Surrounded. The place was jam packed with Gnomes. They left glitter everywhere in their wake as they danced and shook their beards, lending more sparkle to the backdrop. A throuple I’d been introduced to as Weevel, Glittaria, and Pricklypants, fawned over the bright blue, white spotted lizard being equivalent of a puppy they’d named Speck.
Her dress was sleeveless, a soft, creamy white with green accents. The tie coming around the empire waist, a soft lavender, accentuated the soft swell of her belly. It looked like someone had taken a wide brush and watercolored green across it, the skirts of her dress making her look like she was layered in petals. Gren’s flower, as he was wont to call her, literally, looked like a flower. A tall, prettily pregnant one. Green hadn’t taken his eyes off of her since the moment she’d taken that single, barefooted step onto the soft soil they’d insisted their wedding was to be held, right there on the edge of their marsh. Gren’s dark green suit would have been odd, but it went well with the lighter green shirt and grass green cummerbund, soft green tie to match her dress. The real fashion crime was his pant legs rolled up, exposing his gorilla hairy stems for milk white legs to the world. I could have done without seeing those. The fat purple streak in Gren’s hair was an exact match to his mate’s, Aster’s hair bursting with vines and blossoms, softly curled and hanging loosely about her.
I was a bit green of my friend, the irony of that comment not lost on me, watching his beaming, statuesque bride. She was madly in love with Gren. She lit up the second he entered a room.
The lovely couple slow danced to “Yours” by Russell Dickerson.
Seidon, with his precocious daughter in her little green suit and Princess Leia hair, holding her in his arms, sang, Birnie’s sweet voice quietly singing along, her little hands brushing her daddy’s scarred cheek, had more than a few eyes a little less dry.
Seidon’s queen, Permelia, was looking particularly glossy-eyed in a dark purple maternity dress, her mate’s steady gaze meeting hers as he serenaded her as much as the newlyweds.
Brine, holding his very pregnant female in his lap, softly sang backup, his hands roving over her burgeoning baby bump.
Brushe and Brine’s father, Birne, held Bruxe, his grandson, one of Permlia and her harem’s three children. Little Bruxe was already half asleep on his pup-pup, clutching the collar of his grandfather’s dress shirt. Brushe, playing guitar, sitting opposite Seidon and Permelia and Brine, grinned as Ceidon, sitting on his Deedoo’s massive shoulders, tapped along with his little hands along his daddy’s forehead.
Ben, Pen, their twins, and very recent newest addition, Venellope Rose, Veni or Rosie, for short, a robust baby girl with a wild blue eye and head full of pale white curly hair, were happy to sit in the corner and watch, in a world all their own. Ben had that look on his face again, that deliriously happy look in his eye. I’d never been more happy for my best friend, or wanted to slap the look off his face harder.
Ben leaned towards his mate and kissed her solidly on the mouth. The boys giggled but didn’t make the typical ewwww noises one expected from little boys of their age, because their father, hard as he may try to be on the outside, was a total mush pot who raised his sons with the idea that love was beautiful. Lifting his paw of a mitt, his finger smoothed over the side of his baby girl’s head as she fussed. Veni was vocal, a wild tempered screamer, as I liked to reflect on it. I’d never seen a more proud daddy over his adamant babe. I’d never so thoroughly mentally told myself I’d spoil Veni but babysitting a mini-Ben, you couldn’t pay me.
Alfred, now fully bearded but shorter locked, danced with Kat. She was looking about to pop, her emerald green gown giving one the impression she was smuggling a basketball beneath it. One hand around the back of her mate’s neck, the other stroking his reddish blonde beard, I could hear her softly humming to her mate as they stared into each other’s eyes from all the way over here. B danced around her parents like the music was polka and not a sweet slow dance, tiny white flower crown fluttering petals around her, the skirt of her soft purple dress belling around her.
In a suit similar to Birnie’s, if with a ruffled dress shirt beneath it like she was channeling an eighties vibe, her hair in victory rolls as opposed to B’s wild and loose hair style or lack thereof, Alice held onto her daddy’s leg, spinning out a little to bring herself back in. Calliope led Beaux in a very slow dance, his large, wide eyes staring at her wonderingly in her light blue, puffy sleeved dress and shiny white shoes, unsteady on his little legs. Dangling from her daddy’s back, Deedee was just hanging there like a little monkey as Alfred made goo-goo eyes at their mother, the whole scene was chaotic and comical. It held something else for me.
Dax and Cinnia stood on the fringes, Dax taking pictures while Cinnia rocked their daughter, Anath, in her arms.
They all looked happy. I could taste it, the stink of green jelly filling me. I admitted this grudgingly. Much as I denied needing someone, I was feeling the pinch.
Picking at my cake, shaking my head at all the tiny green pickle shaped sprinkles dotting the light green buttercream frosting, I sighed heavily. I had no desire to admit anything to anyone, not after the way I’d been running my mouth the last few months, insisting I was perfectly content with my life as is.
“Uncle Willy?” Violet murmured, dragging me from my thoughts.
“What was that, sweetheart?” I muttered, blinking. Segrid’s kids were shooting up fast, growing at almost nearly double the rate of a Human child physically. They were still very much little ones still, though. I perhaps catered to them the most. Life was precious, especially the younger years, and their childhoods were going to be drastically shorter than most. Soon she’d be the equivalent of a teenager, Dre following shortly after.
“Da is helping Dre find his shoes. He lost them. And Mama is feeding Pip,” she said on a long sigh. Pip, or Pippelophe, pronounced Pip-elle-o-phy, Segrid having chosen his youngest’s unique name, going with a more Ornthren style traditional naming, was a fiery red haired cherub with a sweeter temperament than her chubby cheeked face.
Hopeful purple eyes widened, until the look Vi was giving me bordered on pitiful.
I found fulfillment in being honorary uncle to my chosen family’s younglings. Even more so, the happiness that filled me spoiling them.
“Come, you wretched little beast,” reaching out, I flicked the tip of her nose, “I suppose I shall come to your rescue.”
Vi crowed, then nearly dragged me from my seat and out onto the dance floor.
I wasn’t on the floor but two seconds, Vi in a half twirl, before Alfred’s pack of girls and Ben’s twins were flocking me with shouts of, “Me, too! Ooh! Oh! Me, Uncle Billy! Me! Me next! My turn! ”
Jules’ very emphatic, “You can’t hogallof him, Violet!” had those at the tables nearest, his parents included, chuckling at the rush to dance with their shortest adult male relation at this event.
I supposed one might find it insulting, to be ranked by how close I was to the ground, but it just proved I was the favorite, Penelope notwithstanding, and I’d take any chance to lord it over wolfboy Alfred over there I could get. Heh.
Epilogue
Aster
“My flower? Leif?” Gren called, stepping into the back office that doubled as the playroom for the children in the nursery. The Fallon-Marsh Nursery expansion was nearly finished. Glittaria ran the second site with her mates in New Horn Springs.
“In here!” I called, finishing up buttoning Fonna’s little onesie.
Leif sat near the rug, entertaining his baby sisters, Fiona and Flora, with squishably soft foam block towers. His white blonde hair had streaks of purple and green in it, his eyes a cross between the lime green in mine and darker hunter green of Gren’s.
