Chapter 19: Game Day

Interlude: 25^th Anniversary

Cindy:

When you plan a major event, there are usually a thousand last minute details. Mom says that they are why you hire staff. Dad, who actually hires staff, says that is when the staff earns their bonuses—or not. Whatever their thoughts about staff, the day of the wedding Mom and Dad slept late. I gather this was not the plan. Aunt Jo left instructions.

Aunt Jo did not sleep late. She and Aunt Francine had a fight. Both are seriously embarrassed about it and both blame themselves. You have to know the both to understand how odd that is. The only one that might know is Nanny CC. Good luck getting it out of her.

Siobhan:

Dawn came way too early, but I was in the yard to see it. That meant that I was up before five. I was not going to get anyone else up, but Christine has her own mind and Francine lives on caffeine. I wrote a note for Maria, saying someone (Elspeth) would be over about ten o'clock to get her fitted for the wedding. Christine and I donned our corsets and the three of us went to the Waffle House.

Francine made me nervous. The evening before she was unusually quiet, but surly when she spoke. During playtime with Maria, she had played submissive, which did not really suit her. When she lost the challenge, she was ungracious. At breakfast, Francine inhaled a couple platters of food and a full carafe of coffee, all in a pregnant silence. I checked with Christine, but she had nothing to share. Then Francine pulled out a phone and demanded to be picked up. That was clear enough.

Without Maria and Francine, the car was much less crowded, but no quieter. We had driven that way the night before, crammed three, then four, in a two seat car. Considering Francine's motor mouth personality, that said something. On one hand I was glad to be out of range. On the other hand, many of the wedding day staff came from Francine's companies. I was willing to give Francine room to work, but I had final say on all the details.

It was a say I needed to exercise immediately. The Amish are farmers. Predawn is already work time. Evaine Schaeffelker came to me with a steaming mug in her hands. The aroma of ham and sausage made me wish I could eat again, though the younger girls were already clearing the table. In minutes I was deep into an inspection tour and Francine was far from my mind.

The morning was well along before I caught sight of her again. By then I had put teams to work doing a final cleaning to the Ladies Parlor and the Smoking Lounge, directed the placement of the outdoor tables and begun setting the Fair into final order. The Amish women were kneading bread, the young girls and boys were cleaning the Ballroom, while the men were positioning the heavier pieces. My grad students were not up by dawn, but all of them were hard at work by eight o'clock.

About nine thirty, I saw Francine talking to several of her performers. I went over to find out what was up. As I approached, Francine waved her people away. I did not take that well. Soon Francine and I were in a heated discussion of who should be where, doing what and when. In retrospect, we were not disagreeing about anything, just demanding that certain things be a certain way. We assumed that the red faced woman in front of us was arguing, rather than talking about something unrelated.

The confrontation broke off abruptly. I spotted Justin Immons, whom I had been seeking. Francine left for her own reasons. Within minutes Justin and his reflectors pushed the spat out of my mind. What happened later was just me being stubborn.

Francine:

I woke as contented as I had been in years. There was good reason. Christine had given me two excellent orgasms and held me all night. Like my high from the party, the feeling did not last. The first thing under my skin was Siobhan being up. I always rise before everyone else. Seeing her reminded me of the night before. While Christine had done much to smooth things, I was still pissed at Siobhan. At some level I was aware that I was being unfair, but that didn't stop me.

I called Roxanna to pick me up. The night before I had not minded sharing the seat with Christine, but I felt differently at O dark thirty. When we reached the house I threw open the door of a still moving car. Rational people don't do that and the rational part of me knew it. I had to get away before I did something no one could overlook.

One thing about manors and mansions, there is a lot of room for pacing. I pace a lot. It helps me think. It lets me burn off excess energy. Often, it keeps me from screaming. I paced in circles, then back and forth, eventually along a path. When I almost paced into a horse's ass, I decided I'd gone far enough. An Amish boy, about twelve, stopped pitching hay to the horse so he could stare at me. It was ridiculous. I was being ridiculous. At the wrong end of a cart horse, I finally got a grip. Thank heaven I never started laughing, because Mother Mary only knows when I would have stopped.

Some people have therapy. I have work. When I came out of the stable tent, the sun was lighting the tree tops. That meant it was time to get the troops going. I pulled out my phone and started making calls. I think I only woke one person, though two other lines went to voicemail. None of them were people I worked with regularly, which gave me a cold satisfaction.

When I arrived, the Amish were cleaning up breakfast and no one else was in sight. Now they were busy on the final clean up. Before long, that horse would be hitched to a cart. Sean's people—I shied from thinking of them as Siobhan's people—were showing up in numbers. Only my crew was absent. At least I had a destination. I went into the house and found the storeroom that would serve as my wardrobe department. There was no lock, but a security man was standing nearby. I made a note to thank the head of security.

The next hour had a soothing familiarity. The best shipping always leaves things jumbled. I made a good start at getting things sorted. When one of my costume people showed, we worked together til another dragged in. I made a note which had been first and by how long. It rarely hurts when the boss is caught doing grunt work. It never hurts to know who else is willing to do it.

I went outside, planning on getting bearings for the performers. Unlike the set people, most of the performers would see the site for the first time that day. They needed to know their marks, entrance and exit points, routes to the prop room, permissible facilities and other mundane information. I was formulating a walk through when I ran into Siobhan.

The meeting did not go well. I started telling her that my performers would need to know the ins and outs. She started telling me something about the lighting for the ceremony. We talked over each other. Then we repeated ourselves, louder. It was a fundamental mistake. I was in charge of the acting crew, but Siobhan was the site manager. That made me her assistant. Shit.

Fortunately, Siobhan saw Justin, so I could escape while she dealt with tech stuff. I was irritated, again, at myself, again, concerning Siobhan, again. It was getting monotonous. So, I paced some more, then went to meet my first arriving talent. Somewhere in there, I caught a glimpse of Sheila, looking disheveled. I wish I could have laughed, but that was not the way things were unfolding. Instead I walked my performers through their entrances, marks and exits. Then I took them to wardrobe and repeated the process with the next group.

I was so far gone I never thought of food, til I saw a foil wrapped sandwich in someone's hand.

Sean:

Sleeping with Sheila was an adjustment. Like everyone else, she moved in her sleep. I found I did not like having her leg draped over mine, though I'd heard others speak lovingly of the sensation. However, waking up to Sheila was a joy. Seeing her, face unencumbered by the cares of life, had become my favorite thing. Angels are cliché, but Sheila would be the perfect subject for art in an angelic theme. The morning of her wedding was no exception.

Another cliché that worked was that grooms only have to show up on time, while brides need to be radiant. I hated to wake her, but it was past sunrise. Even in late May that meant oversleeping. I kissed her on the neck, putting some tongue into it. Sheila did her half of the cliché with style. She rolled over, gave me an enormous smile and pulled me into a possessive kiss. For my part, I had a drill instructor, disguised as a sister, to act as host. So I played with my fiancée for a while.

Sheila's shrieking was interrupted when my phone played Dixie, which was Gerald's ring tone. FedEx had delivered a package marked, "Attention: Sheila Schwartz. Wedding supplies." Sheila was already headed for the bathroom, so I told Gerald we would be down in half an hour. The package might be important, but so was shaving Sheila's easy to reach place. I wanted it baby smooth for later.

In the shower we discussed the timetable. After frantic weeks, I had unscheduled time for a few hours. Sheila was in a similar situation, though she had an early call for hair and makeup. The actual event was at six o'clock, with everyone in place at five thirty. Giving three hours for wardrobe, that still left us three whole hours. The party officially began at two o'clock, but we could squeeze in a few minutes to look around. After the ceremony was the Ball. I informed Sheila that our reservations allowed two hours before we left for the airport.

For someone as detail oriented as Sheila, I was surprised how accepting she was of all the things I told her. It was a weighty question to ask in the shower, but out it popped.

"Why are you so relaxed about all this?" I asked. Sheila put her hand on my face and led me to the shower seat. I sat and she sat in my lap. Her kiss was gentle and full of feeling.

She said, "I tried to think of everything. Then I realized I could never do it all, but I did not have to. I had you and Siobhan to take care of the details. That left me a manageable situation. As you recall, it went rather well."

Gerald said that Sheila could deliver a thirty minute brief in fifteen seconds. This was one of those times. The bottom line was she trusted me enough to relax. Everyone says they trust others, but how many act like it? It touched me. Had we not been almost to the altar, I would have proposed on the spot. What the hell. I said, "Marry me." Sheila did not take it lightly. She said, "I will."