Ficlet: Alma's Weddings
At Alma's first wedding I was the groom.
At her second wedding I wasn't invited.
At her third wedding I am the best man.
Stan's best man, because they never would have met if not for me and Jack.
What an irony: of all men in the world, she fell for our foreman as soon as she laid eyes on him, that day last November, three years after Monroe's death. My truck didn't start up, Jack was in Lightning Flat for the week and so she came to pick up Junior from the ranch.
She always hated ranches and ranch work. I can already hear her bitching about the long hours of work, about the night shifts when the foals are due, about the smell of her husband after a long days work in mid summer.
But that's not my problem anymore. After the marriage vows, I will step back and sit down beside my man.
I stifle a chuckle. Life moves in strange ways sometimes.
At her second wedding I wasn't invited.
At her third wedding I am the best man.
Stan's best man, because they never would have met if not for me and Jack.
What an irony: of all men in the world, she fell for our foreman as soon as she laid eyes on him, that day last November, three years after Monroe's death. My truck didn't start up, Jack was in Lightning Flat for the week and so she came to pick up Junior from the ranch.
She always hated ranches and ranch work. I can already hear her bitching about the long hours of work, about the night shifts when the foals are due, about the smell of her husband after a long days work in mid summer.
But that's not my problem anymore. After the marriage vows, I will step back and sit down beside my man.
I stifle a chuckle. Life moves in strange ways sometimes.