At nine forty-five this morning, at the Beverly Hills City Hall, which is apparently the closest place that provides such services, Rachel Braude and Tim Groseclose will be officially joined in marriage, five days after the arrival of little Milo, will be along, but will remain in the car, under supervision, of course, so he won’t accidentally get a hold of the keys and drive away.
Sticklers may find these events to have occurred in a non-traditional order – Rachel and Tim met, Rachel got pregnant, Tim proposed, the baby came, and they got married – but when you’re in the middle of it and your eye’s on the ball - the ball being the couple's happiness - the rest just feels like bookkeeping.
You look at their faces. And that’s all you need to know.
Though they have not been a couple that long, Tim and Rachel project the aura of two amoeba who, sensing a kindred species, surrendered their boundaries, blending seamlessly into one.
They truly seem right together.
And my fondest wishes are with them.
A newly formed family.
Is on its way.