"To the best bride-bed will we
Which by us shall blessed be,
And the issue there create
Ever shall be fortunate.
So shall all the couples three
Ever true in loving be...

William Shakespeare, "A Midsummer Night's Dream." Act 5, Scene 1, Lines 420-425. Used without permission.
 

MICHAEL:

This is new. Me and Kelly got here before any of the other dudes in the party. Even beat out Dad.

Byers is there, of course. He looks kind of nervous. I would be, too, if I had his father, who's sitting like six feet away from him. No tux, but the suit this dude has on is probably three times as expensive as all our tuxes put together-and these tuxes are Armani. You don't go low rent with the prof.

I ask if it's like okay if Kelly comes in, this is sort of like the guys' room, I think, the prof says sure.

"You look very pretty, Kelly," prof tells her. And she looks real happy.

But I think pretty is sort of an understatement. She's like such a knockout today.

"Aren't you Frohike's boy?" Papa Byers sort of looks at me like, who let the sludge in the room.

"He is. You remember Michael, don't you?" Byers sounds real nervous, too.

"I believe so."

"Going to school, is that correct?"

"Both of us are," Kelly answers for us, she takes my hand, too.

"Studying what?"

Excuse me, this is not the Spanish Inquisition, least not last time I checked.

"Kelly's a premed," I say. "I'm undeclared."

"I see." I don't think Papa Byers approves of that. "What are you leaning towards?"

"Not sure. Thinking about majoring in biology. My bio prof thinks I should." This is true. Dr. Johnson's been pushing me, hard.

"And what would you do with such a major?"

"Not sure."

He studies both of us. "Well, when you are sure-and when you get into medical school, young lady-our family has a foundation that provides scholarships for deserving students. Make certain you contact us."

Byers looks as confused as we are, but hey, I think the guy just offered us money.

I'm gonna keep my mouth shut now.
 

FROHIKE:

I wasn't counting on the father being in the same room with us. In spite of his kindness towards Martha, I am still somewhat ill at ease with him.

Yet he's courteous and pleasant enough as I enter. Martha and Kelly decide it's time to head out, and it's a boys' club now.

Still need a couple more boys to round it out. I just hope they're not true to form and running late.

"How are you feeling?" Mr. Byers asks me.

"Fine, thank you." And I do.

I sit down near Byers. "You just about ready, Byers?"

"Yes." He looks a bit gaunt, but that's understandable.

"You'll be fine," I tell him, and just this small statement seems to relax him a little.

Two fathers, one son. And it's more than a little awkward.

Perhaps as much for Mr. Byers as for myself. He stands to excuse himself, saying he would like to look for his daughter and her family.

He stands to shake hands with his son, and something happens which for the love of God I never thought I would see.

At first Byers is looking as if he will return the gesture, but then, as his father moves ever so slightly closer, he leans forward, and gives the old man a hug.

And to my even greater surprise, the old man doesn't push him away.

A good omen.
 

Langly and Mulder, of course, are dragging their heels, but finally, Langly comes bounding in, and properly dressed, down to the shoes. Miranda has styled his hair in a drug-lord style, but it works on him, and it does keep it off his face.

"You go to all your weddings messed up?" Michael asks him, referring in the present to his arm and to the broken nose he sported at his own wedding.

"Wasn't messed up at Mulder's wedding," Langly reminds him.

"Yeah, but you didn't have your shoes on after the ceremony," Byers adds.

"The way these suckers feel? You're lucky I'm still wearing 'em," Langly shoots back.

"Once the pictures are done, I don't care what you do, it's your money," Byers tells him. "But please, keep them on for the photos."

"They hurt," Langly whines.

"Look, you two idiots, you're supposed to be ushers, and it's time. Now get out there and usher."
I point to both Langly and to my son.

"Where the hell is Mulder?" Michael looks around.

"Look, when he gets here, he'll usher too, and I'll kick his ass for being late. Now OUT!" Subtlety just doesn't work with Michael and Langly. At least nothing more subtle than a sledgehammer.

They're just about to head out when the lovely face of Dana Scully-Mulder appears in the doorway, toting her two young daughters. "Has Mulder arrived yet?"

"No, he hasn't." I walk over closer to her. "Is something wrong?"

"I'm not sure. He was supposed to be here already, and if he's late, he's going to feel my foot up his ass." She signs the last part without speaking it, not wanting to display it in front of her daughters. She knows I recognize this set of signs-in reference to Mulder, it's used plenty.

"Would you like to sit down?" I motion her to the sofa, but she says no, she'll go outside for now...

Just as a figure in a white, rhinestone studded jumpsuit enters the room. With his hair done up in an Elvis style pompadour.

It couldn't be...

It is.

Oh no.

It's Mulder.

He stands in front of his wife, who looks as if she cannot decide whether to faint or slug her husband. The sheer horror on her face is almost comical.

She tries to speak, but all that comes out is a squeak resembling 'Mulder!'

"Whaddya think?" Mulder's beaming. "Looks like the real thing, doesn't it?"

Byers has also been rendered speechless. His jaw has fallen open, and it's as if paralyzed.

I shake my head. There's no time to make him go and change. If we do that, we'll never get the guests seated, and he'll never make it back on time.

"Mulder, you're an asshole, you know that." I remind him severely. I'm ready to read him the riot act and give him the third degree all at once, but we're interrupted by a loud clamor that seems to be coming from the front of the church.

Shit. Not another stunt like Roy Renshaw pulled at Allison and Langly's wedding, please. I tell Dana and the girls to stay put, and Mulder and Byers to come with me. Last I checked, there were no rules about seeing the groom ahead of time.

The church is located on a large bluff with a lovely meadow around it. Private, quiet, and beautiful for photographing...

And the meadow is littered with...

Parachutes.

There are things attached to those parachutes. Upon closer examination they appear to somewhat resemble humans...dressed in Elvis costumes.

"What the-"

A very tall man in the red Elvis costume approaches me. "Flying Elvises, Utah Branch. Plus a few from Colorado and Arizona."

Oh my God. Aiiiiiegh!

Byers looks about to faint.

More parachuted figures fall out of the sky, all of them clad in some form of Elvis performing clothes.

What I want to know is, how do they keep their hair from getting destroyed on the way down.

Miranda Gerstein-Langly, as if reading my thoughts, says to me simply, "Dippity-Do."

Huh?

"Think of it as hair cement," she says.

It'd have to be.

I'm looking around to see if their wedding planner is anywhere in sight. Byers is conversing with a young woman in a purple silk suit. He looks mildly agitated, but her face remains serene.

"Lady, do you know what the hell is going on here?" I ask the young woman, who keeps her voice calm and level in the midst of all this.

"Of course," she says, in a low, melodious voice. "The Flying Elvises, Utah Branch. Several of them were on the guest list. They were present when the bride and groom met in Las Vegas about two years ago."

"They were?" Byers's eyes are about ready to pop out of his head.

"And the ones not on the guest list offered to pay their own way."

"Whoa, this getting to be tradition or what?" Langly asks. "We had Elvises, but not flying ones."

Langly's wedding I completely expected to be deranged and debauched, and I was not disappointed-I planned it, with Miranda, and knew what terrors lay ahead. But Byers and Juliet, I had this image of a quieter, somewhat more dignified occasion...

Then again, I met Juliet's family last night, and if that didn't shatter any illusions I had, then this certainly did.

Mulder's going to fit right in. And this time, he got to wear his costume.

How many times will I have to hear 'Hound Dog' tonight?
 

I force the three ushers, including the one in the white rhinestone jumpsuit, to get busy and do their jobs, promising that they will learn what getting it up the ass without lube feels like if they don't.

I escort Dana Scully-Mulder and her children outside, and Michael offers her arm, and clucks his tongue in sympathy for her. We do that a lot, by the way.

Byers and I are alone again in the small anteroom. Last time, playing father of the bride, I was out with the women.

"My father is going to flip," Byers whispers.

"Byers. This is your day. Relax. You're the groom. Nobody can say anything to you."

"Are you kidding! Do you know how many times I've heard 'thank you very much' a la Elvis already?"

"And there'll be more where that came from. Now, take a deep breath."

He does.

"Blow it out."

He closes his eyes. "I was an idiot to wear my contacts. I haven't worn them in so long, and Juliet likes my glasses better..."

"Did you bring them?"

"They're in my car."

As best man, it's my job to keep the groom comfortable and at least slightly sane.

"All right. Hang tight. You're about to lose your lenses."

"You think they'll be all right in the pictures?"

"Byers, quit worrying and shut up!"
 

Unlike my car, Byers's car is tidy, and locating his eyeglasses is not a challenging task. I bring them in right about the time the music is putting the wedding party on notice to line up and fly right.

He removes the errant pieces of light blue plastic from his eyes-I could never get comfortable with the idea of sticking something in my eye like that. Yet Michael, Allison, and Mulder perform this ritual daily, and Byers and Langly on occasion.

I've noticed Martha does not. I like that about her. She's positively adorable in glasses.

The church is quieting. Even with the Flying Elvises, Utah Branch, there is a hushed, reverent whisper about the place at this point.

I tap him gently.

"It's time. Are you ready?"

He smiles. "Yes."

I straighten his tie, and he may flinch, but I wrap him in a big bear hug.

"I'm happy for you, buddy."

Byers takes a breath, and walks out, confidently, before the waiting crowd. I follow him, checking one last time to make certain Juliet's ring is tucked in my pocket. It is.

Langly follows me, then Mulder, and then Michael. All of them are smiling, almost silly, but they've got women in the audience or in the party willing to beat them up if necessary.

I scan the first few pews...

And there she is.

She smiles at me, I at her. She winks.

I wonder.

Will she and I be doing this?

I think I'd like to...eventually.

Maybe she would, too.

I recognize the first few strains of the wedding march starting after a brief pause.

First down the aisle is Allison, her hair up in curls and her eyes fixed forward. Allison is not comfortable in front of crowds, but I notice that she casts her eyes towards Langly, and he catches her eye, and flashes her a lecherous grin. This puts her lovely smile back on her face.

Then Angela, then Christina, then the maid of honor, Paula.

Another pause in the music. Everyone rises.

A blinding flash of crystal white satin in the back of the church begins a slow walk down the aisle. She is on the arm of her brother, and as she approaches, her dark hair glowing under her veil, her eyes radiant. She is positively beautiful.

This is not lost on Byers. A warm, happy blush creeps over his cheeks.

The priest begins the familiar intonations of the nuptial mass, and I notice that immediately Mulder turns to his wife and begins to reiterate the ceremony to her in ASL. No doubt she knows the words better than he does-she was raised Catholic, after all, but once again, I see how, in spite of the Elvis costume, he would move heaven and earth to make her happy.

I've heard these words, and spoken them.

I didn't keep them. This still bothers me, to this day.

I wonder if Byers thinks about his misguided but sincere promise to Susanne at times. I imagine he does. But he has chosen to move forward. I, for one, am proud of him.

What would happen were I to say these words again? Would I succeed this time?

The thought of marrying again fills me both with delight, and terror. I can only imagine what Byers has gone through to get here today.

What would it take for me to try again?

There are two readings-one from Genesis, one from I Corinthians 12:8. These are the customary readings in a Catholic wedding ceremony, and Byers and Juliet are not inclined to deviate in a large way from tradition.

Of course, they did come to the altar already expecting their first child-and they're overjoyed about that.

I watch the faces in the crowd. Juliet's mother, sitting with her brother in the first pew on the left, visibly moved, probably longing for the presence of her beloved husband, but thrilled for her daughter nonetheless. Sadness and joy, mixed into a rich combination that we all know-if we're lucky.

Mr. Byers and his daughter occupy the first pew on the right, with his son-in-law and granddaughters, who are a bit fidgety but nevertheless fascinated. Mr. Byers wears a neutral expression, but Kat makes no such effort. Tears and a wide smile are visible on her face.

The whole place is brimming with emotion-not all of it on the faces, but you can reach out and touch it, it's so tangible.

Byers and Juliet are asked at this time to state their intentions. To say that they have come here of their own free will and choose to enter this state openly and wholeheartedly.

I turn my face for a moment in the direction of the pew behind the Byerses.

My heart just about explodes with love when I look her way.

Once the intentions are stated, more prayers are spoken. I know these prayers. They're the prayers of my childhood-admittedly, they were in Latin when I was young, but I know them both in the old language and in the vernacular.
 
The time has come for the two of them to pledge themselves to each other, to have and to hold from this day forward, in plenty and in want, in good times and bad, in illness and in health, forsaking all others if necessary, for as long as they both shall live...

The words are simple.

The promise, huge and complex. You have no idea until you've been there.

Byers's voice is soft at first, but gains strength as he continues. Then Juliet. She sounds a bit overwhelmed emotionally, but I think it's only her joy brimming over. When Paula pulls back her veil, I can see the shine in her eyes. She's having a hard time holding all that emotion inside her, and today, she shouldn't even try. Tears are not only appropriate at times like this. I consider them virtually a mandate.

I feel my own lump rising in my throat.

I scan the faces of the other three men at the altar with me. Mulder's eyes are fixed to his wife's-and I know this look well. When they're like this, they could be alone in the world. You can almost watch the devotion take on a physical form.

I see Langly sneaking glances at his lovely little wife-and I can catch her gazing at him in the same manner that they think is furtive.

Maybe it's not obvious to anyone else there. But I see it, plain as the gorgeous golden light streaming through the stained glass windows in this lovely, traditional Catholic church.

And Michael?

Michael turns his head in Kelly's direction, shyly. The reason becomes obvious to me.

Tears in his eyes. I can see him attempt a discreet wipe at the eyes and nose.

But he's my son, through and through.

I love him so much.

Someday that will be him up there, promising the hardest things in the world to keep.

I want him to do better than me. In every way.

Could I do this again? Would I?

I see her. Her face warm and sweet.

It could happen.

And the magic words are spoken.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

I'm expecting a quick, soft kiss, dignified, careful.

It's anything but. This is a kiss that has passion poured into it, and sprays out like a fountain.

The whole place goes wild as the recessional begins. Byers and Juliet, both smiling so fully that their faces may break, lead the way.

I fall in with Paula, and the others fall behind me.

And when I'm outside, I wait. I wait until my lady love is next to me again.

And I kiss her in a way that should put those two kids to shame.
 

We run to embrace the new couple. Martha kisses them both, I kiss Juliet on the cheek.

And for the second time today, I embrace Byers-and he hugs me back. I can feel his slender body tremble, but I think now it's more with happiness than performance anxiety.

I watch as the ten million Italian relatives, friends, fellow academics, the sedate and stately Byerses, and the Flying Elvises, Utah Branch, make their way through the receiving line. The congratulations and good wishes are as rich as the sunset, making its way down below the western ridge.

Martha and I stand and hold hands, watching the sun set together.

"This is beautiful," she says, softly, leaning her head on my shoulder.

We watch in silent awe as the light slips away.
 

LANGLY:

I finally get to hook up with Ally again.

She looks so magically delicious. She didn't like the color of her dress, but she looks great in it. Matches her curls, sort of.

"Remember when we did this?" she asks me.

"Hey, I wasn't totally ripped till a lot later, you know!" I laugh at her gently, and she snuggles into me.

She stands on her tiptoes and kisses me softly on the lips.

"Y'know, I know I'm kind of a bastard sometimes, but I hope you're still glad you said yes."

She smiles big at me. "Langly, you have no idea."

Oh, I think I do.
 

MICHAEL:

Kelly and me finally can be together again, I didn't mind walking with Ally at all, but now I get to be by her again.

"That was so beautiful," she's like almost crying.

"Yeah, went down nice." To say the least.

"Think ours will be just as nice?"

"Better."

"I don't know, this was pretty dope."

"Kel, ours has to be better. 'Cause you'll be in it."

Now I think she actually shed a tear.
 

BYERS:

It really happened.

She's my wife. We're married.

We did it!

We are overwhelmed by the unremitting and voluminous outpourings of love and affection by everyone here.

The evening is chilly, but I'm so warm, I can feel the flush on my face.

This is joy.

I have arrived.

I could never have gotten here alone.

She looks up at me, her eyes shimmering, her smile lit up like a thousand candles. I feel this burst of pure love for her.

"John?" Her voice is soft, a gentle whisper.

"Yes?"

She leans over and whispers in my ear.

"I'm starving."

END OF PART 95