and, after seeing it, Brad had agreed that the beautiful, well-manicured gardens and the water fountain and the gazebo would make wonderful backdrops for our more casual wedding photos.

Most people continued on to the hotel from the park instead of enduring the heat and waiting whilst the photos were taken, so it was pretty-much only our families and very close friends who stayed with us. Barry and Nathan carried in a Coleman cooler which was filled with ice and bottled water for anyone who wanted some. As we waited for the photographer and his assistants to get themselves set up, Mom and Dad greeted Brad into the family and I was greeted into the Hayes family by John and Bernice. There were plenty of hugs and kisses all around.

We were sitting on a few of the benches in the welcomed shade provided by the gazebo. The twins sat in our laps and sharing some cool, refreshing water with us. Lindsay sat on the bench beside me, still holding her bouquet in one hand and leaning against my arm. Terry was there, of course, as were Warren and Bill, and Mark was standing with Barry. Mom and Dad sat with John and Bernice.

"Are you okay, Sweetheart?" I asked my daughter.

She nodded her head against me. "I'm just happy, Daddy."

"You look so pretty today," I told her. "And I'm very proud of you."

Her hand moved to the back of her head where her fingers toyed lightly with her hair. "Is my hair still curly?" she asked me.

"It sure is, Sweetheart," I told her. "It's perfect and it's beautiful, just like you are."

She lifted her head up to look at me and smiled. I bent my head down and gave her a kiss, then wrapped my arm around her back. "Thank you, Daddy," she said sweetly and settled against my arm once more as Justin wriggled himself around on my leg to lean his back against my chest. He sipped at a bottle of water. Between the three of us, we emptied a bottle of water before the photographer was ready.

* * * * *

The air conditioning at the hotel was a welcomed relief and I was so happy that we didn't have to go back out into the heat again the rest of the day. Reservations had been made at the hotel for our families and the entire wedding party except for Mark. He would be going back home with his brother later that evening. The rest of us would stay at the hotel overnight so that Brad and I could be up and away early enough to catch our flight out of Pearson in the morning and everyone could be there to see us off..

Nathan once again kept things organized and moving smoothly and properly and, before long, we were all gathered for the receiving line. Since there was no ‘bride' per se, we had to fake it. . . more or less. We decided to keep the line as short as possible and, to that end, there was only Mom and Dad, John and Bernice Hayes, and then myself and Brad. The others - Bill and Warren and Terry and the kids - sat nearby with Barry, Nathan, and Mark.

Cali and Mags were the first through the line and they greeted our parents before reaching us. Cali stood in front of us and wrapped an arm around each of us, pulling us close to her and hugging us with a strength which surprised me. "I'm so glad all that shit with my ex is finished and done with so I can be here. I was so afraid we were going to miss this." She leaned away from us far enough to give of us each a kiss on the cheek and allowing us to kiss her back. She looked from me to Brad and back to me again. "I can't imagine either of you being happy with anyone else but each other." She pulled us into another hug and added, "You take care of each other and make sure you don't do anything to screw this up." With a pat on our backs, she smiled at us and stepped away, allowing Mags to move into place.

Following the obligatory peck on the cheek, he said, "Congratulations, Ted."

"Thanks, Mags."

"I wish we didn't live so far away anymore. I miss you guys so much."

"We miss you, too, Mags," I assured her. "You know you're always welcome."

She nodded, and that's when I noticed the missing member of the family.

"Where's Tyler?" I asked.

"I think he's over with Lindsay and the boys."

"How's he making out in the new place?" I asked.

"He's a kid," she said with an easy smile. "He adapts. Much easier and faster than we do, I'm afraid."

I smiled back at her. "Kids always do. And then they grow up."

"Yes," she replied. "There should be a law, shouldn't there?"

With a final smile, she turned to Brad and I turned to our other guests. JW and his wife came next, followed by the rest of my co-workers and their invited guests. Mark's older brother, Jamie, brought up the rear of the group. I was actually surprised that Jamie accepted the invitation. He hadn't been at all pleased that his brother had been selected to be in the wedding party and he hadn't. Still, I hadn't selected Mark. Brad had done that, and Brad didn't really know Jamie well enough to call him his friend let alone to ask him to be an usher in his wedding. I guess Jamie understood that in the end and that was why he made an appearance.

Then again, he might have come only because his parents made him bring Mark.

Lori and Brad Smith, accompanied by David, came through the line. Andrew had been left at home with the sitter. Lori didn't kiss me, but shook my hand, as did her husband. "That was the most amazing wedding I've ever seen," she said to both of us.

"Thank you," we replied in unison.

"Are all gay weddings like that?"

"I don't know," I told her with a grin. "This is only the second one I've ever been to and I really wasn't paying much attention to this one."

"I don't know why," her husband added, "but I expected to see a bunch of protesters standing outside the church holding placards and shouting all sorts of nasty things."

I smiled and responded, "This is Canada. The only thing we protest is a government price increase on a case of beer."

Brad Smith chuckled politely until my Brad added, "But we only protest that until the beer stores open up."

That brought a laugh to everyone within hearing distance.

Brad and Lori continued talking to my Brad as David greeted me and rose to his tiptoes. He whispered into my ear. I listened to him and then I nodded and listened some more. When he finished, I looked at him and said, "Sure, okay. As soon as we up finish here."

"You won't forget?" he asked.

"No, I won't forget," I assured him.

David smiled at me. "Thanks," he said, then stretched up on his tiptoes once more to kiss me on the cheek before moving on.

More friends and relatives arrived including Brad's Aunt Mae, his mother's only brother's widow, who flew in from Florida the day earlier. There was his Uncle Peter and Aunt Kay (his father's brother) and his cousins, Barbara, Connie, and Michael. Another of Brad's cousins, Randy, came with his wife, Carmen, but his aunt and her husband had refused to even return the RSVP. Brad hadn't been surprised at that, considering the strained relationship he had with his Aunt Mary, but he was obviously elated to see his cousin again. Randy, who was at least my age, gave Brad a solid, manly hug. "I'm so sorry Mom's being such an ass, Brad," Randy told him. "Dad and I tried to change her mind and come, but she was too busy telling us you were condemned to Hell to listen to us." Brad put up a good front, but I could see the pain in his eyes.

The receiving line didn't last much longer - Randy and his wife were near the end - and, before we knew it, we were finished and being lavished with heaps of hugs and kisses by our parents. A quick glance at my watch told me that we still had over an hour before dinner would be served, so now was the time for a bit of mingling and to keep a promise I'd made.

Our priority at that moment, though, was the kids. We may have been newlyweds, but we were still, first and foremost, parents. Lindsay and Tyler were sitting together, chatting quietly with each other and examining the blossoms in Lindsay's bouquet. The twins had been sitting impatiently beside Warren and Bill until we approached, at which time they climbed to their feet on the chairs and made it very clear that they wanted to be picked up.

Both Brad and I received enormous hugs from our respective twin and then mine puckered up his lips for a happy kiss. When I gave him one, he gave me another enormous hug in return. "Are you still hot?" I asked Justin.

He shook his head ‘no'.

"Want to take off your jacket?"

He leaned back a bit and ran his left hand down his little chest. "No," he replied as he looked down his body. "Ouma said I look pretty."

I let him keep his jacket on.

Bill arrived moments later with beers in plastic glasses for both Brad and myself. Whilst balancing a small boy with one arm on one hip, we used the other arm to raise our glasses in a silent toast to each other and then we drank to it. With a small, gentle, and happy chipped-tooth smile, Brad leaned in for a kiss which lasted much longer than any of the other kisses that day, and it was filled with so much passion that, when it finally ended, it left me gasping for breath and licking my lips. Even in our most private moments, Brad had never been so mind-numbingly passionate.

I have since seen photos of that kiss and, to be very honest, there was nothing objectionable or improper in it. It was just a kiss, but it was filled from beginning to end with Brad's love for me.

As I stood there, staring at Brad's handsome face and piercing green eyes, I felt a large, strong hand on my shoulder. I tore my gaze away from my new husband to find Bill standing there. He spoke only four short words to me, but they could have filled twenty-four volumes:

"Never doubt him again," he said quietly.

* * * * *

"Excuse me," the young bellhop said. "Mr. de Villiers?"

"Yes," I told him.

"There is a phone call for you, Sir. If you would follow me, please?"

"Oh, sure," I said as I set my beer on a table and handed Justin over to Brad. "Be right back," I told everyone around me. "Probably Gran calling the hotel when she couldn't get me on my cell."

I followed the young man across the floor and out the double door of the rented ballroom, then down a short hall and was directed to a bank of white courtesy phones on the right-hand side of another hallway. "Any of those phones will connect you with the front desk, Sir," the bellhop offered. "They will connect your call."

"Thank you," I said. As he turned away, I shoved my hands in my pockets and said, "Hey, wait." It was then that I realized I didn't have even a single penny on me. "Ooo, sorry," I said with a great deal of embarrassment as I pulled my empty hands out of my pockets.

"That's okay, Sir," he said with an understanding smile. "Don't worry about it. It was my pleasure."

Before I could respond, he turned and hurried down the hall. I watched him for a few moments and then turned toward the phones. I'd only taken three steps forward when a familiar voice sounded from behind me:

"There's no phone call, Ted," the voice said. "It was me."

To Be Continued​
 
Another lovely cliff-hanger youv'e got us in! Connie perhaps?
I'm a little confused. How can Brad be one-third Teds age? Isnt Ted 33? (64-31) and Brad is about 20?
 
sheep said:
Another lovely cliff-hanger youv'e got us in! Connie perhaps?
I'm a little confused. How can Brad be one-third Teds age? Isnt Ted 33? (64-31) and Brad is about 20?
Click to expand...

Oops. Good catch, Sheep. My mind was thinking 'one-third younger'. It didn't come out that way. Sorry.
 
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