It was a beautiful late May day when everyone assembled at Iverson Loch Manor for the wedding of Effie Iverson Munro and Earnan Matheson. Just friends and family had been invited. The white gazebo next to the small lake had been decorated with ivy and pink and purple tulips. Tiny lights twinkled over the roof and wound in with the ivy lining the edge. White chairs were placed around the gazebo. The walkway was lined with alternating pots of white, pink, and purple tulips.
A classic rock guitarist alternated songs with a man who played the bagpipes.
The bride was a nervous wreck. She’d bought three dresses for the wedding and couldn’t make up her mind which one to wear. She’d changed four times. Finally, Anisa couldn’t take it anymore. “This pink dress with the U-shaped neckline, gathered skirt, and purple tie-dye sash is it. Wear the pink Prada heels.”
“Sure, easy for you to say,” Effie growled. “You’re pregnant and shining with it. You’d look great in anything. Just like you did at your own wedding last month. You were a vision in your satin, off-the-shoulder gown. Ronan couldn’t stop smiling.” Effie’s hand fluttered to her heart. “It was the most romantic thing.”
Anisa placed her hands on her hips. “Oh, and having your beloved give you a pink diamond from Paris wasn’t romantic?”
Effie extended her hand, looked at her ring, and sighed. “He proposed to me in the gazebo where we’re getting married. It was a very romantic proposal. I was so shocked when he pulled out a ring box from Cartier.” She sighed. “And, of course, as soon as I saw the deep pink stone, I knew how much thought and love he’d put into his choice.” Her eyes got all misty.
“Come on, you hippie, you’ve got a wedding to attend. This time it’s yours. And it’ll be just as romantic as you can imagine. I hear your groom has something especially romantic planned.”
When Effie walked out the front door of her house, to her surprise, her groom, dressed in full Scottish regalia, waited for her on a white steed with wide pink ribbons hanging from its bridle. He reached down and, with Creighton’s help, lifted her to sit in front of him. She held her bouquet of pink roses to her heart as he slowly took the white horse two times around the loch while everyone cheered. Effie’s eyes twinkled with magic when Earnan helped her off the horse.
“Oh, I do love a man with imagination. Wasn’t that the most romantic thing? How sweet of you to take me away, like a hero on a magic steed.”
“Me Angel, this is only the beginning fer us. I love ye to the stars and back.”
“Oh, Earnan, I love you, too.”