Chapter 9, The Wedding that Almost Wasn't

From Chapter 9: The Wedding That Almost Wasn't

(This is from the middle of this chapter) 

In the mean time, Michael, one of his [my husband's] groomsmen from Boston, was getting rip roaring drunk in the club bar with Jim, a childhood friend of my husband, another groomsman. The two had never met until that night and when you mix an Irish catholic from Boston with a good ol’ boy from the Low Country of South Carolina over dozens of shots of brown liquor, it isn't pretty. And, it got down right ugly when the subject turned to the war (as in our most recent unpleasantness). In fact it got so ugly that the bartender came into the ballroom to find my husband to seek a truce.

Finally, my husband found me, we danced a dance or two and visited with a few folks we had not spoken to yet. Then it was time to go. He drove me home and I thought everything was dandy. After all tomorrow was our wedding day. Well, that was until a year or two later when my husband revealed it almost wasn't. Apparently at the rehearsal party after several adult beverages and an hour or two separated from me, he announced to his friends that he had no plans to marry someone he could not even find at the rehearsal party.

So, after peace had once again been found between the North and the South, my husband's groomsman (and former college roommate) Michael sat him down in the bar and explained how calling the wedding off at that point was probably not such a good idea. Even in his drunken stupor, Michael was able to talk my husband into not abandoning me at the altar the next day. After mulling it over even more glasses of single malt scotch, Michael and my husband solved half the problems of the world and my husband decided that the wedding, would in fact, go on.