Ten

 

Townsend Wedding, Gretna Green

 

The secret to a happy marriage is to always keep his stomach full, and his balls empty – fact.

 

Brett

The day before the wedding…

 

It had taken a week to get it all prepared, but we’d done it. There was the dress, the rings, the clothes, the hotels, the travel, Cole’s morning sickness…it had been a week of hell. I refused to touch Sabine until she was my wife which she’d been pissed about until I explained that I’d done her wrong before, but now I was going to do it right.

 

Then Maya’s best friend Tony and his boyfriend, Lars, had arrived. Like they’d ever miss anything, including the birth of all of the babies in the family. Even though Tony hadn’t wanted to witness them, he’d been up front and center for all of them and had seen just as much as the doctors had. Every time someone mentioned taco Tuesday now, his eye started twitching and he turned a weird shade of green. I felt bad for the guy, but at the same time he put himself in the situation…

 

So, here I was with balls so blue that even Papa Smurf would wince and it wasn’t just through lack of use. It was fucking freezing here. Scotland had the type of cold that went right through you to your bones. And the wind, a lot of it coming from Gramps as always, was insane.

 

It was now the night before the wedding and although they were used to doing quickie marriages, they were also no strangers to the planned drawn out weddings too. As ours was a mixture of both, we were having a rehearsal. At least, I think we were having a rehearsal. The only people who understood what was being said were Maya and Sabine.

 

“Noo, when yer done, ye come and hammer it wee thus,” the woman raised a hammer and hit the anvil that was in the place where the ceremony would take place for some reason. “And ye’ll ken it’s aw ower.”

 

Sabine and Maya nodded their heads furiously with big grins as they each hit the anvil with the hammer, while the rest of us watched on with our mouths open.

 

“What did she say?” Cole whispered out of the corner of his mouth. “Oh shit, she’s coming your way.”

 

The lovely lady walked up with a gentle smile on her face. “Morag, hen,” she held her hand out and I shook it hoping that she wasn’t asking me anything important. “Yer looking a wee bit peely-wally. I ken it’s aw a lot tae take in, but we’ll do yous right, son. Dinnae you fash yersel,” she added, then patted my shoulder and walked away.

 

“What the hell did that mean?” Cole was the first of us to talk. “I got hen so I take it we’re having chicken for dinner.”

 

“Masturbating,” Tom added randomly.

 

“Excuse me?” My eyebrows must have disappeared under my hair, because I had no idea what the hell was he talking about? Where did masturbation come into it.

 

“She told you not to masturbate,” he said like it was just a run of the mill everyday type topic in a venue where weddings were held. “She said you weren’t to ‘fash’ yourself and something about peeling your willy. You know,” he added a little wanking motion onto it.

 

Cole nodded beside me, obviously agreeing with our youngest brother. The whole thing made me shudder. That sweet little old lady telling me not to wank before the wedding? Maybe it was acceptable conversation here?

 

Shuddering again, I went to get Sabine. We were all going out to dinner and then would go back to our separate rooms and I wouldn’t see her until the actual wedding itself. I hated the thought of not cuddling up to her tonight, but it was worth it if she was going to be Mrs. Townsend tomorrow. Fucking traditions and superstitious bullshit though!

 

The wedding day…

 

Whose idea was it for ties to be so tight around the neck? Fucking sadistic bastards. I was in a horrible mood on the one of the biggest days of my life.

 

Firstly, I hadn’t slept at all. Apparently, I was the biggest pussy in the world and I couldn’t sleep without Sabine.

 

Secondly, I had to wear a shirt and a tie that for some reason, even though they were my size, didn’t fit around the neck so I could hardly breathe.

 

Thirdly, I’d just gotten a call and I was needed back in the States for work. The problem couldn’t be fixed with me working here, so I was going to have to break the news to Sabine that we were going home.

 

Fourthly, I couldn’t understand a word of what was being said and had ended up with haggis last night. I didn’t have a clue what it was, but was really enjoying it until just before the last mouthful Cole explained I’d basically just eaten sheep’s anus. Well, no not quite, but that’s what I was picturing now. As if that hadn’t been bad enough, I’d been asked if I wanted a ‘full English’ for breakfast. I’d thought that sounded safe enough so I’d agreed as had the other guys. There were slices of a black sausage on the plate, so I’d dug in. Just as I was almost licking the plate clean, Cole did an online search of the name of the sausage, black pudding, and we’d all had to run to the bathroom when he read out what it was. Blood sausage. I’d grown up on a ranch, but holy shit, blood sausage just sounded wrong when he’d read the description out to us.

 

And now, I had to listen to Tony explaining to Finlay how he’d seen almost all of the girl’s ‘taco’s’ and that he wouldn’t be hanging around with Sabine when she got closer to the ‘hammer hitting the gong’ because he was vetoing Taco Bell.

 

Just one normal day, just one, that's all I'd asked for.

 

“No one will be seeing her taco,” I wheezed out around the tie. I’d meant it as a snap, but this shit really was tight.

 

“Wrong, amigo,” Cole muttered as he fixed his own tie. “There will be a lot of nurses and a doctor who will be down the busy end.”

 

I hadn’t thought of that. What if the doctor was male? Would he have to put his hand inside her? And why was I thinking about this when I should be thinking about the fact that I was getting married today? Oh yeah, because of fucking Cole – as always.

 

Glaring at him and feeling anxious as hell, I walked over to the windows and looked out at the area surrounding us. It really was beautiful even if it was cold.

 

“You okay?” Tom asked from behind me. Turning around, I saw he had a glass of something amber in his hand. “You looked a bit nervous, so I got you this.” He held it up and jiggled it, the ice clinking off the sides of the glass.

 

“Thanks, man.” I grabbed the glass and drank it down in one, wheezing as the fire took hold in my throat and chest.

 

“Another?” Reaching over to a small table beside us, he picked up a bottle of what I saw was Dalmore Scottish Whiskey.

 

Nodding, I held my glass up as he poured, and then swallowed around the burning that was still in my throat, but had now travelled down into my stomach too. This one joined it and amplified it by ten. “Holy shit, the Scots make it strong.”

 

After four more though, my nerves were gone and I was ready to get this show on the road. I went to walk past Tom when something caught my eye. Looking through the room and then down at myself, I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw my pants.

 

“Why are y’all wearing skirts?”

 

Sniffing, Tom fiddled with his and answered, “They’re kilts, you imbecile. And Mom made us wear them.”

 

Shaking my head and grinning, I thanked Shmog himself, no wait, is it Shmog? Shmod? Fuck it, the big guy upstairs for being mom’s favorite kid so that I wasn’t wearing one. They looked awesome as hell, but regardless of what I’d drunk in the last half hour, I still had the presence of mind that my wedding pictures would be on display for life and that I wouldn’t be wearing stilts. Wait…why was I thinking about stilts again?

 

At that moment, there was a knock at the door, and an old man poked his head around it after Coleman opened it.

 

“Mornin’,” he muttered as he entered the room.

 

“Look Tom, he walks like you,” Cole whispered, getting a glare from Tom.

 

“You ready, pal?” He asked as he looked me over. I had no nerves whatsoever, but I was being strangled by the clothing I was wearing, so I gave him a strained nod and smile. “Aye, come oan then. We’ll have a wee blether while we go.”

 

Following him out, he started talking about anything and everything as we walked. I was too focused on breathing and kept tugging at my collar to pay much attention. He waved us into the hall, which was beautiful, and I danced over to stand where Mom told me to.

 

As the men got into position, I saw the women eyeing their husbands and licking their lips, making me shudder.

 

“Are we taking these home with us?” Mom whispered loudly to Dad who gave her a wink.

 

Gramps decided to give his input on wearing a kilt. “Ya know, my balls aren’t used to having a draft. I mean, pants keep them all tucked away like a mouse in its house, but here they’re just blowing free.” He added a little hip gyration that would have made me gag if my collar wasn’t restricting most of the movement in my throat. “I think I like it.”

 

“I know I like it,” Gram purred from where she was sitting, looking him up and down.

 

Unfortunately, I was now well on the road to perfectly sober and the nerves were coming back full force.

 

“Here,” Tom handed me a little silver flask out of the purse thing around his waist getting another snort from me. “Fuck off, it’s a traditional thing called a Spurnan.”

 

“Sporran,” the old guy corrected making us both jump. Where the hell did he come from?

 

“Look, though. I have a cool knife in my sock,” Tom lifted a leg and I caught a glimpse of the knife in question. I thought knives were illegal here?

 

“The bride will be here in five minutes. Take your places, please.” The old man announced and then disappeared back into a crypt or something.

 

Now, the nerves were almost overwhelming. So, unscrewing the cap, I drank as much down as I could. After stopping for a breath of air, I finished what was inside the flask. Once you got past the initial feeling of magma being poured down your throat, it wasn’t half bad.

 

“You got another?” I asked as I passed it back to Tom who was looking at me like I’d just stolen his last marshmallow. The guy was territorial as fuck over the weirdest things.

 

“That was at least three full glasses worth,” he muttered. “Now what am I gonna do?”

 

“Not be such a cheap bitch next time and bring a real amount with you instead of a shot glass full?” I suggested. I thought it was a valid point. Who just brings a mouthful of alcohol with them?

 

Now, I wasn’t even feeling nervous. I was excited, and sweating slightly, but that was to be expected. That shit was like lava!

 

Just as I tried to take a breath in, the music started and I saw Sabine coming towards me. She looked like a fairy princess as she walked with a huge smile on her face.

 

The next thing I realized, we were being asked to say our vows.

 

“I, Angélique Sabine d’Arvor,” she started, only to be interrupted by Gramps.

 

“Wait, I thought her name was Sabine?” He asked Grams so loudly that we all turned and glared at him. Giving us an encouraging nod to continue, she grabbed his ear and whispered furiously into it. Sabine went by her middle name because she felt her first name was ostentatious, we all knew this, but the old shit just had to forget at this precise moment.

 

Grinning at my woman, I said the only thing that was in my head. “You’re so pretty.”

 

Looking at me and doing a double take when she saw the grin on my face, she cleared her throat, she started again. “I, Angélique Sabine d’Arvor,” she did a quick glance at Gramps, raising an eyebrow. He gave her a thumb up and she continued. “I promise to be your best friend and have your back, regardless. Well, most of the time,” she gave me a wry smile. Yeah, family feud’s aside, I got it. “I promise to let you fight your own battles, especially on the Xbox. I can’t promise to share the covers and hot water, but I’ll try. I promise to love your family as if they were my own…”

 

I was the one who interrupted her this time. “For the love of all things holy, don’t do that! Wait, is this a church? Does this count in America too? She didn’t mean it!”

 

Sighing and crumbling up the piece of paper, she looked me straight in the eyes and said,” I promise to be with you through thick and thin, and to love you every step of the way.”

 

Then it was my turn. Patting my pockets, I looked for a piece of paper but couldn’t find one. In fact, I wasn’t even sure what was meant to be on the paper, but she’d said such pretty things to me that I wanted to say some back, so I decided to wing it.

 

“I, Brett Joseph Townsend,” I began, knowing full well that my asshole brothers would burst out laughing.

 

“His initials are BJ,” my fucking grandfather chortled loudly. “That was a good one,” he reached round and smacked my dad on the back. I was still sure he’d given me and Tom our names out of badness even though he swore he hadn’t. At least I wasn’t Tom though – the thought made a strangled giggle burst out of me, making Sabine’s eyes narrow as she took in whatever didn’t seem right on my face.

 

Swaying slightly, I patted my pockets again looking for something, but I wasn’t sure what. Oh shit, pretty words.

 

“Nope,” I popped the p, purely because I really was drunk now. “No paper, imma gonna wing it,” I winked at the lady officiating who looked like she was watching a science experiment. “I, Brett Joseph Townsend, promise to save you if what happens in those natural disaster movies, you know like Armageddon or The Day After Tomorrow, happens. Wait, but not your parents,” I pointed my finger sternly in the direction of where her and her…twin were standing. When did she get a twin? “They’re mean and they smell.” I finished, and then thought of a winner. “Oh, and I’ll play you Aerosmith during it because they sing pretty songs.” Tapping my chin, I thought of the next one. “I promise to cuddle you every morning, even when your breath stinks, because I love your boobies,” I pointed at the pair in question, on both her and her twin again, because I didn’t want to leave the twin out. “I promise to never tell you ‘yes’ when you ask if something makes your ass look fat. Even if it’s that red dress that just looks bad.” Holy shit, this was freaking easy! “I also promise to love you even when you do those tiny little farts in your sleep. Oh, oh, oh, oh, and I promise to always give you a complement, even if you’re wearing the red dress. But seriously, it just looks…”

 

“Brett!” Maya and my sister, Layla, hissed, stopping me. Oh, yay, Layla was here!

 

“What? You’re interrupting my love words here,” I snapped at them. I mean come the hell on, I was on a roll. “What was I saying? Oh yeah, um,” I tapped my chin again. “Is there anything else?”

 

“Oh, please let there be more,” Tony whined out, sounding like he was crying. It was hard to tell over the snorting and wheezing noises coming from where my brothers, Dad and Gramps were sitting.

 

Focusing back on Sabine and her twin…holy shit there was a third? Blinking, I looked at Sabine and suddenly remembered what I wanted to say. “I promise to love you. Will you marry me? Please say yes! If you say no it will make me sad all day.” She pinched my arm and looked over at the lady who was standing there watching everything silently. I wasn’t sure if she was laughing or crying either. “Oh, we’re getting married?” At the slow nod from the woman, I turned back to Sabine with a huge grin. “Goody. I take her,” I said firmly and indicated toward Sabine. “You may now proceed.”

 

Sabine burst into tears and continued crying as we exchanged rings and signed the register thingy and certificates. They were obviously the happiest tears in the world. She only stopped when we beat the crap out of the anvil with the hammer. Then Layla, who had flown in the night before, walked up with a fancy little decorative bag which, when she opened it, was full of freaking chocolate fingers.

 

My little chocolate finger munching princess was now Mrs. Townsend. My wife! Fuck, I needed a nap!

 

Two hours later...

 

My head was killing me and I’d never been so dehydrated in my life. Waking up on one of the benches in the hall that I remembered, after a couple of seconds of confusion, that I’d gotten married in had been hell. It was hard as a rock and my side felt like someone was twisting a knife in it where I’d been shot. What the fuck had happened?

 

Knowing I needed to find my family, I walked carefully out of the hall and almost screamed when I hit the daylight. I needed to find some Aspirin or industrial strength painkillers as soon as possible.

 

Remembering that we were having a meal at the venue’s restaurant, I walked in its direction and sighed with relief when I got out of the sun and into the darker room. That was until I looked and saw the glares on the faces of the women, including my beautiful wife’s.

 

Oh, fuck my life. I was going to kill Tom.

 

“He did it,” I pointed at Tom as I sat down heavily in the empty seat beside Sabine.

 

All of the women's heads snapped in his direction and the previously smirking ass nugget sank down into his seat.

 

“He was nervous…” he tried. “I didn’t know that being in Scotland got you drunk quicker like when you drink at a high altitude?” That was a lie and everyone else knew it. Scotland wasn’t at a higher altitude like that. “Cole made me do it!” He squealed, before getting out of his chair and running across the room. We watched as he ran out of the door, then ran back in and grabbed one of the plates that the waitress was bringing in our direction, before turning and running out again.

 

Cole was laughing and shaking his head as he turned back to the table. Looking up, he took in all of the daggers being glared in his direction now. “Can you believe that guy? I mean, who would get their brother drunk before his wedding?” The end of it was almost inaudible as he whispered it and then gulped. With a long drawn out sigh as the plates were put down in front of everyone, he sank down into his seat and muttered, “You can’t hit me, I’m pregnant.”

 

My wife must have ordered for me, because the waitress put a plate with a huge steak and mashed potatoes on it down in front of me. I wasn’t that hungover that I couldn’t inhale a big fat steak - something no man ever would or had been since the dawn of the fucking awesome that was steak.

 

As I lifted the first mouthful up, there was a squeal followed by something thudding the bottom of the table making all of our glasses shake. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Cole reach under the table to wrestle with something, his neck visibly straining above the death collar on his shirt as he fought with whatever it was.

 

Then, Ebru’s hand with her fork in it, appeared back on the table and accompanied a huge beaming grin across her face.

 

Shit head deserved that.