One last thing to do before running out the door at the office on Friday afternoon, taking a taxi to the airport for a flight to Melbourne for Penny and Pierre’s combined 50th/60th birthdays. Phew! I met Steve and the girls at the airport and Rhea and Lara were excited at the prospect of taking a plane for a weekend adventure. The flight was too short for movies but the colouring in booklet on a female superheroes theme was welcome, and you can’t beat a snack and a drink on a plane for intrinsic satisfaction. It didn’t quite live up to the standards of the five-hour flight to Perth in February though. Having finished her snack, Lara, who had already eaten dinner at the aiport, poked her biscuit wrapping in her cup and said ‘when’s the food coming? I’m starving!’
The girls were still hyped up when we arrived at Steve’s other sister Kirsten’s house. The pink roses were thick against the brick archway around the front door and it was a warm evening. It was then, standing in the entrance way chatting about who had arrived secretly from France and the Netherlands and how plans were progressing for the party the following night at their mother’s house that the other surprise let slip: Penny and Pierre were getting married the next morning!
In the morning the girls wore their flower girl dresses from Duncan and Becky’s wedding and we helped put together some small bunches of roses from the front archway for us all and Lola to carry. It was a lovely warm sunny day, no need for jumpers. I borrowed a white dress with red beading from Kirsten for the occasion.
The immediate family arrived first at the registry office in town, including one of Pierre’s brothers and his sister from overseas. We waited outside for a while and when we saw them arriving on foot his brother and sister hid behind a pillar. I didn’t quite see the moment Penny and Pierre caught sight of them but what I did see made tears come to my eyes. The reunion was pure joy.
The ceremony, like the last one we attended, had its funny moments as Pierre replied ‘yes’ instead of repeating ‘I do’ and Penny berated him for not being able to get it right even though there was so little required of him. Louis and Lola stood close by. Rhea and Lara sat themselves down in the front row.
Afterwards we had brunch in a European restaurant nearby; I sat next to my nephews Noah and son-of-just-married-parents Louis and immersed myself in the world of 11 and 16-year-old boys with discussions about the use of technology and extra-curricula activities. The three girls sat up at the bar.
I had a rest back at Kirsten’s house for a while, then washed the girls’ dresses by hand to get the chocolate stains out of them from brunch, hung them in the sun to dry then joined the others in the afternoon to help set up the glasses and put the drinks on ice. The kids were running around the party house, having a whale of a time.
I went to big parties like these as a child, a dress-up party when I was about 11 for my uncle’s 40th, held at my other uncle’s remote homestead located on the Gippsland Lakes; and a big garden party at my grandparents’ house in Melbourne for my grandmother’s 70th, fully catered for by the family, I remember the table being covered in trifles, sponges, and other cakes and desserts. We ran around like crazy at that age too, and when we were a bit older we buzzed with the excitement of it too.
The theme of this party was ‘red, white or blue.’ There were about 140 guests, including someone wearing a red and white-chequered tablecloth with about ten settings of paper plates, metal knives and forks, and real croissants sewed on it. There was also catering and a dance floor. After everyone had settled in, Lola stood at the end of the dance floor while some adults asked everyone to come closer because she had something to say. ‘I’ve got some exciting news. . . ‘ she started, but there wasn’t silence yet. ‘Shhh!’ And then: ‘My parents got married this morning.’ The crowd exploded with cheers.
Penny made a very funny speech, explaining that despite their very different taste in movies; different perspectives on tidying before the cleaner arrived; and sundry other foibles, Pierre was the man for her. With a nod to Brexit as one factor contributing to the decision to get married after being together for 26 years, Penny also wondered if the insight from the movie Four Weddings and a Funeral could have anything to do with it: that one day, you completely run out of conversation. When that day comes, a wedding will ensure that there are things to talk about. (One of my favourite quotes from that film is one of the characters saying something along the lines that ‘My views about marriage weren’t complicated. I thought I’d meet someone nice, like the look of her, hope the look of me didn’t make her physically sick, and, well, just settle down and be happy. It worked for my parents. Well, apart from the divorce. . . ‘)
People danced, we chatted, the night got colder so we gathered around the outdoor burners. Steve and I and the girls danced, Noah took photos as he had done during the day, and his brother was the DJ. At around midnight Lola and Lara conked out on the single bed in the spare room, sleeping facing each other, fully clothed and shod. We gathered Lara up, took Rhea too and went back to Kirsten’s house.
Two family weddings in one year. That’s pretty hard to beat.
