Chapter 30

The day before our wedding arrived, Boris drove us into Alpendoorn where I confirmed our reservation at the De Prin Hotel. Lana wanted to see the room where we’d spend our wedding night, and I declined, saying I can’t see her in her wedding gown. She laughed at my reasoning and agreed.

We walked to the church and decorated the aisle end of the pews with homemade paper flowers. Standing by the alter, she touched the chair she will sit on and pointed to mine, slightly ahead of hers.

She turned to me, taking my hand, “Ik doe.”

“I do.”

I smiled, memorizing as many Dutch words as I could. “Ik ook, I do too.”

“Ahh, just the couple I was hoping to see.”

“Ahh, alleen het stel dat ik hoopte te zien.” We turned to see Father Dekker approaching us, and beside him, Padre Wilson.

“This gives us a few moments to go over the steps leading up to and including your wedding. I am pleased that you have decorated for the great day.”

“Dit geeft ons even de tijd om de trap naar en met jullie bruiloft te overlopen. Ik ben blij dat je hebt gedecoreerd voor de geweldige dag.”

“Am I ever glad to see someone I know,” I said, shaking Padre Wilson’s hand. “I want to introduce you to my future wife, Lana Van Den Muir.”

“Het is een eer je te ontmoeten. Richard sprak vaak over je toen hij herstellende was in het ziekenhuis. Je trouwt met een goede Canadese jongen.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you. Richard spoke often of you when he was recovering in the hospital. You are marrying a good Canadian boy.”

“I didn’t know you spoke Dutch.”

“Occupational hazard,” he smiled.

“When Father Dekker contacted me and invited me for a visit, he told me you were marrying the girl you met. Lana is very beautiful, I might ad.”

“Thank you, Padre. I know this is short notice, but will you stand with me tomorrow at our wedding?”

“I would be honoured. I was going to offer my services, as a friend, that’s why I brought my number one uniform.”

“No disrespect intended, I’m not wearing my uniform for our wedding. Lana and I agreed the pictures taken would always remind us of the war.”

“I understand perfectly.”

As we spoke, Father Dekker interpreted to Lana in a low voice.

Lana motioned it was time to go, going to Padre Wilson and kissing his cheek. Thank you. He tried to ignore the rather deep cleavage she was displaying.

“I’m staying at the De Prin Hotel. Could you meet me about six in the outdoor cafe and we’ll have dinner together?”

“Six, it is.” We shook their hands and left.

We met up with Boris and Benthe at the hall where our reception will be. It was decorated with the same white paper flowers, our names spelled out over the head table. Benthe had conferred with several of the wives, and the meal was going to be a giant potluck offering. There would be plenty to drink and a small four-piece band to play music.

Boris said it was time to go home, so Lana and I kissed and hugged our last time as single people.

“Ik zie je morgen om vier uur, mijn liefste.”

“See you at four tomorrow, my love.” She handed me her wedding rings, closing my hand around them and kissing it.

I waved to them, then went to my hotel, where I cleaned up and rested. The silence of being alone gave me time to reflect on my place in life. Stepping onto the semi-circular balcony, it was nice to hear and see the birds chirping. They always flew away when there was a battle going on.

Below me, an old diesel truck was carting away another load of broken bricks and splintered wood. The clean-up and rebuilding from the ravages of the war would take months, likely years. The truck reminded me I promised to help Boris with the same, reclaiming of Vaassen from the war.

I rested a while, then put on my shorts because of the warm summer afternoon. I did as Lana requested, leaving my cock and balls out of my underwear. I inspected my new bulge in the mirror, and the outline of my cock was certainly easier to see. I slipped my cock and balls out of my shorts, seeing they hung just below the edge of my shirt. I didn’t have the nerve to walk in public like that but wondered if Lana would want me to. I stroked my cock a little, thinking of her and giving it some life, slipped them back in my shorts and smiled at the bigger lump.

I went to the outdoor cafe that was part of the hotel, where I met Padre Wilson. We shook hands and sat. I noticed her was wearing civilian clothes and his hat, the white collar giving away his occupation.

We started to chat when a waiter came to us. “Een fles rode wijn, alstublieft.”

“A flask of red wine, please,” I tried to say.