Chapter 6: Vows

I sat on my towel on the folding chair, the sun beginning to set in the west. Reverend Irene Bailey, who turned out to be a big-hearted, open-minded woman in her 50's, was droning on a sermon about how marriage was all about declaring to society at large that you were in love and determined to support the one you loved in all manner of ways. I let my mind drift.

Irene Baily was the only one dressed. That's the way it often is, when the officiant isn't a naturist. I've had weddings at the Resort where the officiant, often a personal friend of the happy couple, also was a naturist, but as far as I was aware this was Irene's first trip to Barracuda Beach. She'd been impressed by what we had, though, and thought it might not be her last. She wasn't so sure of her teenage daughter, though. Privately I agreed. Teens who aren't raised Naturist tend to be hyper body conscious, which usually makes them want to cover themselves, and believe that in order to be nude they need to possess bodies from the supermodel template, only even more perfect - as if that was even possible.

I was smack dab in the front row, on the bride's side of the ranks of chairs. My wife was to my right, and to her right was the bride's mother. The woman, brunette like her daughter, wore little more than a sheen of the strongest SPF level of sunscreen to be found in all of the County of Manatee Bay. The bride's equally nude father had already escorted his blushing and happy daughter down the aisle to the small portable electric organ's tinny rendition of Wagner's traditional Wedding March. He now sat bracing his wife on her right. I noticed that Mommy Dearest was holding on to both her husband's left hand and my wife's right with death grips. Well, that was why I'd placed Rose there - to support the first-timer.

On the Groom's side of the aisle sat his parents, both unclad. I noticed that his mother seemed a bit more stiff-upper-lip about the whole thing than the bride's mother. I'd placed Linda Carruthers, the Resort's lawyer, in the seat beside that parent. The mother had more silver in her hair, but the hairdresser had worked a minor miracle and it looked more frosted than elderly.

Evelyn and Barry had given each mother a single rose, a symbol, they advised their mothers, of the love that the happy couple had each grown up with and hoped to share with offspring. This gift was, I thought, not the wisest thing in the world, as each nervous mother was certain to impale a palm on at least a couple of thorns. Evelyn's father held her rose, preventing his wife from bleeding all over her lovely pink 'gown'.

The bride looked radiant, wearing her veil and a pair of leather sandals. She clutched a bouquet in her hand. Her father had already noted that the bouquet wasn't large enough for his comfort, as she held it too high up to cover anything below her waist.

The groom looked proud and happy. In addition to his leather sandals, which matched his bride's, he had a tuxedo collar. And that was it for dress from the groom - but who really cares about the groom at a wedding? Most grooms could be nude as the day they were born and nobody would ever notice, as all eyes are usually on the bride.

Four ladies stood beside Evelyn, led by Matron of Honour Ruth Ginsberg. All were dressed in sandals and wearing a crown of flowers. Four gentlemen, led by Best Man Aaron Ginsberg, stood beside Barry.

Cute little flower girl Juanita Villanueva stood at the far end of the bridesmaids, and a boy I'd never met before - apparently a classmate of Juanita's that she was fond of - stood at the other end. He'd acted as ring bearer. Knowing that they were both under the watchful eyes of not only parents but every other adult at the Resort, both managed to behave themselves reasonably well for their age. Irene had better wrap this up quickly, though, as I could see the youngsters were getting restless.

Marcy, who had happily led the placement of these chairs we were sitting on, was in the back row somewhere, with her mother and little sister. I'd been surprised that her mother had shown up in response to the happy couple's invitation, and had even dressed in the same outfit as the bride, sans veil of course. When I gave the bride and groom's parents the Grand Tour of the resort, I'd invited her along - she might as well see where her daughter was working.

"And your sister and brother-in-law aren't here?" I had asked. "I looked forward to another demonstration of the Little Old Lady from Pasadena's driving skills."

Mary's response had been a gentle chuckle. "Oh, her spinning the wheels in the parking lot yesterday morning? Yes, she wasn't anxious to spend more time around naked men than she absolutely had to, so she and Herb send their regrets."

"Ah, but I wasn't naked - that would mean 'defenceless'. I was merely nude."

The gentle old plough horses had, of course, charmed the five of them, as had the children playing happily in the splash pad by the outdoor pool without a care in the world. The concept of a school on a naturist resort, and not one that took in only the children who lived at the resort, fascinated them. Mary had heard of this concept from her younger daughter Melissa, but hadn't been sure if the girl was exaggerating. Seeing is believing.

Jolting my thoughts back to the present moment, I noted that Irene was finishing her sermon by the beach. Yes, the two kids were very bored by now - and unless I missed my guess, so were the other kids in the audience behind me. The 'I do' part would perk up their attitudes, I thought. Sure enough, it did.

Finally, Irene Bailey instructed Barry, "You may now kiss your bride." He obeyed his instructions with as much grace as possible - I've found it very difficult to kiss someone on cue, in front of an attentive crowd, and make it look at all natural. The crowd 'ooh'ed and 'ah'ed and clapped appropriately, and the loving couple, dressed only in their love and a handful of trinkets, were turned by Irene to face the celebrating crowd.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Mr. and Mrs. Barry Lowery."

The bride and groom marched down the aisle to the Finale from Handel's Water Music as we all stood. Slowly a line began to form and snake its way in the general direction of the Resort's club room, for libations and congratulations.

The bar was open in the corner with a pair of my waitresses serving. A small table near the front door held a handful of wedding gifts which were artfully arranged to frame the signed marriage licence. The happy couple and their pleased parents were lined up at the doorway, welcoming in their guests, the same as at thousands of wedding receptions held every day around the continent. The only difference was that aside from casual footwear, everyone from the bride and groom down to the youngest toilet-trained youngster was dressed in the formal wear that they'd been born with.

It was also my chance to meet and mingle, at least as much as my other duties allowed. I noted that Barry's mother's left hand still held onto my wife's right with a vice-like death grip. As a result, Rose was an unintended addition to the receiving line. I assured her I'd handle things for the time being, and she should just be there to keep the obviously freaking-out mother of the groom as calm as possible.

My first meeting and mingling was with Mary Winter, mother of my newest employee. "And how has your afternoon been?" I enquired.

"Very nice. Tell me, honestly, how has Marcy been? Did she do a good job?"

"Honestly, she did a wonderful job this past week. She's put up with my teasing, and pulled her load. And I like to think she's learnt something, and not just about life in a naturist resort. She's found out that 'work' isn't a dirty word, and she's also learnt something about how to handle the curve balls life will throw at her."