In sickness and in health

- “Dad, Andrey and I are getting married” – said Katia as she finished another glass of plum wine.
- “… Well, sweetheart… That’s very sad.”
- “Why is it sad?”
- “You’re only 17.”
-“I’ll be 18 by the time we’re married. So why is it sad?”
- “You will not be my girl anymore. We won’t be able to travel or go to wine tasting. You’ll soon forget your poor old father...”
Katia felt her cheeks burning – it was either wine or resentment, or maybe both. She was on the verge of crying. Dad was Katia’s last hope.
Everyone who heard the great news reacted in a similar way:
-          “You’ll soon regret it, dear. On the other hand, you can always divorce. Just make sure he doesn’t get all the property” – said Katia’s mother, placing two slices of cucumber on her eyelids.
-           “You are clearly brainwashed. However, it’s your problem.” – muttered Katia’s older sister.
-          “Make sure he never sees you naked” – said Katia’s grandma – “Do you know where you will hide your underwear?”
-          “Couldn’t you find anyone taller and a bit older?” – asked Andrey’s sister.
-          “You haven’t done anything improper, have you?” – was how Andrey’s mother reacted.
-          “I always knew sexual education at school would lead to no good” – stated Katia’s uncle.
-          “You are now lost for Germanic philology” – declared the English grammar professor in front of all Katia’s group mates.
Katia didn’t plan to get married before the age of 25. Her marriage was an  impetuous concourse of circumstances that completely messed up her plans. However, now it was a matter of principle. Katia spent days making up potential advantages of married life:
“ I won’t have to wash the dishes. I’ll pile them up and wash them as soon as I’m in the mood for it.  I will throw around clothes. I won’t have to ask permission to go out and rush across the city to make it home on time. I’ll be able to lie in a hot tub for hours without any unnecessary disturbance. I will champ, slurp, lick my fingers and hold a fork in the left hand. I will never put onions in soup and will always slice carrots in rings instead of cubes. I will eat pickles out of a jar and will leave my bed unmade…”
One way or another, there was no turning back. The date was already set and the guests were invited. Katia always despised the post-soviet wedding traditions, when worn-out bride and groom are dragged around the city in a ridiculously long limousine and photographed kissing at every historical site despite of the heat, cold, rain or wind. The miserable couple is always escorted by a herd of drunk guests, who are most often clueless of the subject of rejoicing, due to the large amounts of drinks. Tangling in the massive ruche of the white wedding dress and suffocating under a thick layer of makeup the bride must climb a white horse, ride a small circle and pose for a photo.
-          “Could it be a very small wedding? No dress, just relatives. We could have it at our apartment.” – Katia begged.
-          “No, I have to invite all the institute teachers – it’s protocol requirement, friends will be upset if we do not invite them. Then there are relatives and whoever else wants to come. Should be around 150 people.” – said Andrey.
-          “150 totally unknown people! This is crazy. Look, a wedding is something very private. Let’s not reduce it to absurdity. Besides, who’s paying for it?”
-          I’ll save up.
-          No dress then.
-          You must have a dress.
-          No veil.
-          Your head has to be covered in church. I don’t want any gossip.
-          Then no white horse.
-          Agreed.
-          Hang on, you haven’t even proposed yet!
-          What for? It’s settled.
-          I need something for the record.
-          OK. Will you marry me? – Andrey mumbled reluctantly, pressing the buttons on the remote.
-          Aha.

The following months bride and groom spent searching for affordable shoes, suit, tie, dress and other pointless wedding accessories. The night before the big day friends and relatives made 10 giant basins of salads and tons of apple pie.

Katia’s wedding day began with a painful hairdressing procedure. Her hair was pulled back so tight she could hardly blink.
-          “Quit whining!” – snapped the stern hairdresser, as she abundantly poured out hair lacquer on Katia’s  drooping head – “This way nobody will see your wrinkles.”
Katia felt as if a saucepan was placed on top of her head. She grabbed a cookie, groaned and attempted to squeeze in her wedding dress trying to neither drop the cookie nor mess up the saucepan hairdo.
Fully dressed, Katia stood on the porch of her house and chewed gum, attracting everybody’s attention. The groom got into a traffic jam and was 20 minutes late. Finally, the rusted rattling old piece of junk, which could once be called car crept towards the house.
-            Get in! – shouted the groom, radiating with joy.
Katia threw out the gum and stuffed herself in the car.
Bored guests crowded the backyard of the church when, finally, the car with the bride and groom arrived. The door opened and out popped the white dress followed by the bride.
-          “I have to go to the bathroom” – grumbled the bride and made a dash for the toilet.
-          “Are you mad! We’re more than an hour late! What will people say!” – grumbled the groom and pulled the bride inside the church.
-          “I’ll burst and flood the church.”
-          “You have a long dress, none will see”.

All Katia could think of during the long and agonizing service was TOILET. She looked around – hardly any familiar faces. Katia’s mom was reaching from behind a priest’s shoulder to take a good picture of her daughter.
-          “Smile, honey!” – cried mom, taking no notice of the deacon reading a prayer.
Katia was too tense to smile, but her mom was by all means determined to take a picture of her smiling daughter in white dress. Mom started making faces to force her daughter to laugh. Katia had to put an end to this torture – she grinned and satisfied mom ran to join other guests.

The service was finally over and bride and groom were attacked by a crowd of guests with presents, flowers and wishes of long and happy life. Further events were to take place at the banquette hall. Katia once again squeezed in the rusty car. It rattled away and at the first turn got into another traffic jam. It was 40 more minutes of torture for Katia.
 
As soon as the car stopped at the banquette hall Katia pulled up the skirt and ran for the toilet as fast as she could. In the doorway stood Katia’s smiling friend holding out a giant bouquet of roses.
-          “Forget the damn roses! I need your help!” – squeaked Katia.

Katia let out a sigh of relief  as she sat on the long awaited toilet seat. Her friend was holding the skirt above her head.
-          “Are you going for a world record? My hands are tired.” – complained Katia’s friend.
-          “Wait, I need time to recover.”
Then followed the banquette with dances, songs and toasts.
Katia’s mom got up and said that she was truly impressed with Andrey’s courage. Not every man would have the guts to marry her daughter.
Katia’s dad said a quick toast, gave Katia a kiss and ran off to a business meeting.
Katia’s grandma stood up and said that she wrote a wonderful poem for her granddaughter. She was extremely proud of it. Unfortunately she forgot where she had left it, but assured everyone that  it was a masterpiece.
Andrey’s dad said he was proud to have a daughter in law who could milk a cow.
One of the teachers admitted that he admired the bride, but would prefer if she wore a veil.

This madness continued till midnight. Traditionally, bride and groom had to be left alone for the wedding night. The night before the wedding Andrey’s parents handed their son the keys to an old apartment in the suburbs of Moscow. The apartment hadn’t been used for the past 6 years. It was a disaster zone. Piles of broken furniture were covered with a thick layer of dust, windows were black and cracked, big double bed was covered with overwrap, which fell into pieces the second it was touched.

-          “ I’ll try to take a shower” – Katia said.
-          “And I’ll try to beat the dust out of the mattress.” – Andrey replied.
Katia opened the tap. It croaked, spat out large chunks of rust and brownish water jet out. The hope of washing off the saucepan hairdo was gone.
-          “Are you hungry?” – Andrey asked.
-          “You bet.”

Before Andrey and Katia left the banquette hall someone handed them a large plastic Coca Cola bottle with cut off neck and filled with salad. It was the only food Andrey and Katia had all day. They sat on the floor and greedily scooped the salad with their hands. They spent the rest of the night unwrapping the presents and consuming whatever was edible using the wrappers to wipe their hands.
At 5 am a car came to pick up the newly wedded couple to take them to the airport. A wonderful two week honeymoon trip to Spain was a wedding present from the relatives.
Katia sat in the plane nervously waiting for her lunch. Finally the stewardess brought the lunch trays.
-          “Could  I eat your lunch too?” – Katia asked her husband with a disarming smile.
-          “Well” – he hesitated – “Go ahead. Could you at least give me the chocolate bar?”
-          “I vitally need chocolate myself. You’re a man, you can wait.”
On the way to the hotel Katia felt a chill. By the time they got to their room her teeth were clattering and her knees were shaking. She had fever. It was definite food poisoning.
Katia spent a whole week either in bed or embracing the toilet seat. Pale and exhausted she lay on the bed listening to the distant sounds of the surf.

“Perhaps, the worse is the wedding the better the marriage. Let’s wait and see.” – thought Katia and drowned in sleep.