Cousin Margo’s wedding
IT was a cold October morning when my cousin Margo’s beautiful ivory floral envelope containing a wedding invitation arrived into our rusty post-box. I know for some people collecting such post could potentially ruin the rest of their day. The thought of the expense and time. The gift for the couple, a day off work, accommodation for the night, outfit for the day, not to mention just not wanting to go, and then possible guilt about not going. I understand this, my husband is often one of this group.
However, I look forward to most weddings. Opening each invitation with some excitement and determination that the day will be great. After all, weddings are a little holiday from the routine of everyday life and a chance to meet all sorts of people on a day when everyone’s looking their best and in most cases, in good form too. No refereeing children’s fights or preparing meals. Delicious food, my husband and I enjoying ourselves and watching the two people get married. Relieved that we’ve got this far ourselves in one piece.
In my opinion, there’s only one thing that has real potential to put a dampener on any day (outside of the biggest party pooper of all time, the coronavirus) and that’s the table plan. Who a person is seated with at the reception really is a sort of lottery, one I’ve nearly always been lucky in.
I opened the envelope and read the details, simultaneously admiring the calligraphy. It said December 21st. A Christmas wedding in a gorgeous little church in Kerry. Immediately the non-quitting romantic in me thought of snow on the day, though of course we hardly ever get snow in December here in Ireland. Christmas is a busy time, but I decided to have everything organised and begin the holidays on December 21st. “Margo and Patrick together with their parents invite you…” it read, and then it occurred to me that I had never met Patrick and had unintentionally not spoken to Margo for about ten years. She lives in London and is eleven years younger than me, so we have less in common. With cousins scattered all over the world, weddings are a good opportunity to catch up, well they used be pre Covid-19.
The day rolled around very quickly, we headed for Kerry all dressed up, driving in an unusually pristine car. It wasn’t snowing, but was one of those sunny crisp cold days and anyway, snow would of course have hampered travelling. The wedding ceremony was perfect. Margo looked fabulous in a lace fishtail dress. Patrick was looking handsome too. There was an interesting mix of style among the guests.
Having arrived at the beautifully decorated hotel with its red carpet and enormous Christmas tree, I was thoroughly enjoying the day and it seemed most people around me were too. We were in the foyer of the hotel having drinks when the dinner bell rang. Then, there was the usual end of school like surge of people making their way towards the dining room. Everyone hungry and ready for dinner after an early start to the day.
I caught a glimpse of the big board with the table plan. Walking towards it I could see each table had instead of a number, a place name that had some significance to the couple. One table was named Clonakilty, apparently that’s where they had got engaged. Then I saw Miami where we were to sit and my heart sank. Cousin Frank was at Miami too. I hurried to the table - there was still a chance we could sit at the opposite side, no such luck, there were place names. Frank was on my right. For a second I considered trying to change it. Then, irrationally, I decided Margo didn’t like me and finally I resigned myself to making the best of it.
The last time I spoke to Frank was at an aunt’s funeral six years ago and he had literally nothing to say. Whenever I asked him a question the answer was either yes or no. I remember asking him if he was still working at Tesco’s and he answered simply “yes.” Those large round wedding tables are too big to talk to anyone on the opposite side. At least my husband is on my left, I consoled myself. That’s when I noticed that John Buckley was on his left and I knew they’d be nattering all evening.
As it turned out, Margo’s wedding was very memorable. The conversation at the meal was most interesting and enlightening. It mainly centered around the subject of robots and Artificial Intelligence, one in which Frank is now studying for a doctorate.