Page 26 of Fatherhood Fever!


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He nodded, momentarily too choked up to speak. He loved his mother. He wanted her to be happy for him. It was probably the idea of him suddenly belonging to someone else that had upset her. Once the marriage was fact...

The raised sound of commotion outside the church distracted both of them. “The cars must have arrived,” his mother murmured.

Matt checked his watch. Eleven o’clock, on the dot. Relief poured into a quickly rising sense of elation. Everything was fine. Peta wanted this marriage as much as he did. She was right on time.

The guests who had waited outside for the arrival of the bridal party started trickling into the church. First amongst them was Father O’Malley who’d been greeting those he knew at the church door. An old family friend, he’d married Peta’s parents and had officiated at all the Kelly christenings and marriages since then. Peta had insisted on having him conduct their wedding ceremony, though he was now in a retirement home and, in Matt’s private opinion, a bit on the vague and doddery side.

He beamed benevolently at Matt, and fussily ushered him and Tony to their positions in front of the altar, ready for the entrance of the bride. “Big day, big day...got to get it right,” he babbled to himself, the excitement of the occasion causing him considerable nervous agitation.

The strain on Matt’s nerves had eased. He felt quite calm, watching the guests settle themselves in the pews, nodding and smiling at friends, his secretary, other highly valued employees. Peta’s mother, accompanied by her eldest son, Paul, was the last to take her place. There was a happy hum of anticipation in the church. It started to tingle through Matt as the music began.

His gaze flipped over the two flower girls leading the procession down the aisle—Paul’s daughters, decked out in cream and gold like little princesses. It fastened on Megan, Peta’s sister and matron of honour, a pretty blonde who had a subtle way of getting what she wanted. Peta’s bold spontaneity obviously pained her.

She’d pasted a smile on her face that glittered as brightly as her golden dress, yet to Matt, it had a false brightness. He’d sensed a reserve in Megan from their very first meeting and it hadn’t gone away. Whatever her reasons, she was no more in favour of this marriage than his mother was.

But it didn’t matter anymore.

Peta was here.

As Megan stepped up from the aisle, leaving his view of Peta and her father unimpeded, Matt’s breath caught in his throat. His bride... It was a moment of utter enchantment. She looked like some magical, medieval queen moving regally towards him; her high-necked, long-sleeved gown sheening her curves with deep cream satin, moulding her fantastic figure to her hipline where a band of pearls and gold braid held a skirt that fell in graceful folds, gradually flowing out into a long train. A similar pearl and gold band encircled her hair, supporting a veil that floated around her face, giving it an air of seductive mystery.

His heart seemed to swell. Her stunning femininity called to everything male in him. He wanted to lay the world at her feet. He wanted to hold her safe from all hurt. Like the knights of old he’d do battle for this woman. She was a queen...his queen.

Her father released her and she stepped up to stand beside him, offering her hand. It was trembling. Matt suddenly felt the gravity of what they were doing—pledging themselves to each other, entering an intimate togetherness that would span the rest of their lives. All that had gone before was ending now with the vows they were about to exchange, and he was acutely conscious of the responsibilities he was undertaking as he took his bride’s hand in his.

Through the filmy veil misting

the vivid beauty of her face, he saw the deep blue sea of vulnerability in her eyes, and silently, fervently promised her it would be all right. He would take every care of her. Her lips moved into a quivery smile and he sensed her trying to hold fear at bay, to bravely commit herself to him, and Matt was so caught up in transmitting reassurance, he barely followed the words of the ceremony.

There was some kind of general address about marriage from Father O‘Malley, readings from the Bible that he knew Peta had selected as meaningful to her—lead-ups to the serious business of sealing their promises to each other. Then the moment was upon him and he repeated each phrase intoned by Father O’Malley, his pulse thumping so hard it seemed to roar in his ears.

“I, Matthew Jeremy Davis...take you, Peta Mary Kelly...”

He completed his part and to his utter bewilderment, the gravity of Peta’s expression started to disintegrate, first with a twitching smile which she couldn’t suppress, then her eyes dancing with unholy amusement, finally a giggle which was so inappropriate it sparked panic in Matt. Was she struck with some form of hysteria? Did it mean she was about to back out?

He had the ring in his hand, ready to slide it onto her finger but she was holding her palm up to stop him. The effort to control herself was obvious. A few titters ran around the congregation. Nervous reaction to imminent disaster, Matt wildly reasoned. He himself was paralysed by it.

The priest hadn’t noticed anything amiss. Peta leaned over and grasped his arm, halting him in the midst of, “I, Peta Mary...”

Halting him before he came to declaring them husband and wife!

Matt’s heart dropped like a stone.

“Father, I think you’d better do Matt’s vow again,” she gently advised him. “It got a bit muddled. You just guided him into promising to be my wife.”

“Oh!” Father O’Malley looked mortified. “Oh, my goodness! I do beg your pardon, Matthew. My eyes must have skipped to the next vow. They’re not as sharp as they used to be. I was thinking Peta will make a wonderful wife...good stock, you know, the Kellys...”

Relief burst into a grin that almost rioted into a peal of laughter as Matt’s whole body churned from despair to a bubbling sense of the ridiculous. “It’s okay, Father,” he had to choke out. “Let’s rerun it.”

Peta was biting her lips through the whole repetition. Her shoulders were shaking. She kept her eyes downcast and Matt knew she was brimming with laughter. It was all he could do to keep serious himself. This time, however, her hand was spread ready to receive the wedding ring and Matt felt a huge well of satisfaction as he slid it home.

Then it was Peta’s turn. She took a deep breath, stared fixedly at his mouth, spoke each phrase with a tremulousness that bordered on breaking down, then lifted her gaze with a look of twinkling triumph as she enunced the last words... “... Your lawful wedded wife.”

They grinned at each other, a mad zany grin that wiped out all the nervousness of doubts and fears. Laughter broke all barriers, Matt thought exultantly, and as they were finally declared husband and wife, he felt a bonding that went far deeper than words, a sense of sharing that would take them through every trial and tribulation. They could always laugh together.

“You may kiss the bride.”

Matt lifted Peta’s veil. He knew it was supposed to be a dignified kiss. A cavalier sense of mischief seized him. He bent Peta over his arm in exuberant tango style, ravished her astonished mouth, and before she could catch her breath, scooped her off her feet and weighed her in his arms like a pirate appraising his booty.

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