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Somehow Simon Anthony learned of Barbara's wedding. Now financially ruined, Anthony spent most of his time dead drunk so he really had no idea how he had learned of the event. Nevertheless, he did know about it and, sober for a change, shaved and dressed carefully for the first time in many weeks. My God! he thought. Since that dinner at the Collins, I've been in a drunken stupor almost constantly.
Anthony was still drunk when he returned to their apartment after the party. The next day he began a binge that ultimately destroyed him. Although he had no memory of it, in just a few weeks he went from a very small apartment on the Upper East Side with a good but overpriced address — even in New York terms — to a rooming house, which more accurately would be called a flophouse. The $30,000 that he'd scraped up to pay as interest to Collins was all gone, although only Heaven knew where.
Somehow he managed to sober up enough actually to get to the church where the wedding was scheduled. After entering the church by a side door he found a seat in the back. While waiting for the ceremony to begin, he looked around and was astonished to see both Jeffrey and Susan Collins sitting across from him. His astonishment derived from the fact that Jeff was wearing a chauffeur's uniform while Susan was wearing a very strange-looking poncho-type garment.
But why aren't they in the wedding? he wondered. After all, they own Barbara now. While he was still puzzling over both their strange appearance and their presence at the back of the church the organist shifted from incidental music to the Wedding March.
Hearing the so-familiar music along with the rest of the people — Simon was surprised at how many people there were — he rose and faced toward the rear. A small dark-haired girl appeared at the rear archway. After taking a deep breath she began to walk in a beautifully measured pace up the aisle. She was the most beautiful child he had ever seen and was obviously so happy she bubbled.
Now he was really puzzled. Although certainly not an expert on weddings, he thought he remembered the procession sequence as being the bridesmaids, then the maid of honor, followed by the flower girl and ring bearer and then by the bride. But where were the bridesmaids? The beautiful girl was clearly the flower girl — and a very beautiful one she was, too.
Then he was startled to see an incredibly beautiful woman dressed in white enter on the arm of a very handsome young man. Although he'd never met him, Simon made it a point to be able to recognize most of the wealthiest men in New York. Accordingly, he was able instantly to identify Jack Taylor, probably the richest New Yorker of them all. Simon was confident that his net worth — possibly not even counting his wife's — exceeded $10 billion. His wife, Andrea, had billions in her own right.
Looking at the woman on Taylor's arm, Simon was stunned. It had to be Barbara, but it couldn't be.
But it was! Even through his alcohol-fogged brain he remembered that the night he sold her into slavery her hair had been hacked off short, and this woman's hair was in that style. Her features were utterly exquisite and she moved with the elegance and grace of a queen. But what happened? he wondered.
When the couple reached the altar, the woman bent down so the little girl could draw back her white veil. She did it with the happiest, most impish-looking little grin Simon could imagine. Jack Taylor, meanwhile, looked on with the pride he would show if she really were his daughter. With her veil drawn back he gave her a loving kiss and then put her hand into the big man's who had been waiting for her.
Looking at the groom, he represented to Simon everything he himself could never be. He was tall and slim but with a very powerful build. Thinking about himself, Simon was utterly appalled. Now he weighed nearly 300 pounds in spite of being only five feet six inches tall. Moreover, he knew that with the very small size of his erect penis coupled with his obesity and Barbara's, he doubted if he'd ever even penetrated her body. And now, with the priest beginning the wedding mass, he realized that he and Barbara had been married by a municipal court judge. They had not been married in the church and, in fact, had never set foot in one for the entire duration of their marriage.
As the ceremony moved along Simon Anthony became even more puzzled. First, it was now quite clear that the child was, in fact, the only bridesmaid — the maid of honor, he supposed. The best man, on the other hand, was almost a carbon copy of the groom: six feet three, about 225 pounds with sun-streaked brown hair. Then the congregation took seats while an older priest climbed up to the pulpit.
When Simon learned who the bridesmaid was he was astounded. The priest, incredibly, put Barbara in the same category. Then he learned that the groom and the best man were both real military heros of the highest order. Utterly dumbfounded, he remained in a daze for the rest of the ceremony. Remarkably, he could hear every word when Barbara spoke her marriage vows. When she did, he was impressed with the beauty and warmth of her voice.
Finally, when the couple embraced and the golden light enveloped them, Anthony was astounded. Then he realized that what he'd heard earlier was nothing but the simple truth: Barbara was blessed by God Himself. When the best man swept the little girl up in his arms to protect her, the golden light enveloped them, too. Almighty God is blessing this wedding! he realized.
There was something else, though, that finally penetrated his alcohol-fuzzed brain. When Barb turned to face her new husband and raised her arms to embrace him, he realized for the first time that she was not only incredibly beautiful, she was actually years younger! He wasn't certain of her age — typically he cared nothing for other people, except for what they might do for him — but he was pretty sure she was nearly thirty-five. But today she looked so much younger — not even twenty-one!
When the ceremony ended, Anthony remained seated in the pew in a daze. Only when the church had completely emptied did he get to his feet and make his way outside. At that point he made up his mind to attend the reception that he figured would almost certainly be at the Collins apartment. Finding his way over to the building, he was glad that he'd had the foresight to shave and to wear a decent suit. Fortunately, other guests from the church were entering the building at the same time so he wasn't challenged by security. Joining the group, he went up in the private elevator car with them.
The only other time he'd been to the apartment — the awful night when he sold Barbara into slavery — the unit was beautiful. This time it was both beautiful and wonderfully festive. The door was held open with a door stop and the newly-arriving guests just walked in. Following along behind, he found himself in the magnificent living room.
There an incredibly beautiful woman was holding a tray of champagne glasses. His eyes bugged when he realized she was stark naked. It was Colette, wearing only a large white bow on the back of her head and a tiny one in her pubic hair. Today she, Ellen Duncan and Susan were serving the guests. Alone among the three she didn't know Simon Anthony on sight.
Looking at him she offered him a glass of champagne and then said, "As a slave, I'm available to be fondled by the guests. Since you seem to be preoccupied with my tits, why don't you just feel one? They're really quite nice."
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