Chapter Ten: Wedding Bells Ringing …

Erik bolted upright in bed, jolted awake by yet another nightmare. What was up with this ancient pile of stones he lived in? Sure, it was a magnificent old fortress, remodeled into a very comfortable abode and he in no way impugned his brother-in-law’s inheritance, but Erik also wasn't prone to such distressing nightly fantasies, either. This was twice since he moved in. He was all set to marry Tillie. The venue was booked, the engraved invitations all sent, the responses counted and the number turned over to the caterers. The mixologist hired, as well as a musician, which was odd, but Erik concurred that his doing the entertaining wasn't appropriate. All was ready for the big day. He just had to bide his time.

In his dream, everything that could go wrong, did. The people invited arrived, except for his parents, which was very strange. His three brothers were also curiously missing, although his two sisters-in-law showed up. That should have been his first clue that the event was staged in his unconscious and not a reality. One of the caterers was busy flirting with Erik, and sadly, his knees went soft as she stroked his cheek. Tillie, looking as beautiful as ever saw this, and was understandably upset. Seeing her jumping up and down in a tantrum, wedding gown and all was disconcerting and so very unlike her. Even when they dated her reaction to his fans’ ardor was sadness. Leila was the one who acted like a two year old. 

As soon as his breathing slowed to normal, Erik pulled himself out of his cushy, plush bed and headed into his private bathroom to shower and shave. Realizing today was the Day, made him think the dream was merely his ‘cold feet’ reaction. Then he laughed at himself. This is what he had wanted for so long. He finally found the One, so why should he succumb to such a  stereotype?  “Erik James Cantrell, you’re losing it, buddy,” he told his image in the mirror.

Once he was dressed, he headed downstairs to the kitchen for  a bite to eat. He had a gig come the late morning. Part of the double-bookings to accommodate his many fans, in a vast campaign to keep his status from slipping. Brianna was in the kitchen busily decorating the tiered cake for his wedding, she had baked last night.

“Hey, that smells and looks great!” Erik said, standing nearby, munching on a bowl of cold cereal. “Thanks, Sis.”
“Oh, you’re more than welcome. I’m just glad I could do this for you. Oh, where are you off to?”
“Gig.”
“Don’t’ forget the wedding is at five.”
Erik just grinned at his sister. “Not to worry, I had enough trouble reeling this one in, there’s no way I’m going to forget about tonight.”
Brianna put a hand on her hip and gave her older brother a look. “I just meant, give yourself enough time to change for the wedding. Besides, you may need to shave again by then. You know,” she gestured to her face around her chin. “Five o’clock shadow.”
“Shaving. Well, I could …” he smirked, stroking his smooth chin. “Unless I decide to grow one.”
Holding the decorator bag to the side of the cake, Brianna began to create the puffy swags out of the creamy white frosting. She stopped what she was doing to cast him a wary glance. “Grow one?”
“Yeah, a beard. You know like our Dad.”
“Huh, fine with me what you do, but what about Tillie?”
“Tillie, hm. Guess I should clear that one with her, eh?”
“Ah, … yeah. It’s the little things like that, that make for a good marriage. The last thing you need to do is rock the boat of matrimony just as you set sail on that sea.”
“See, that’s why it’s good I have a little sister like you.” Bending down, since Brianna was short, and Erik was over six feet tall, he gave her a peck on the cheek. Brianna slapped at his hand as he also tried to stick a finger in the icing, thinking her distracted.
“You can taste it later.” She frowned. “I don’t have time to redo it, now go.”

The day was hot. Erik was very glad the venue was an outdoor stage. What he didn't expect was the rush of Sims to join him on said stage. Dressed in his usual summer gig outfit, shorts a tee and his hat, he used his cell to ‘clock-in’ with the SimsRock Music Booking Company. Then he took up the microphone and proceeded to belt one out. Three hours later, the crowd still clapping and shouting for more, Erik who had already left the stage returned. He raised a hand at them, smiled and said, “One more for the road. I have another engagement this evening.” He then played a fan favorite.

By the time he reached Grayson Castle, Erik felt the heat of the late afternoon. Not only did he need that shave Brianna had teased him about, but he could use a nice cool shower, too. All was quiet when he walked inside the large, ancient Keep. He soon realized his identical twin nephews were fast asleep in their little toddler beds, so that they would be in a good humor come the wedding. The baby fast asleep in her bassinet. Erik quietly made his way up the additional two flights of stone stairs to his ‘suite’. He had a small anteroom where he kept his equipment just outside of his fourth floor bedroom. The bathroom was adjacent to the bedroom and couldn't be entered by any other means. He could enjoy total privacy. The Stan that hung around out back, not withstanding.

Taking his time in the shower, cooling down his body temperature, he was finally ready to dress and head down to the WeddingCastle. A tad ironic he thought, going from one castle to another. He was excited. He quickly donned his black tuxedo with the dark red cummerbund and bow tie, carefully removing it from the dry cleaner’s plastic. He sat on the edge of his bed to put on his black socks and the shiny Corfam black dress shoes. The one thing he found great about this castle, was how cool it was even in the summer. A bit drafty and cold in the winter, but all things in life were pretty much a give and take proposition.

Taking the stairs two at a time down to the second floor, he met his brother-in-law all dressed in his native formal wear and looking as sharp as Spock always did. His sister was equally decked out in her formal wear. A vision in teal. The two boys were very cute in their wee black suits, too. Shorts, jackets, itty bitty bow ties and all.
“Ah, there you are. My, don’t you cut a fine figure, Brother of mine.”
“Ah, yes, but your tie — Please allow me to help you with that,” Spock said, walking toward Erik to address the 'mess'.
“That bad, huh?”

Brianna just nodded her head as her husband fixed Erik’s less than straight bow tie. The five of them got into the pre- air conditioned limousine and headed over to Willow Creek and the WeddingCastle. Luckily traffic was light and they arrived there before much of the guests. Brianna was able to get the cake placed on the table set aside for it with it needing only a minimal amount of ‘repair’ work on the icing. The hired help all arrived on schedule.

At last, their parents and siblings arrived, along with the rest of the family and a few trusted close friends. Erik and Tillie thought it best to keep things as low-key as possible. They both had their agents and Tillie had an assistant and just a few friends from the office. Erik smiled and waved at them as they came in. Tillie hadn't arrived, yet, as far as he knew, although she had elected to spend the night with her assistant so the groom wouldn't see her in her gown until the wedding. She had to be just outside, he thought. Tillie was an orphan and had no family. Erik wondered if she could handle the extensive Cantrell Clan she was about to marry into.

After the nightmare Erik suffered, he was fully glad not to be hounded by fans and photographers, only having to pose for the traditional wedding type photos, or so he thought. Although, he did sign an autograph for one of the professionals they’d hired. An assistant to the Caterer. She was young, pretty and so very polite as she dared approach him. “Mister Cantrell,” she began. “I know this is probably not the time, but I was hoping, before the wedding got started, that is to say—” She hesitated, bit her lower lip and handed him a glossy photo of himself. “Would you be so kind as to sign this photo? It would mean the world to me, please. I love you so much. And later, there simply won’t be a moment.”

Smiling, as he took the photo and opened the pen she handed him, Erik began signing his autograph on the front of the photo, in the lower corner, as per his usual habit. At that very moment, the young adult  having lost her shyness, to Erik’s surprise, stroked his cheek, in a most flirty manner. Again, almost involuntarily, his knees went weak, just as in his dream. She was a pretty little thing… Suddenly, as if the nightmare was a harbinger, Tillie, who had just arrived in time to witness his abhorrent behavior, was jumping up and down throwing a massive fit.

Out of the corner of his eye, Erik saw the Birdcage veil attached to the vintage Pillbox cap she wore flapping slightly as she went airborne just to come back down again. Up and down and up and down, she must have jumped three times. When he got a good look at his bride, she was the epitome of beauty in her virginal white gown, her hair worn in an up do, her jewelry understated. What was that he just witnessed? Why? Apparently, he was no longer allowed to ‘play’ with his fans — because really, he was just playing, wasn't he? Of course, he loved Tillie, he told himself.

Not only that, but behind the bride the press came flooding in through the glass front doors of the wedding chapel. Cameras snapping, flashes blinding him. No sooner had the caterer’s hand left his cheek, the questions began. He knew they had caught all of it, or most of it on camera. He could see the headlines, now. “Erik Cantrell Flirts With the Help On Wedding Day.”  Humiliated, Erik was full of loathing at that very moment. Was this her secret revenge, or simply a cheap publicity stunt? Had she set him up? So much for their wedding being low-key. She’d brought a press-gaggle along. Rage filled his being starting at his toes and working its way all the way passed his glasses to the roots of his platinum blond hair. He needed to take a jog to clear his head, but not at this moment.

Just as quickly, he realized he couldn't live his life like this. Questioning if he even knew what love was, he realized, it was over. Any feelings he had for her were no longer. Murdered, as they were, by this callous stunt.

Taking Tillie by her gloved hand, he led her aside.
“Erik, what is it?” she said, giving him an innocent look. A timid smile playing on her full ruby lips.
Erik leaned down into her. “I’m very sorry, this isn't right.” He murmured, into her right ear. “I can’t do this. Please forgive me.”
“What? Erik, no. You can’t do this to me. It’ll be all over the pages!”

“Oh, no? Till, it’s already all over the pages. You brought them with you,” he gestured toward the group of news hounds swarming about the beleaguered couple again, even as he left her side to come stand in front of the wedding arch.

One shoved a microphone at him. Erik gently took it from her hand, “Do you mind?” he said, receiving a shrug from the reporter. Then holding the microphone to his face, he addressed the crowd of Sims before him. “I want to thank each and every one of you who came out today to help us celebrate our nuptials. The bride has informed me, however, that she simply can’t go through with it. I quite understand, I mean, look at me. Who can blame her, right?” Erik flashed the group a sardonic grin. “But I would ask you, please, since we have already taken up your evening, do stay and enjoy the food, the band, and some dancing. Thank you again. All of you, my family included. Good night.”

Erik handed the microphone back to the Paparazzi, from whom he borrowed it. She stood there, along with her colleagues, their collective jaws agape. With a quick movement, he slipped a finger into the bow tie to unleash it. Nodding at those behind him, he quietly and with as much dignity as he could muster, left the venue.