PART EIGHTY-SIX: THE RECEPTION

Some people thought limos were cliché rides for weddings and receptions, but I didn’t even care. I had always wanted to ride in a limo, and I never got one for my high school proms. When Pat heard about that, he assured me that I would get a limo. He never got to go to a prom, so I told him that the reception would be better than any prom he missed out on, and I promised to be a better date than any of the girls that would have went with him.
“I can’t believe we’re married,” I said as I twisted my new wedding band around on my finger. It had become truly official once we signed the papers after the ceremony. We took pictures afterwards, of course, out in the snow, until we got too cold. By then the limo had arrived and we sat inside it now, on our way to the Trump Tower and Hotel for our reception - soon to be the most memorable celebration of our lives.
“Yeah, you can’t back out now,” Patrick joked. I could, technically, but I couldn’t imagine why I would ever want to. Even so, I played along.
“I could easily escape, you know. I’ll tuck and roll out of here if I have to. Hey, driver?” I grabbed the door handle as I called out to him.
“Oh, no you don’t!” Suddenly I was pulled away from the door and I was being kissed.
“People are going to be doing that glass thing to get us to kiss all night, you know.”
“I know, but I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of kissing you.”
When we arrived at the venue, I felt adrenaline pulsing through me. For the first time ever, Patrick and I would be introduced as a married couple for our grand entrance, which wasn’t going to be all that grand except for the fact that the spotlight would be on us. I was still so excited, though. I hadn’t even seen the venue yet. Well, I had seen it, but not when it was completely finished being decorated. I was nervous about how it would look, I was looking forward to dancing the night away, and I was also just plain happy that it was my wedding night and I was married.
When we got inside, Patrick gripped my hand tightly and we stood outside the doors we were supposed to enter through, waiting for our cue. It felt like forever, but we finally heard it.
“Introducing, for the first time ever, Mr. and Mrs. Kane!” We burst through the doors as Chelsea Dagger played - yes, Chelsea Dagger - and danced our way to our seats at our dinner table. When we got in there, there were so many things to take in. The room was huge, with several circular tables surrounding a nice sized dance floor. There was white drapery everywhere, along with a few gorgeous chandeliers. The table that Patrick and I sat at was different from the rest, which I loved. It was long and rectangular, and it was donned with a red tablecloth. The napkins were white to match the full, white rose centerpiece, and the chairs had silver accents. As for the rest of the tables, the tablecloths were silver with red napkins to match their smaller red rose centerpieces, and the chairs were accented with silver as well. The whole place looked spectacular, and I couldn’t have asked for anything better. It had exceeded my expectations.
Soup and salad was the first thing on the agenda, thankfully. I didn’t know about anyone else, but I sure was hungry. Speeches were given in between that and the main course, and the theme of the night seemed to be humorous, yet sentimental. For dinner, everyone had the choice of chicken, beef, or pasta - fettucine alfredo, of course - with mashed potatoes and gravy, bread, and veggies. The food was really good, and filling too. Once almost everyone was done eating, it was time for the first dance - for Patrick and I’s first dance. I had suggested a song that I loved for whatever reason, and he had agreed to it. So, we were called up to the dance floor and I’ll Be by Edwin McCain began to play. Dancing with Patrick, with just the two of us on the dance floor, gave the song a whole new meaning to me. Every time I would listen to it, I would think of our wedding, now. I would think of Pat’s hands on my waist where they’re supposed to be, and my arms around his neck, and not having to get on my tiptoes to kiss him for once, thanks to my heels. I was perfectly okay with that.
When I’ll Be ended, Patrick sat back down and my dad joined me for a dance.
“Remember when you were little and you said you wanted a hockey wedding?” he asked as we danced.
“Yeah. I said that it would happen on an ice rink, outside. I’d marry a hockey player and when the ceremony was over, we’d skate off. The reception was supposed to be at the UC, and everyone was going to have to wear skates because the dancing would be on the ice too,” I giggled, thinking back to my foolish wishes.
“Well, not all the details are the same, but in a way, you did get your hockey wedding,” he grinned. “You definitely got your hockey player.”
Our dance ended, and Patrick danced with his mom. After that, the bridal party and I headed out onto the dance floor to get things started, and soon everyone else followed and began to dance.
The whole night was as close to perfect as it could possibly be. The DJ played good music, and he was a lot of fun. There was karaoke as well, and Kris Versteeg and I even rapped to Ice Ice Baby together. Plenty more pictures were taken throughout the night, including some of Patrick and I and the whole bridal party in our Converse, which we had changed into for easier, more comfortable dancing. Patrick and I had personalized pairs, and I was proud to wear mine that said “Mrs. Kane” on the back. Patrick and I cut the cake together, and of course that ended up being a little messy. I honestly didn’t want the night to end. I had so much fun, and I was so glad that I got to spend the whole night with Patrick.
Once everyone had decided to head home, Patrick and I thanked our parents for everything they did for us and helped clean up a bit. By the time the limo had taken us back home, it was around one in the morning. But despite the fact that it was late and we should have been tired, our excitement and adrenaline kept us from going to sleep. It was our wedding night, after all.
“Tonight was absolutely amazing,” I decided once we were back in the comfort of our apartment.
“It’s not over yet,” Pat smiled. He grabbed my waist and kissed me, and we went down the hallway like that until we ended up in our bedroom.
“You’re so beautiful,” he told me, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “And that dress…you look great in it, but you’ve got to be tired of wearing it,” he smirked.
“You’re right,” I replied as I loosened his tie. I took it off and began to unbutton his dress shirt as he reached for the zipper on the back of my dress. He pulled the zipper down and I stepped out of the ball gown after pulling his shirt off of him.
“Damn, I have a really sexy wife,” he realized. I giggled at his comment and he pushed me down onto the bed.

“And I have a really sexy husband,” I answered, tracing his v-lines with my fingers. He kissed my lips and then my neck, and I ran my hands through his golden curls. Things escalated quickly after that, and eventually the exhaustion from everything that had gone on throughout the day and night caught up with us. When we fell asleep, it was immediate, but Patrick managed to whisper “I love you,” before I completely passed out under the warm, cozy blankets.

Notes