It’s hard to explain what’s so special about your friends to somebody who doesn’t know them. I usually refer to Becca as my college roommate, because I did share a room with her for three of the four years that I spent in school. But that doesn’t quite cover it. A friend of mine who knew us in college recently gave a much better explanation when trying to explain our relationship to someone else:
“She’s the other half of Anna and Becca.”
At least it seemed more accurate to me. It might not have made sense to anyone else.
So, my darling Becca got married last weekend.
What’s up with that? Is it just me, or do other people feel like the rest of the world is growing up without them? I’m absolutely not getting any older, and for that matter, I’m only getting marginally better at pretending to be a grown up. But everyone else seems to be mastering adulthood with ease.
But maybe “seems to be” is the key phrase in that sentence.
“Ohh good. I’m glad your shins are all beat up because, look, I have this giant burn on my arm and a cut on my finger that won’t stop bleeding if I don’t wear a bandaid,” were some of the bride-to-be’s first words upon seeing me at the Friday-night rehearsal. “Also, I need your help with some espionage tomorrow morning. If you’re ok with getting up early. But don’t tell anyone. I’ll explain later.”
It didn’t quite turn out to be espionage in the traditional spying sense, but her plans for the next morning definitely fell under the category of generally sneaky business. So I was, of course, totally on board.
The problem was, it transpired, that the wedding ceremony was to take place just over the state line in New Jersey, but since they were getting a Pennsylvania marriage license, it had to be signed and the vows exchanged in Pennsylvania. Now, I know you are already seeing a million simple solutions to this problem (up to, and including, simply fudging the location or dates on the license) and I saw them too. So did Becca and her fiancé Mason.
“But this makes a better story,” Becca explained when we were in the car at 5:30 the next morning, on our way to the park to meet Mason and his Uncle Bob, who would be performing the ceremony. Both ceremonies actually. The solution to the marriage license problem was this: sneak out and get married really early in the morning, hours before the actual wedding. Thus the actual wedding would take place in Pennsylvania, and the date would right. My presence was required because Becca didn’t have a car, and Uncle Bob needed to be there to marry them. Nobody else came. It was lovely.
On the way back to her parent’s house, Becca and I stopped for doughnuts. We had decided that this was going to be our cover story if anyone else woke up and noticed us sneaking back in. I know going out for doughnuts at 5:30 in the morning on your wedding day doesn’t sound like the most likely scenario, but it makes perfect sense if you know us.