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.
****************************************
"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.