Back on the foreigner van, we discussed what the rest of the evening might hold in store. Nate had warned us of his inlaws' proclivity for heavy drinking and tireless dancing that often lasts past noon on the following day. But these people seemed so stiff (not in a stuffy way, but in a crisp, Baltic kind of way). It was difficult to picture them slamming drinks and shaking it on the dance floor to George Michael...or even Journey for that matter.
As I was flipping through my mental catalogue of "that-would-be-funny" wedding song selections, the van pulled over. We were in the middle of nowhere. What was going on? The driver motioned for us to get out and when we did, we noticed a bridge stretching out ahead. OMG, was this really happening? As we walked toward the the bridge, I glanced at Nate's mom who looked more than a little nervous. This bridge was no tiny brook crossing--it was long.
One of the relatives signaled Nate to pick up his bride and carry her across. Stauber immediately took out his camera and began grinning ear to ear. And me? I just hoped that nothing happened to Lina's dress. Or Nate's back. OMG.
The next few minutes seemed unreal. As if it were nothing, Nate scooped up his gorgeous, 6-foot-tall bride and whisked her across the bridge, with the river beneath. The moment had the feeling from one of those 80s movies when the lovable protagonist accomplishes the seemingly impossible, like when the Nerds beat the Alpha Betas to win the Greek Games in Revenge of the Nerds (not that Nate is a nerd, but he does wear glasses). He carried her the entire distance with confidence and grace. Everyone cheered on the side of the road, in a mix of Lithuanian and English.