Only One

happy tears

I've always had a problem understanding why people cry when they're happy.

I've never understood what could possibly elicit that sort of reaction from someone. How is it possible for you to experience a joy so intense that it makes your throat dry and your eyes water? What kind of happiness could possibly cause you to literally overflow with that kind of emotion?

The two should be paradoxical, not concurrent. Even so, my older brother is getting married today and I already know there won't be a dry eye in the chapel. At least, that's what every other wedding I've attended has been like. Row after row, guest after guest, dabbing at their eyes with a handkerchief or a tissue.

I've spent all morning getting ready. Dottie, my brother's soon to be wife had hired Hilda, the most meticulous wedding planner I'd ever met. Each of the bridesmaid's had spent over an hour in the makeup chair before the artist had even started on their hair. As maid of honor, I had been the first to go through the whole process. I hadn't enjoyed the experience in the slightest, but being the first to be ready had it's perks.

I had been able to sneak out of the room before everyone started lining up to go check in on my brother. John was waiting by a small side door at the front of the church, in the small hallway that led to the organ. Once the music started to play, he would have to walk out onto the alter and wait for the bridal party to walk down the aisle in pairs until finally, Dottie would walk down accompanied by her father.

I sneak around the back of the church, lifting up the peach colored hem of the silk dress Dottie had picked out, making sure it doesn't get wrinkled so that Hilda doesn't rip me a new one. When I finally make it to the front of the church and push open the door into the small hallway, what I find makes me smile immediately.

"Drinking before noon? And in a church no less!" I tease in a tone of mock admonishment as John turns my way, doing a very poor job of concealing the flask he'd just taken a large sip from.

"Don't tell anyone." He says, with a devilish grin. "The boys have all been drinking since we first woke up. It's going to be a miracle if we make it through the wedding without one of them toppling over."

"I'd love to see the look on Hilda's face when that happens." I reply, making John laugh.

He takes another sip from his flask, and then offers it to me.

"You're a terrible influence, you know that?" I say, taking the liquor and downing some. It burns painfully as it sears down my throat making me cough slightly.

"Jesus Christ that's strong." I splutter.

"It's the good stuff." John chuckles in agreement, reaching out a hand to pat me on the back. "It was a wedding day gift from Bucky and Steve."

"Of course it was." I shake my head.

Leave it to those two to try and get John drunk before the ceremony even began.

"Are you ready for this?" I ask, handing the flask back to him. "I'd say there's still time to make a run for it but I doubt Dottie would let you get very far."

"No she definitely wouldn't." He answers, good-naturedly, lifting the flask to his lips to take another gulp. "I'm ready though. I've been ready for this since my third date with her."

I know my brother well-enough to know that he's telling the truth. He's been in love with Dottie since he first laid eyes on her. Had fallen head over heels before he'd even known her name. It had been one of the greatest pleasures of my life to have witnessed it all happen.

"I've never seen you this nervous." I comment, watching his eyes fall on the door just behind my shoulder that leads to the alter. "It's so precious."

"If you tell anyone that I'll kill you." He pretends to glare at me.