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Oh what a sight, oh what a thrill, the shouts of joy, the jubilation of the moment, the beauty of the bride!
Just as the doors were about to close at the Hoboken station, the breathless beauty entered the car. All eyes upon her, all necks suddenly craning for a view, followed by an equally breathless groom, best man and maid of honor. They were a welcome sight to see indeed. Squeezed between these instant celebrities was a rosy-cheeked, wide-brown-eyed boy looking as flabbergasted as the rest. The sound of the seat being moved forward to accommodate the group was the only disruption of the sounds of clapping and well wishes. Just as the group of wedding cake toppers flopped into their seats, the train began to move.
Naturally the quiet car was quiet no more, there were a few grunts and groans—some moved to another car. Overall the passengers were thrilled to have a distraction from an otherwise boring commute. As the group caught their collective breaths, the questions came from the collective regulars of this trip. The bride—in her flowing white gown, the old delicate veil clutched in one hand, a bouquet of blue flowers in the other—was the spokesperson for the group. Grace, as she introduced herself, was overwhelmed by all the plans and details of the big bold wedding she did not want. She was hoping to please her parents, but it all came to a head during the argument about where to sit distant third cousins she’d never met. At the kitchen table of her parents’ New Windsor home, she looked into the eyes of her husband-to-be and he simply nodded in agreement.
So the plan was hatched to “elope,” which meant gathering this small band of rebels and heading to city hall in Manhattan. Once there, they stood online with the others after filling out the necessary paperwork. It seems she and her maid-of-honor had their gowns, the men, including the little choir boy, had hustled to rent the necessary penguin suits for the day. All were sworn to keep the secret in order not to incite the riot that would ensue around that kitchen table if the parents found out. Their big expense would be the rented limo that would take them to lower Manhattan from the train station in Salisbury Mills. The arrangements were made and fingers were crossed that they could pull this off as planned.
Mother Nature was in sync with them this day. Not a cloud in the summer sky; the blue heavens matched the bride’s blue eyes. The dog days of summer delivered a perfect day for them as it was cool with no humidity, a rare day indeed. As we proceeded on our journey the car went silent for a while, but there was no mistaking the grins on the faces of our band of rabble rousers. The bride and groom hugged, and she whispered to him, “We did it.” He answered, “We sure did.” They all laughed and were high-fiving the youngster in the group.
I thought to myself that something was missing from what seemed to be a perfectly planned mission. So with a smile on my face I congratulated the group and said, “I see what was old and what was blue, but what was borrowed seems to be missing.” The little cherub’s smile was ear to ear now as he proclaimed, “I am borrowed,” with a little giggle in his voice. Yes indeed, the ring bearer would have his day with the bride as she promised, and her sister lent the boy as arranged. As they left the train the brown-eyed boy smiled and gave me a wave. I borrowed that smile of his for my own face.