The Affectionate Player - Part2

Chapter 23

"Jeez, I don't blame them. Ten hours in his Porsche at seven months pregnant?"

"I know! They're giving themselves three whole days to get there and he's booked them into a spa hotel every day."

"Nice! I should have him to talk to Josh. See if it rubs off!"

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My mother had been nothing short of God sent, having liaised with the priest on our behalf until Max and I could finally meet him in person – not the normal scenario but with us talking a few times with Reverend Black on Facetime, he'd commented how happy we appeared and was sure we had prepared ourselves for the lifetime commitment we were embarking on.  I'm certain he was referring to Holly and to the fact we were already living together but respecting our relationship and all that comes with modern day living, he'd been extremely considerate agreeing to marry us.

Mum had also secured at short notice Catriona Allan, our village florist. Upon realising it was the wedding of local boy turned Hollywood star, Max Jacob, wild horses hadn't stopped her from accepting our request, rearranging her holiday plans and going so far as to announce it on her website and Facebook page. I could only imagine the flood of business that would follow just from the association. That said, I've always been a firm believer in supporting local businesses and can think of no better way to support them.

And then there was dad, bless him. He'd taken care of the cake and catering. His old colleague Belle Taylor, a keen culinarian, had travelled the world in her late forties and savoured its cuisine, returning to her homeland some five years later. That was ten years ago and deciding life was too short to spend any more time cooped up in a courtroom, she'd jumped ship to pursue her dream of opening a restaurant in Edinburgh.

With its growing success Belle had later expanded opening a second less formal dining room in Glasgow, obtaining Michelin star after star along the way. My parents had kept in touch over the years and eaten in both establishments several times so when dad had approached her she'd happily agreed to cater for us. And I know it had come at a ridiculous cost to dad, with Max insisting to no avail that he pay for it.

"It's twenty grand, Gracie! Does he not see we should be paying for our own wedding?"

"Max, darling. One thing you'll learn about my father if you haven't already, is that he's a very proud man. He was furious not to mention mortified when Andy refused his savings all those years ago, so please can you just allow him to do this one thing? It's what most daddy's do when they have daughters. They plan for it their whole parental lives. The walking down the aisle, the giving away. You keep this up and he'll about turn me at the altar!"  Grinning he'd pondered that thought.

"How tempting," he'd muttered, followed quickly with, "he wouldn't!"

"You want to risk it?"

"But I've plenty of money. I shouldn't be..." Placing a finger on his lips I'd silenced him.

"And if it was your daughter? I dare you to say you'd let your future son in law wave his wallet around because it had more fifties in it than yours." Growling, he'd given up knowing I was right.

"Well, I'm paying for everything else!"

"Not my dress. Mum wants to do that."

"Jesus, Gracie! Is there no end to this?!"

"You're not going to win this argument."

"OK! OK!"

"Good wee boy," I'd teased, winking.

"Well at least let me gift you something." Having given me so much already I'd almost said no but reluctantly I'd agreed to pacify him.

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