The Wedding
Page 61With her hair pinned up, she looked impossibly glamorous. Her peach satin gown clung to her body invitingly, and her lips were a glossy pink. She wore just enough eye shadow to accent her dark eyes, and when she saw my expression, she paused, basking in my appreciation.
“You look . . . incredible,” I managed to say.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
A moment later, she was moving toward me in the foyer. As she approached, I caught a whiff of her new perfume, but when I leaned in to kiss her, she pulled away before I got close.
“Don’t,” she said, laughing. “You’ll smudge my lipstick.”
“Really?”
“Really,” she said, and batted my grasping hands away. “You can kiss me later—I promise. Once I start crying, my makeup will be ruined anyway.”
“So where’s Anna?”
She nodded toward the stairs. “She’s ready, but she wanted to talk to Leslie alone before she came down. Some last minute bonding, I guess.” She gave a dreamy smile. “I can’t wait for you to see her. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more beautiful bride. Is everything ready to go?”
“As soon as he gets the word, John will start playing the processional music.”
Jane nodded, looking nervous. “Where’s Daddy?”
She nodded again. “What time is it?”
I glanced at my watch. “Eight o’clock,” I said, and just as Jane was about to ask whether she should go get Anna, the door creaked open upstairs. We both looked up at the same time.
Leslie was the first to appear, and like Jane, she was the picture of loveliness. Her skin had the dewiness of youth, and she bounced down the stairs with barely suppressed glee. Her dress was also peach colored, but unlike Jane’s, it was sleeveless, exposing the tawny muscles in her arms as she gripped the railing. “She’s coming,” she said breathlessly. “She’ll be down in a second.”
Joseph slipped through the door behind us and moved alongside his sister. Jane reached for my arm and, surprised, I noticed that my hands were trembling. This was it, I thought, it all comes down to this. And when we heard the door open upstairs, Jane broke into a girlish grin.
“Here she comes,” she whispered.
Yes, Anna was coming, but even then my thoughts were only on Jane. Standing beside me, I knew at that moment that I’d never loved her more. My mouth had gone suddenly dry.
When Anna appeared, Jane’s eyes widened. For just a moment, she seemed frozen, unable to speak. Seeing her mother’s expression, Anna descended the stairs as quickly as Leslie had, one arm behind her back.
The dress she wore was not the one that Jane had seen her wearing only minutes earlier. Instead, she wore the dress that I’d delivered to the house this morning—I had hung it in its garment bag in one of the empty closets—and it matched Leslie’s dress perfectly.
Before Jane could summon the will to speak, Anna moved toward her and revealed what she’d been hiding behind her back.
“I think you should be the one to wear this,” she said simply.
“Because I’m not getting married,” Anna said with a quiet smile. “Not yet, anyway.”
“What are you talking about?” Jane cried. “Of course you’re getting married. . . .”
Anna shook her head. “This was never my wedding, Mom. It’s always been your wedding.” She paused. “Why do you think I let you pick everything out?”
Jane seemed incapable of digesting Anna’s words. Instead, she looked from Anna to Joseph and Leslie, searching their smiling faces for answers, before she finally turned to me.
I took Jane’s hands in my own and raised them to my lips. A year of planning, a year of secrets, had come down to this moment. I kissed her fingers gently before meeting her eyes.
“You did say you’d marry me again, didn’t you?”
For a moment, it seemed as if the two of us were alone in the room. As Jane stared at me, I thought back on all the arrangements I’d made in secret over the past year—a vacation at exactly the right time, the photographer and caterer who just happened to have an “opening,” wedding guests without weekend plans, work crews able to “clear their schedule” in order to ready the house in just a couple of days.
It took a few seconds, but a look of comprehension slowly began to dawn on Jane’s face. And when she fully grasped what was happening—what this weekend was truly all about—she stared at me in wonder and disbelief.
“My wedding?” Her voice was soft, almost breathless.
I nodded. “The wedding I should have given you a long time ago.”
“I’ll tell you about it at the reception,” I said, draping it carefully over her head. “But right now, the guests are waiting. Joseph and I are expected up at the front, so I’ve got to go. Don’t forget the bouquet.”
Jane’s eyes were pleading. “But . . . wait . . .”
“I really can’t stay,” I said softly. “I’m not supposed to see you beforehand, remember?” I smiled. “But I’ll see you in just a few minutes, okay?”
I felt the guests’ eyes on me as Joseph and I made our way toward the trellis. A moment later, we were standing beside Harvey Wellington, the minister I’d asked to officiate.
“You do have the rings, right?” I asked.
Joseph tapped his breast pocket. “Right here, Pop. Picked them up today, just like you asked.”
In the distance, the sun was sinking below the treeline, and the sky was slowly turning gray. My eyes traveled over the guests, and as I heard their muted whispers, I was overcome by a surge of gratitude. Kate, David, and Jeff were seated with their spouses in the front rows, Keith was seated right behind them, and beyond them were the friends whom Jane and I had shared for a lifetime. I owed every one of them my thanks for making all of this possible. Some had sent pictures for the album, others had helped me find exactly the right people to help with the wedding plans. Yet my gratitude went beyond those things. These days, it seemed impossible to keep secrets, but not only had everyone kept this one, they’d turned out with enthusiasm, ready to celebrate this special moment in our lives.