It was a few years ago (three?) that Oliver invited one of his best friends to come along to a December birthday party. Z was in town looking for work, finishing his PhD and crashing at our place. On the way to the fridge he ran into a vivacious blond who was there as the date of an aquaintance. The interest that began that night was cemented at a Christmas party a few weeks later, where again lonely Z was invited to join and the blond again joined as the companion of the unfortunate aquaintance.
Those two chatted the whole night, often leaning across the table towards each other to get closer. The unfortunate aquaintance went home early to study, and Z and the blond started talking about going dancing. A little while later, as they ducked into a cab, I remember turning to Oliver and asking if we shouldn’t go with them after all. Clearly there was something going on that could turn into a whole lotta trouble for everyone. Neither one was exactly free and we knew everyone involved… shouldn’t we try to intervene and prevent disaster?
Being practical and without a meddling bone in his body, Oliver watched them driving off with an appraising look and said whatever trouble they brewed was their business, and trying to head it off would only redirect it onto our heads. They drove away, alone and unchaperoned, and did what comes naturally to all people insanely drawn to one another.
The next morning the doorbell rang at 7 am. Z stood at the door, in a familiar looking suit and rumpled shirt, holding a bag of fresh rolls, claiming he’d been locked out when going out to get breakfast.
For the next few weeks, we always had fresh bread.
Fast forward three years, to yesterday at 1:30pm, where we all met in the lobby of our hotel. Everyone laced on snow shoes and carried their dress shoes in bags. The bride wore hiking boots, carried her bouquet and had flowers in her hair. Together we escorted the couple on the 20 minute walk through the narrow snowy streets of Bad Gastein, to city hall. There we hurriedly changed, kicked muddy shoes into the corner, tossed coats and scarves over chairs, and gathered in a room to witness a small wedding ceremony.
After the “I dos” were over, we were tucked into horse-drawn sleighs, champagne flutes were pressed into our hands, and off we went again through town, past our hotel and away into the woods to a cabin somewhere in the middle of nowhere for Gluehwein and a light lunch.
Walking back in the dark, we stopped along the way at a roadside hut to toast the couple again with schnapps, never actually leaving the footpath, standing in the snow in the yellow light of the small tavern. Returning to the hotel (after a small search and rescue where the groom’s parents were briefly swallowed by the forest, but reappeared unharmed in a taxi), we were greeted with more Gluehwein and paper bags of roasted chestnuts.
It was a simple and totally charming affair, free of any pomp or pretention, intimate and heartfelt.
They’re lucky to have found one another, and here’s hoping they never lose that (horny) magic that drew them together. Congratulations to Sierk (aka Z) and Tessa.