From there, the entire wedding party left the building and headed out to the chuppah for the official ceremony.
Jake had never been to a Jewish wedding before, neither orthodox, reformed, traditional, nor Star Trek. He found himself a little moved by the ritualism of the joining in matrimony. Nerdly took his place beneath the canopy with the rabbi. Jake and Matt stood behind him, outside the canopy. As Sharon, accompanied by her parents, made their way toward them, a cantor began to sing, his voice carrying easily across the entire rose garden. While he was singing, Nerdly suddenly began to speak, almost chant, long phrases in Hebrew.
"What the fuck's that shit he's spouting?" Matt whispered.
"He's praying that his friends will one day find true love as he himself has," the rabbi whispered back. "Now hush. This is a solemn occasion."
Matt hushed.
Sharon arrived at the canopy. She formed up with her mother and Nerdly's mother and, together, they began walking around Nerdly, circling him again and again while Nerdly, ignoring them, continued to pray in Hebrew. Finally, after seven orbits around Nerdly, Sharon took her place next to him beneath the canopy.
The rabbi poured a wine glass completely full of red wine. He said a blessing over the wine, talking of its symbolism of life itself and of how, with a little work and patience, a plain fruit can turn into a pleasurable drink, just as a plain friendship between a man and a woman can, with that same patience, be turned into a pleasurable life together. He then praised God, thanking him for the sanctity of the family and the Jewish people, thanking him for the union of souls His love allowed to exist on this day. He handed the wine glass to Nerdly. He and Sharon both drank from the wine.
At this point, Nerdly removed a plain gold ring from his pocket and placed it upon Sharon's finger, sliding it next to the large engagement ring she already possessed. "Behold," he said, in English this time. "You are sanctified to me with this ring, according to the Law of Moses and Israel." Sharon said nothing, although Jake thought he detected a small tear running down her cheek beneath the veil.
The rabbi handed Jake the ketuvah Nerdly had signed earlier. "If you would please read the text of the ketuvah to Sharon, Jake?" he asked.
"Right," Jake said. He read the three hundred or so words that made up the marriage contract. It was very similar to a Christian wedding vow, full of promises to love, respect, and honor his wife as long as they both might live. He also promised to make arrangements for her continued prosperity in the unfortunate event of a "premature end to the marriage".
Once the reading was done, Jake, at the direction of the rabbi, rolled up the ketuvah and presented it to Sharon. She clutched it to against her bosom, her hands gripping it nervously.
The rabbi began to talk again. He gave blessings, many of them, praising God and creation, expressing hope and happiness for the new couple, expressing hope for the Jewish people, and wishing for peace and prosperity in Israel. Nerdly and Sharon drank from the wine glass again, passing it back and forth until it was empty. Nerdly then set it on the ground, covered it with a handkerchief, and stomped on it.
"Mazaltov!" everyone yelled happily. The ceremony was complete.
The aftermath of the ceremony was much more along the lines of a Christian wedding than anything else Jake had experienced that day. The goal was simple: for the guests to eat, drink, dance, sing, and be merry. There was, of course, the inevitable half hour or so of photography that the wedding party was forced to endure. Every possible combination of every person present were posed and shot in numerous positions.
By the time Jake, Matt, Coop, and Charlie made it to the reception area, the party was in full swing. Musicians were playing and the drinks were flowing. Matt, still surly and uncommunicative, had no problem locating the scotch Nerdly had picked and helping himself to a few more shots of it. Once the bottle was empty, he left, not saying goodbye to a single person, not even waiting until Nerdly and Sharon emerged from the cheder yichud, or "room of privacy" where they were sequestered together for an hour after the end of the photography session.
The band played a lively, traditional tune as the newly married couple made their entrance. They were introduced to the crowd for the first time as husband and wife — Mr. and Mrs. William "Nerdly" Archer. Cries of mazaltov once again echoed through the room and the drinking and merrymaking kicked up a few notches in tempo.
Jake, as de facto best man, made a toast to the new couple. He kept it short enough to avoid annoying the crowd, but long enough to show he'd put some thought into it. He did not try to be humorous or overly sentimental. He simply expounded upon his lifelong friendship with Nerdly and wished him and his bride nothing but happiness in the new life they were starting.
Chapter 17b
Later, Jake, his mother, and Nerdly's mother took their places at the front of the room to perform the wedding song Jake had written for his friend. Jake picked up the battered acoustic guitar he used when composing. His mother removed the $18,000 Nicolas Lupot violin she played onstage with the Heritage Philharmonic from its case and put some rosin on her bow. Nerdly's mom sat down at a baby grand piano she'd arranged to have trucked here from her house.
As he had done with Celia's wedding song, Jake had written and composed the song himself, instilling in the lyrics what he thought the meaning of marriage and commitment was all about. The song was called All It Should Be and over the past eight weeks he had flown to Heritage on the weekends to rehearse it with the two women. It had been a strange yet rewarding experience putting together a song with two women who had regularly changed his diapers when he was a baby and who had always represented parental authority to him. He had been kind and competent but unquestionable in his direction to them. It had been awkward at first, but both of the mothers had spent their entire careers being told how and what to play and, once they accepted that he knew what he was doing (and that he wasn't going to make them jam out some sort of heavy metal atrocity) they fell neatly in line and treated him with the respect they would have given any competent composer. The end result, Jake thought, was something they should all be proud of.
Jake started out the song, strumming a complex, fingerpicked melody on the acoustic to set the tone. Mary then came in with a gentle background rhythm with the violin and then Cynthia set up a nicely mixed counter-rhythm with the piano. Jake began to sing, his voice un-amplified but strong enough to carry across the small room and find every ear. There were two verses, each followed by a brief chorus in which the two women joined him in three part harmony (this had been the toughest part of the rehearsal process, both of the mothers had decent singing voices but neither of them had ever had to use them in front of an audience before). Following the second chorus, Jake maintained the rhythm on the guitar while his mother performed a sweet, lively violin solo of her own composition. As Matt was the master of the electric guitar, Mary Kingsley was the master of the violin. She blended it perfectly, starting out with slow tempo, increasing it to a knee-tapping frenzy in the middle, and then slowing it back down to mix with the third verse and the final chorus. After the last word was sung, Jake and Mary both quietly let their instruments go mute while Cynthia performed a slowly decreasing piano solo of her own. When the song was over, the applause washed over the room and a standing ovation was given to the three musicians.
That was awesome, Jake thought in wonder as he linked arms with his mom on one side and Cynthia on the other. I just wowed an audience with a couple of fifty-five year old married women as my back-up. They took a bow.