NEW IMPRESSIONS
Chapter Thirteen

November 17, 2001

"Oh...come on," Rose sighed to herself and ran her palm over a tiny wrinkle in her dress, trying to smooth it over. She noticed immediately that her hands were shaking, and frustrated, she folded them across her chest, moving her head so that she could see out of the window. She was in the small dressing room of the bridal suite at Mill Rose Inn in Half Moon Bay. The sun was shining through the glass, warming her face as she waited for Ruth to arrive. A quick glance at the antique clock on the wall told Rose that her mother was almost half an hour late, which was entirely unlike her. It wasn't enough that she was getting married in only two hours. Now she also had to worry about Ruth and her whereabouts. She knew of course that Ruth had arrived safely at the hotel in San Francisco last night. A last minute real estate closing had prevented Ruth from getting into town any earlier. Rose understood that her mother had not wanted to negotiate the narrow road leading to Half Moon Bay in the dark, but she was puzzled as to just what was keeping her this morning. She half wished that she would have insisted that her mother call when she was leaving the hotel. "I guess I would have heard if something bad had happened."

"Breathe...just breathe..." Rose whispered to herself several times, biting her lips in both anticipation and anxiety. She leaned against the plush window-seat, absentmindedly running her fingers over the smooth satin fabric of her wedding gown.

"My wedding dress..." A soft smile met her lips as she envisioned what this day would bring. She had worked painstakingly for five solid months planning this, and to think that the magical day had finally arrived, was beyond her wildest dreams. Never had she imagined that everything would fit together so amazingly. The flowers for the girls and Ruth had even arrived on time this morning, bright and early at 7 o'clock. Rose had overseen the final preparations for the outdoor wedding, checking all of the seating and decorations surrounding the beautiful white gazebo where she and Jack would be married. Ruth was in charge of making sure the caterers were right on schedule, and she was supposed to have been here at 9 o'clock. And as for the Jack...well, Rose knew he was around here somewhere. She only wondered if he was as excited or as jittery as she herself felt. Last evening she and Jack had driven down here after work and got settled at the inn. After dinner, they had met with the pastor and had taken a walk along the ocean in the moonlight. It had been chilly, but Jack had borrowed a blanket from the inn, and their last evening as singles passed romantically along the shore as they once more shared their dreams of the future. He had taken her back to her room and in his noble and old-fashioned way, bid her good night with a gentle kiss on the lips and his parting words that tomorrow the world would be theirs.

Now Rose stood and craned her neck to see the long driveway that led to the inn. It was an Old English-style cottage, complete with luscious gardens and ornate furniture. Jack had actually found the out of the way inn one morning while taking a detour to the city due to construction and the next day he had driven her here to see it. A little inquiry revealed that this wonderful place specialized in outdoor ceremonies and receptions. Rose could never have dreamed of a more perfect setting for their wedding. It was like a fairyland. To add to the ambiance, the gentle rumbling of the ocean could be heard just through the trees.

Rose began humming to herself as she traced the edges of the cherry wood vanity in front of her. She still had to do her hair and makeup, both of which Ruth would help her with once she finally got there. Nudged under the small silk bag that held the pins for her hair, Rose eyed the delicate white envelope that had arrived mysteriously in the mail this morning. She blinked and picked up the letter from her father, examining the careful penmanship on the outside. Of course she had sent him an invitation. After all, he was her father, no matter how long it had been since she'd last see him. She just had never expected any response. So when this two-page correspondence had shown up, she had experienced understandably mixed emotions. On the one hand, Rose felt she should be grateful for such a well-written and straightforward message from her father, something that was painfully rare. But on the other, was the impending realization that one of her own parents would not even be in attendance at her wedding. Paul Dewitt-Bukater was certainly gifted with words, and Rose was still trying to discern whether his lines of apology were genuine or not. Just as she was about to open the envelope and re-read the letter for the third or fourth time, she heard a car engine.

Her hands fumbled and she dropped the letter on the table again. Rose took a deep breath and peeked around the lace curtains. Sure enough, Ruth was hurriedly scurrying up the pathway, carrying a large white bag. She looked perfect in a stunning pale yellow suit, but it seemed that she was somewhat out of sorts. Rose smiled in relief and met her at the door, opening it as Ruth let out a long sigh.

"Oh Rose, darling. I'm so sorry for being late...you just wouldn't believe all that happened." Ruth edged her way into the room, setting down the contents of her hands and reaching to straighten the loose bun of auburn atop her head. She lifted her eyes and examined Rose, who appeared both amused and hopeful. "They gave me the wrong shoes in Seattle...they dyed them the wrong color. And I certainly couldn't wear moss green shoes with this outfit now could I?" Ruth laughed softly, running her hands over her flushed face, as she saw a huge grin on Rose's lips. Her daughter shook her head several times, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. "And then I ran into some horrible traffic on the way...you know it really is a little hard to find." Ruth paused and realized that she was babbling, out of nervousness possibly. But Rose was the one who deserved that privilege today. She laughed once more and opened her arms to Rose. She embraced her daughter carefully, as not to crease the soft material of the gown.

"It's okay, Mother. I was getting a little worried, but I knew you'd be here." Rose leaned back, delighted that her mother was here to help. "But we'd better get started on my hair I think...it's mess."

Ruth nodded, a tiny bit of moisture clouding her vision as she studied Rose. In just under two hours, her daughter would be a married woman. Time certainly traveled quickly, as Ruth could have sworn that it was only yesterday that she had very reluctantly met Jack Dawson. Now she could not even begin to imagine a more wonderful man for her only daughter. "Here we go now, Rose. You just sit here, and I'll..." Ruth's sentence trailed off as she noticed the envelope with the return address of London. Rose winced, silently berating herself for leaving it in such clear view. She watched as her mother lifted it slowly, almost as if the paper were tainted. "Is this from your father?" Rose let out a timid yes, surprised to hear that Ruth's voice had not taken on her usual derogatory tone when she mentioned her ex-husband. Her mother slid into a nearby chair and returned the letter to its place on the vanity. "What does he have to say?" She let out an almost sarcastic laugh and quickly caught herself. She hated to see that wistful, sad look in Rose's eyes. But for once, Rose seemed unaffected by the subject of her ever absent father.

"He...ah..." Rose pushed several curls behind her ear. Her voice was strong and smooth. "He wanted to say that he was sorry in advance...for not being here today. To tell the truth, I was actually a little surprised that he even acknowledged the invitation I sent."

"Oh, Rose..." Ruth swallowed and reached for her hand, holding it in her own, "You shouldn't have to deal with this on your wedding day. He has no right to..."

But Rose interrupted her, raising her free hand into the air, "That's just the point, Mother. He does have a right to communicate with me, to care about me. He just chooses not to do those things. And something like this..." Rose motioned with her head toward the letter, "is at least a step in some sort of new direction. Usually it's only a postcard or something totally inane like that...and this time, I think he actually put some thought and effort into what he wrote."

Ruth smiled tightly, nodding slightly to herself, "So what exactly did he say Rose?"

"Well...basically that there was no possible way for him to come...which I don't necessarily believe," Rose shook her head and laughed gently, "Oh, and let me see if I can remember...." Rose coupled two fingers on both of her hands, as if to quote her father's words with precision, "Please congratulate your husband for me. I am looking forward to meeting both of you here soon." Rose played with her manicured hands, trying to re-focus her mind. "Oh well..."

"You can't let him ruin this day for you, darling." Ruth stood and smiled warmly, running her palm over her daughter's red curls. "Maybe one day you and Jack can go see him...and try to figure all of this out. But for now, he's the one missing all the fun, right?" She received a brilliant grin from Rose in response to this comment. "Here, Rose, have a seat over here," she said pointing to the wicker chair in front of the mirror." As she reached for a brush to begin work on Rose's hair, she could see a glimmer of excitement in her daughter's green eyes.

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"Do you just want me to pull a few curls loose and let them hang down in back. I think it would look rather, well, you know…romantic." Ruth looked at Rose in the mirror in awe of her beautiful daughter and her handiwork at hair dressing as well. She took a comb in her hand and waited for an answer from Rose.

"I think so. It looks nice and neat and Jack is not used to my hair being so perfect." Rose turned her head slightly in the mirror as if deciding just what she wanted. "Here, give me the comb. I'll show you." She took the styling comb from her mother and started to pull a few tendrils down from either side of her temple. "I think maybe just a few here, at the ears and in back. Where is the veil?" Rose started to stand up, not remembering where she had last seen her bridal headpiece. "Mother, did you see it?" The sound of worry was in her voice and she was beset by a nervousness she had never before experienced.

Ruth couldn't contain a chuckle as she heard Rose's panicked voice. Gently she laid a hand on Rose's shoulder. "Don't worry dear. It is right over there. Are you ready to put it on?" When Rose gave a tiny nod, Ruth walked over to the wing chair where she had carefully spread out the veil and coronet of flowers when she had first arrived. "It certainly matches the flowers on the invitation. Jack did a wonderful job on that sketch."

Rose reached out to the table next to her and held the precious invitation in her hand. Jack had been inspired by the gardens here at the inn and had combined his impressions of these flowers with those in Monet's garden in Giverny and sketched a pale pastel drawing that formed the background of the wedding invitation. They had both worked hard on the wording so that it would be meaningful to them and their guests. In a French style font, on top of Jack's delicate flowers were printed the words that invited everyone to their wedding. "Please join us in the first moments of our life together as we are united in marriage on the seventeenth of November two thousand and one, at half after eleven in the morning, in the garden of the Mill Rose Inn, Half Moon Bay, California. Rose Elise Dewitt-Bukater and Jack McKay Dawson."

"It really is elegant, Mother, don't you think?" Rose was referring to the invitation she held in her hand, but Ruth who had been busy placing the crown of tea roses and baby's breath on Rose's hair was thinking of how her daughter looked.

She stood back and sighed deeply. "Yes, dear it really it elegant. Stand up and let me see how it all looks together." Ruth watched as Rose got up from the chair and faced her. There were tears in her eyes as she studied her lovely and radiant twenty-two year old daughter. Rose was a vision of loveliness. Her physical beauty was unchallenged, but the warm inner light and contentment that shone through her eyes could only come from the deep love and respect that she knew that Rose and Jack shared. If two people were ever truly meant for each other, surely these two were.

"Rose, where is your bouquet? I thought the florist was bringing everything at once this morning." Ruth scanned the room, now having her turn to be concerned that something was missing.

"Jack said he was ordering it special. But you're right, it hasn't come yet. I suppose if something happened to it, I could just pick some flowers from the garden." Her heart was racing now and the clock chimed ten forty five. She only cared that Jack was here and her mother had told her she had seen a glimpse of him when she arrived earlier. "Still though it is not like Jack to forget something like that." Her hand went to her throat when she heard a knock at the door. "Oh God, I hope that nothing is wrong. Could you get it Mother?"

Ruth slowly opened the door, hoping that it was either the photographer, the florist or the bridesmaids. Standing in the doorway was the owner of the inn, Carole Standish. In her hands, she was holding the most elegant bridal bouquet she had ever seen. Before Ruth could speak, the innkeeper acknowledged Ruth with a smile and then glanced around the room before her eyes settled on Rose.

"Ah, there you are, Rose. I guess you were expecting this." Carole moved forward into the room, smiling graciously as she handed Rose her bouquet. "I believe this is from your groom. You better hurry up with the ceremony. He is so handsome that everywhere he goes to wait, he has the guests gushing over him. You are lucky."

Rose slid her moist palms down the back of the chair, conscious now of not doing any damage to her dress. With the woman's words about how Jack looked, her throat constricted in anticipation. Oh yes, she knew just how lucky she was. She held a shaky hand in front of her and took the bouquet, drowning in the exotic scent of the blossoms. "Mother, what are all of these, they smell so wonderful." Lifting the bouquet to her face she inhaled deeply to soak in the wonderful fragrance.

Ruth took a few steps closer to Rose and started to examine the flowers more closely. "Pardon me, I am supposed to give you this note too." Carole herself was about to cry as she watched the elegant mother and daughter. She only hoped that one day she would have the privilege of helping her child prepare for a wedding. "I better be going and help direct the guests and guard the groom."

With that lighthearted remark, Rose managed a slight laugh and slipped the note under the flowers. If she could only stop shaking, she might be able to get through the day. Once Jack took a hold of her hand, all of her fears would dissipate. Of that she was sure. "Rose, Jack does have good taste. But then we knew that." Ruth pointed to the various flowers as she named. "These are stephanotis, lilies of the valley, some asparagus fern and look. Even the tiny tea roses to match your headpiece. I think we should do the makeup next. But let me go and check on your bridesmaids and see if they need any help. Then we will round up the photographer. Soon dear, it will all come together." Ruth gave Rose a tiny peck on the cheek and shut the door behind her. She sensed correctly that Rose wanted to read the note from Jack in private.

Rose looked thoughtfully at the door as her mother closed it quietly behind her. She was so thankful that she and her mother now had a wonderful understanding with each other. In the last year and a half, they had grown closer and shared more secrets and had more fun than in all of Rose's growing up years. She smiled to herself, happy about the changes. Then she remembered Jack's letter, held tightly in her hand. Slowly she drew it out and looked at the front of the envelope. It said simply "Rose." With her nervousness she struggled to open the unsealed flap and pull the card out of the envelope. It was a postcard from the museum they had first visited over a year ago. On the front was the painting of Monet's water lilies. As she turned it over to read the message, her breathing became more irregular and her legs felt weak. Reaching out for the chair closest to her, she sank softly into the cushions. Jack never failed to think of everything. Just the little details that made any occasion extraordinary. She only hoped that her little surprises that awaited them in Hawaii would make him feel as special. The words swam before her watering eyes. "Get a grip on yourself, Rose. You'll never make it otherwise." Rose blew out a little breath and clutched the card tightly as she read it.

"Dear Rose, in a few minutes a door to the rest of our lives will open for us. The love in your heart is the key to the door. Come to me, Rose. Let me love you always. Yours, Jack."

Rose sat quietly, imaging Jack as he sat writing the note. She could almost hear his voice as if he was reading it to her. In another few minutes they would be together and their dream would begin. Outside, she could hear the sounds of the last minute wedding preparations. The chairs on the flagstone patio squeaked and shuffled as the guests took their seats. A soft murmur of voices rose up to her window, a sure sign also that people were arriving. She heard the faint twanging of the harp as the musician tuned her instrument. A quick glance at the clock told her that time was passing and that only thirty minutes remained before the ceremony started. "Oh my makeup. I still need to do my makeup." Rose stood as quickly as she could under the constraints of the gown and veil and went to the mirror. Her face was already flushed from her nervousness and her large green eyes were dilated from excitement. She didn't need much she thought as she studied her face, just a touch here and there.

"Rose, Rose, the girls are ready." A rush of perfume scented air and the sound of rustling dresses told her that her mother and the bridesmaids were here, ready to help here with the last minute details. She turned to the door shocked to see the transformation of her two friends from the usual jeans clad, backpack carrying coeds of the last year to elegant attendants. Allison with her long blond hair swept into a French twist, stood a head taller than all of them. The soft lavender color of the gown accentuated her perpetually tanned skin. And the dress itself complimented her tall athletic body. Rebecca was the same height as Rose. Her short dark hair was tucked behind the ears to reveal the pearl drop earrings that were Rose's gift to the girls.

"Oh, Rose, you look beautiful," said Allison. She bent her head to smell the bridal bouquet. "You really lucked out, you know. Rose. The whole campus was drooling when they would see the two of you together."

Rose could only smile, knowing full well, that prior to a year and a half ago, she was also one of the drooling coeds. Now, she had Jack all to herself. To change the subject, Rose pointed to a box on the bed. "Those are your bouquets. They look nice and fresh."

Rebecca picked up the lid of the box and pulled out two nosegay bouquets, each one filled with white roses, and miniature purple orchids, with ivy trailing down the sides. "These are lovely. Thanks, Rose," said Rebecca, who came over and gave Rose a gentle hug. "Don't want to mess up that dress," she laughed.

"All right, time for makeup." Ruth, who had been standing and enjoying the interaction between Rose and her roommates, realized that time was passing too quickly now. They still had to have a few pictures with the photographer as well. "Here," said Ruth. She handed Allison and Rebecca a big white towel. "Hold this up in front of the dress. We don't need any telltale signs of makeup." The girls put down their bouquets and stepped forward to help Rose's mother. In the back of their mind were the arguments and tears that had once highlighted most of the conversations that Rose had once had with her mother. Allison gave Rebecca a wink as they both noticed the welcome and remarkable change in Ruth.

Rose took a big sigh of relief when her mother blended the blush on her cheeks one last time. "Do I look all right?" she asked. Rose looked from her mother to the girls and then to the mirror. She took one good look at herself, not believing that the woman who stared back at her was herself. It was not the physical changes, but the look of maturity and confidence that shocked her. For now she was a twenty-two-year-old woman who was about to become a wife. Jack's wife. For one second, she closed her eyes and concentrated on just what that meant. The thoughts of being near him forever and doing the things they loved together swept through her mind and at last she started to feel some sense of contentment and relaxation. In a few more minutes they would see each other and Rose knew that once she was at Jack's side, she would be safe in their own world of love.

"There." Ruth stood back and smiled with satisfaction. Rose was the most beautiful bride she had ever seen. Her red hair curled in becoming tendrils around her face. Those green eyes were alight with a happiness that Ruth knew came from within. The simple white gown and tulle veil with the wreath of flowers in her hair could have been made for a fairy tale princess. And despite Rose's trembling hands, Ruth knew that this was a marriage that would be for all time. She knew the devotion that Jack and Rose had to each other and how hard they worked to communicate their feelings so there would be as few misunderstandings as possible. Ruth felt at peace knowing that Rose and Jack had vowed to make her a part of their lives. They had told her that is was important to be together for the holidays and family occasions and that if she ever felt lonely, she would be welcome to come and spend some time with them. She thought back to the day she first met Jack. The day she worked so hard to view him in the worst possible light. And all that happened was that she fell under the spell of his kindness and sincerity. She was grateful beyond words how things had worked out for Rose. Ruth glanced at the clock and saw that is was already eleven twenty five. Just time enough for a couple of pictures and then she would take her place for the ceremony.

Allison answered the knock on the door. "It's Linda, the photographer, Rose." Allison showed the young woman into the room and then she and Rebecca picked up their bouquets and took one final look in the mirror. "Don't worry, Rebecca," Allison kidded. "They're not going to be looking at us anyway."

Rose smiled nervously at her bridesmaids, thrilled that her two special friends from school were able to be a part of this day. Ruth was tucking a few strands of her own hair in place. She was so proud of her mother today. Once she had never believed that they could be in the same room without causing each other pain. Jack had helped with that, but Ruth herself had been eager for change.

"Let's have the bridesmaids over here with you Rose, by the mirror." Linda took several shots of the three girls together and then a few of Allison and Rebecca alone. As the clock chimed eleven thirty and downstairs, the harpist began to play Bach's Prelude and Fugue in C. The music Rose had selected for the bridesmaids' procession. Rose, Ruth, Allison and Rebecca all shared the same expectant expression. Without another word, the girls rushed from the room to take their places downstairs. Linda placed Ruth and Rose together in front of the flowered drape, making sure that Rose's train was properly arranged. "Just two pictures and then you're free to go and get married." Rose and Ruth both laughed at Linda's amusing comments.

With their faces toward the camera, Ruth spoke softly to Rose. "I can't say too much, dear, because I don't want us to cry and spoil our makeup." She cast her eyes slightly to the side and saw Rose's brilliant smile. That smile would only grow brighter as soon as she saw Jack, of that she was sure. "I just want you to know that I am so proud of you and thankful. You look so beautiful, Rose. Just like I dreamed you would when you were a baby." Ruth bit her lip and swallowed, feeling the tears coming after all. "That's it, ladies. We better get started down the stairs." Linda lifted Rose's skirt and indicated with her hand that Rose should go before her. "Don't want to make that groom nervous."

"Rose," Ruth said breathlessly. "I just want you to know that I am proud to be your mother." Rose in all her bridal finery floated before her eyes in a blur of tears. Ruth reached up with a hanky to blot them away, not caring after all if her makeup was ruined. Realizing that after all she was the mother of the bride and entitled to shed tears of happiness.

Rose looked around the room once more before they left the suite to make sure that nothing important had been left behind. The next time she returned to this room, it would be with Jack, to change for their honeymoon. Somewhere downstairs he was waiting for her. She allowed herself one quick second to try and calm herself by picturing him under the bower of roses. Then she reached for her mother's hand and squeezed it tightly. In a choked whisper she managed to make her feelings known too. "I'm proud to have you as a mother." Both of them managed a quick smile that bespoke of the love and friendship they would always share.

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Jack took a deep breath, taking in the scent of gardenias and climbing jasmine. His senses were assaulted by the smells of a garden in full bloom and the gentle shuffling sounds of the arriving guests. Splashes of color were everywhere it seemed, from the vibrant California sky to the striking white of the chairs set along the lush lawn. Jack bent his head slightly and closed his eyes, trying desperately to separate his own thoughts from the distractions around him. He felt someone tap him lightly on the back. "Dawson…Jack? Back to earth."

The strong voice of Seth Townsend, who was of course serving as his best man today, caused Jack to circle back into the realm of reality. His eyes shot open, and he could hear his friend chuckling heartily. "Jack, maybe pacing isn't the best thing right now?" Jack looked up sheepishly, noticing very suddenly that his feet were indeed carrying him back and forth across the front of the large white gazebo. But despite his embarrassment, Seth's eyes were kind and reassuring. He shook Jack's shoulder good-naturedly and smiled. "Ah...don't be nervous. You're one lucky guy you know?"

Jack felt his mouth curve into a small smile, and he nodded, sliding his trembling hands into his pockets. "I know, believe me. But weren't you a little...anxious when you married Caroline? Just a little?"

"Of course I was," Seth's brown eyes shone with recollection. "It's natural. But it's my job to try and convince you otherwise...right?" He laughed at Jack's confused expression and glanced at his watch. "Five more minutes, buddy."

Jack swallowed and ran a hand through his hair, making sure the wind has not mussed it during the thirty minutes he had been standing outside. He'd woken up way too early this morning, only to find himself in a state of nervousness he had never before known. Jack considered himself a well-organized, put-together person, but it just wasn't every day that a man got married, was it? Marrying Rose was the most important, most wonderful thing he could imagine. But some strange part of him would not rest until he saw her walking down the aisle...until he was assured of a forever, once and for all. He saw Seth standing up straight and folding his hands in front of him, preparing for the start of the ceremony. Jack hesitated, then looked down to straighten the jacket of his tuxedo, which was really more of a old-fashioned, sophisticated suit with a long, silk-style cravat instead of the usual bow-tie. He adjusted his sleeves and caught a glimpse of the seconds ticking away on his wrist. A quick glance to the side of him revealed the pianist and harpist, opening and arranging their musical scores. The rows of seats were quickly being filled, with the 45 guests he and Rose had invited. The garden was secluded enough, but also able to accommodate the group and leave plentiful room for a wide aisle for Rose and the bridesmaids to walk down. Jack nodded to himself and licked his lips, trying to rid his mouth of the dry, cakey feeling. He had been milling helplessly around the inn all morning, wanting so badly to see Rose for just a second. But of course that was completely out of the question, and if it hadn't been for Seth and his calming company, Jack was sure he would have gone mad by now.

"Mr. Dawson..." Jack turned around to the sound of his name, coming face to face with the friendly pastor that Ruth had arranged to come down from her church in Seattle. He was a gentle-looking man, in his late sixties, with a serious face but cheerful eyes.

"Dr. Richards...I want to thank you again for this. I'm so glad to see you." Jack sighed with relief and shook hands with the gray-haired man. He and Rose had spent about an hour with him the previous afternoon, and Jack could tell what a sincere and caring man he was. Dr. Richards had taken a great interest in them, their story and their past. He was an easy man to talk to. "I'm honored." The man's eyes crinkled into a smile, and he motioned toward the steps of the flower-adorned gazebo. "Is this all right here? I know we talked last night, but I just wanted to make sure." Jack grinned. Something about this man's demeanor and grace reminded him of his own father. "That's fine, yes. I think we're about to start actually." Dr. Richards looked knowingly at the sharp young man in front of him. Spending only a short amount of time with Jack and his beautiful and elegant fiancée, he was sure that this would be a successful marriage. Rarely did he see such genuine hope and charm in a young couple. With a silent nod, Dr. Richards touched Jack's arm and then took his place.

The wind ran soothingly against Jack's face as he surveyed the guests that were now mostly seated. He could see the faces of many of his colleagues from the university, most of whom he knew from the art department or the business office. There was Rick Shaw, who graciously loaned his small yacht to Jack each summer and unknowingly helped the romance along. Seth's wife Caroline was chatting quietly with a couple seated next to her towards the front. They had wisely chosen to leave their son Matthew, who was barely six months old, at home. Several of Rose's friends, some who Jack knew better than others, were scattered here and there, as well as an aunt and uncle who had come from Oregon. Jack smiled as his eyes moved to the very front row. His only relative present at the ceremony, his aunt from Chippewa Falls, sat daintily, decked out in one of her striking signature hats. Helen Atkins was in her seventies, the older sister of Jack's mother. She was an enthusiastic and impressive woman with a cheerful round face. She caught Jack's gaze for a second, waving her handkerchief at him with a sunny smile.

He and Rose had made a visit to his hometown earlier in June, a trip that Jack knew had been long overdue. As he had suspected, Rose had been appreciative of the tiny farm town where he had grown up, and her excitement had been increasingly contagious as Jack rediscovered the place that held so many memories. He had taken Rose to visit Aunt Helen with hesitancy, as he had not exactly kept in touch with her as he should have. For so many years after he left, the shadow of his parents deaths and his tremendous loss had prevented Jack from returning or even contacting the only remaining link to his family's past, his mother's sister. But Helen had been thrilled to find he and Rose on her doorstep early one weekday morning, and she had graciously opened her home to the two of them, bringing out old photo albums and searching the attic for several things that had belonged to his mother. Helen had quickly taken to Rose, and now there were constant phone calls and letters, as well as visits. Just before they had left, Helen had presented Rose with a special and touching gift. It was a white linen hanky, trimmed with lace and tiny seed pearls. All of the women on Jack’s mother’s side of the family had carried it on their wedding day. And Helen said that nothing could mean more to her than for Rose to continue the tradition.

Jack stood tall and felt his heart racing as the harpist lifted her hands to her instrument, beginning the delicate tune that Rose had chosen. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Ruth in a bright yellow suit, walking briskly to take her seat next to Aunt Helen, who readily greeted Rose's mother. That could only mean one thing. That Rose was merely yards away now, behind the white awning where he saw the lavender of her roommates' dresses.

To Jack, the procession of Allison and Rebecca seemed like it was taking hours. They smiled to the guests as they made their way down the aisle and he could see everyone present whispering comments to each other as they admired the girls’ dresses, bouquets and hairstyles. When they finally reached the front and took their places on the opposite of Seth and himself, Jack thought he could take no more. His fingers were numb to the point that he wondered how on earth he would get the ring on Rose’s finger. Jack squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, hoping that this slow, exquisite torture of waiting for his bride to appear would soon be over.

There was a break in the music, when the only sounds were the scraping of chairs and a few soft coughs and whispers. Jack saw the harpist reposition her hands on the strings and softly the bridal march began. At the pastor’s signal, the guests rose to their feet. Everyone now was craning their heads eager to get the first peek at the bride. His eyes focused on the end of the white carpet and at last, the full white skirt of Rose’s gown came into view. Like an ethereal figure from some pleasant dream, she approached slowly. The regal looking gown that she wore enhanced her beautiful figure. With its tiny capped sleeves, fitted waist and rounded neckline, she looked more romantic than any fairy princess he had ever seen in any book. He was enchanted when he saw how the tendrils of her hair peeped out from the cloud of white tulle, secured to her head by a wreath of delicately colored flowers. Her hands were tightly wrapped around the bouquet he had chosen for her. Jack smiled to himself when he saw his mother’s hanky tied securely to the handle. To him the soft swishing sound of her dress, against the white runner, drowned out the harpist’s music. He could see how her chest under the bodice of her dress rose and fell, almost as if she were struggling to breathe normally. His eyes moved upward and he made contact with her. Silently her lips opened and closed. And then she smiled. A brilliant, bright smile of happiness. A smile that was intended only for him. He smiled back at her, in awe of this beautiful woman who was about to become a part of him. For a second, he thought her step faltered. He was certain she was a nervous as he was. Giving her a comforting wink, he saw her draw in a long breath and she looked suddenly relieved.

With only the thought of Rose coming closer, Jack moved without thinking. He took a few steps forward into the aisle and held his hand out to her. She reached out to him with such an expression of joy and happiness, that Jack was now convinced that the world belonged only to him. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw both Ruth and Aunt Helen wiping away their tears. Rose was next to him now, her arm resting comfortably on his. In only a few more minutes they would be pronounced man and wife. In the distance a wind chime tinkled and the fountain splashed. Feelings of peace and contentment that he had never known quickly replaced the nervousness that had plagued him all morning. He leaned into Rose and whispered into her ear. "I love you, Rose." She smiled back at him demurely. Her eyes fluttered gently and she leaned her head lightly against his shoulder. He felt her sigh and then her body relaxed against him. "Jack," she murmured, so only he could here. "I want this moment to last forever."

He gazed down on her, his heart overflowing with love, for once understanding just why he existed. It was to tenderly cherish this woman forever.

Chapter Fourteen
Stories