Page 99 of Full Mountie

Stew and Adrienne arrive with their boys all dressed up and hair combed. I’m always impressed how well behaved those kids are—because Stewart’s told more than a few stories. Mostly about the twins switching places.

It takes another fifteen minutes for everyone to take their seats. Ellie gets on the gondola at Base Camp at ten minutes to eleven, and when she steps off, it’s exactly the top of the hour.

“Everyone’s pretty much seated,” I tell them. I extend a hand toward Ellie’s parents. “Could I show you the way?”

Hugh stays with Ellie, and I guide them outside. Sasha’s talking to Gavin’s niece, who was handing out programs, and I nod for her to join Ellie around the corner, where they’ll wait for the music to change before proceeding down the aisle.

Once Mr. and Mrs. Montague are seated, I take up a position on an elevated step near the entrance to the lodge, where I can see everything but still hear communications over my ear piece clearly.

The guitarist starts playingJesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring, and everyone stands, chairs shifting and feet shuffling. Sasha walks down the aisle first, looking every inch the beautiful socialite she pretends to be most of the time. As she curves to her designated maid-of-honour spot, Gavin moves to the top of the aisle, naked anticipation on his face.

I’ve seen this man in every way possible. Diplomatic and every inch a world leader. Under pressure to get the job done, no matter what. And more personally, too. Literally naked and horny for his woman. Before that, lusty and distracted, desperate to not want her as much as he did.

I’ve even seen him head over heels in love with her, day in, day out, and still, none of that holds a candle to the earnestness of his expression now.

The cellist joins in, the music soaring now, and Ellie turns the corner.

Behind her, I can see the curve of Hugh’s arm as he waits in the shadows.

The music is effective at setting a romantic, significant tone, clearly, because I find myself longing for him to appear before me.

And when he does, relief flutters bright. I always feel better when Hugh and Beth are close at hand.

“Friends and family, we are gathered today to mark the most special of occasions, the marriage of Gavin and Ellie. Together, we will witness the joining in the legal state of matrimony of this couple, according to the order and the custom prevailing, and under the authority given and provided by the Province of British Columbia.

“This couple has given serious and careful thought to this tradition, of binding themselves to one another, as allowed by the law of the land. They come to this union freely, equally, and with common rights. Their marriage will continue thusly, as a life-long companionship.”

My chest tightens as her words sail all the way to the back of the gathering. I’ve been to easily a dozen weddings, maybe more. I’ve never heard these words spoken this way.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Hugh doing a scan of the crowd. His gaze stops on Beth for a second, and the tightness gets worse.

I step silently, moving slowly around to the right, so I can have both of my lovers in my line of sight as the ceremony continues.

“They’ve spoken to me about their desires to raise a family together, to support and encourage each other in their work and personal endeavours. And they understand that to commit to one another in marriage is to share all that comes hence. Sickness, health, joy, sorrow, prosperity, and challenges.”

Each word is a weird prick against my skin. Nothing new, of course. You don’t get to be a forty-one-year-old bisexual man without realizing that your path to white picket fences is more convoluted than most, and who actually knows what the hell is at the end of the winding way, anyhow?

But there’s something in the officiant’s solemn reverence that slices unexpectedly deep, and I’m looking at Hugh, and looking at Beth, and it hurts.

A single skin prick is no big deal. A few are annoying. But too many, too close together, and you get a real wound.

And I don’t want to hurt today.

So I shake it off. Words have meaning, so I can toss back some pretty healthy words of my own. Freedom. Decadence. Private ecstasy. Twice as much love to share, double the arms to be held in.

As Gavin’s sister joins them at the front to read a poem that doesn’t rhyme, Beth looks over at me. Her hair sparkles in the late morning sun.

A soft cloud floats overhead, softening the brightness from the sky, but nothing can touch the brilliance of Beth’s smile. Her eyes are wet.

I love you so much. The promise reverberates inside me.

I don’t know if we’ll ever have a chance to say it in front of people like this, but tonight, I’m going to make sure she knows it to her core.

“Do either of you know of any legal impediment to this marriage?”

The officiant has returned to the ceremony script, and in unison, Gavin and Ellie respond with a practiced, “We do not.”

“There having been no reason given why this couple may not be married, I ask you to give answer to these questions.”

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