A Few Drops of Bitters
Page 26
“These are some of Alma’s treasures,” Savannah told him. “I have her blessing to give them to you.”
“Really?” He stared down into the box. “Wow. Tell me about them.”
She picked up the lozenge tin and opened it. “This is her own first-aid kit. She used to try to ‘doctor’ every hurt animal or person she could find,” she told him, showing him the bandages, tape, tiny scissors, and a thermometer. “She never could get the animals to hold still long enough to take their temperatures, but she certainly tried hard enough.”
He laughed. “That’s sweet.”
“It could be annoying at times, depending on what she brought home and whether it was venomous or not, but yes, very sweet.”
She pointed to the plastic necklace. “Santa brought her that when she was just an itty-bitty thing. She loved it. Thought it was the most beautiful jewelry in the world.” A wave of sadness swept through Savannah as she remembered. “I’m glad she loved it so much, because that was before we went to live with Granny, and it’s the only thing Santa brought Alma that year. She was lucky. If I hadn’t shoplifted it from our local five-and-dime store, she wouldn’t have gotten that.”
Ethan picked up the necklace and ran it slowly through his fingers, touching each glittery bead. Then he kissed it, like it was a rosary, and said, his voice trembling, “She told me that things were rough for you guys. She didn’t say how rough.”
“She wouldn’t. Alma’s never been one to complain about anything. But we had some very bad times, Ethan. The little girl Alma was, she suffered, and that wounded child is still inside her. Always will be. You need to know that, or you won’t understand some of the things you’ll see in her, hear from her.”
He nodded and solemnly placed the necklace back in the box.
Savannah pointed to the blue ribbons. “You have an extremely good speller at your beck and call now. Better than a walking dictionary. There is nothing that gal can’t spell.”
“Good to know, ’cause I’m a pretty lousy speller myself.”
Savannah picked up the stack of photos and untied the red ribbon from around them. “This ribbon was a cherished adornment in our household. Marietta and Vidalia drew blood, fighting over who was going to wear it every morning. By the time it got passed down to poor little Alma, well, you can see the condition it was in. But she loved it all the same. It looked so pretty on her with her black curls.”
She slipped a photo into his hands, “This is her with an alley cat she nursed back to health. This one is her with the cast on her hand after the truck accident that almost killed us all.”
She showed him another picture of a rundown, shotgun house, sitting in the middle of nowhere with Granny as a younger woman sitting on its rickety step, her “grandangels” gathered around her. “This is the house we were raised in, once the courts gave us to Granny,” she told him. “Not really much more than a shack, but that’s where Gran lived for most of her life. See why she adores that beautiful new beach home you bought her? Why it’s such a dream come true for her?”
He nodded and whispered, “I’m so glad.”
She chose one more photo from the stack, a picture of a burned heap and a little girl standing next to a fire truck. A firefighter had placed his hat on her and was kneeling beside her, his arm around her shoulders.
“This was taken the night our mom’s rented house burned down. I was with Granny that night, and Shirley had left the little ones alone to go to the tavern. Cordelia set the house on fire, and Alma was the one who made sure they all got out, including the youngest, who was asleep in the bathtub on a pile of dirty clothes. Alma saved her siblings’ lives when she was only eight years old.”
She placed the photos back in the box and closed it. “It’s about time for you go to downstairs and make that remarkable woman your wife, Ethan, but I just wanted you to know where she came from. You’re going to have to embrace who she was, along with who she is and who she will be.”
“I will, Savannah. I promise. I’ll also cherish this box and what it represents for the rest of my life. Thank you.”
A knock sounded on the door. Then Ryan called, “Mr. Malloy, five minutes to curtain.”
Savannah stood and pulled him to his feet.
“Enough walks down Memory Lane,” she said. “You’ve gotta get downstairs so you can make some new ones with your beautiful bride. Beautiful memories! The first of many!”
“I can hardly wait,” he said.
She could tell he meant it.
Chapter 36
Savannah, Tammy, Vanna Rose, and Freddy stood at the back of the ballroom, waiting for the pianist to begin the wedding march. Savannah stole a glance at Ethan and Waycross standing near the marble fireplace with the clergyman in his white robe and scarlet sash. Ethan looked as radiant as Alma had, and Savannah was both happy and relieved that he had accepted her gift so graciously.
He was a good man. He loved Alma. He was kind to her family. What more could one ask for in a brother-in-law?
Savannah stepped aside and allowed Granny to enter first, arm in arm with an extremely happy six-year-old. Brody couldn’t have been more excited or taken his job more seriously if he had been escorting a queen.
What a pair they make, Savannah thought, grateful to have four generations of her family enjoying the blessed occasion together.
She heard the pianist pause, then the old traditional tune began, and her heart started to race. This was it.
Tammy corralled both Freddy and Vanna Rose, making sure that he was holding the ring pillow and she a basket of petals. Gently, she guided them down the aisle toward the fireplace and the waiting groom and groomsmen.
Other than Vanna trying to eat some of the flowers and Freddy tossing the pillow into the air a few times—fortunately with the ring tied on securely with ribbons—all went well.
Savannah was next to walk across the enormous room to the small gathering near the fireplace. The guests were few. Very few. But Ethan and Alma had wanted a quiet, intimate wedding, and that’s what it was.
She stood next to Tammy, turned a bit, and smiled down at Granny, who had taken her seat next to Brody in the front row. Together they were holding the youngsters by their hands to keep them from running away or engaging in an impromptu basket/pillow fight.
A moment later, a new verse of the song began, the music swelled, and they all turned to the staircase, where Alma was floating down, step by graceful step, holding on to Dirk’s arm.
Savannah’s eyes filled with tears and her heart with joy. Looking at the two of them, she knew she had never loved them more. Her sister. Her man taking care of her sister, stepping in to fill the traditional role, and hopefully, a bit of the vacancy in the bride’s heart as well.
As Dirk guided Alma to her groom and placed her hand in his, he glanced over at Savannah and gave her a smile. She blew him a discreet kiss as he slipped into place next to Ethan.
“Dearly beloved,” the minister began, and they listened to the traditional words, the admonishments and encouragements spoken for as long as couples have chosen to join their lives together in the sight of the Almighty and those they love.
The usual pledges followed, and all went as expected.
Until it was Ethan’s time to speak his vows, and he decided to go “off script.”
“I, Ethan Malloy,” he said, “take you, Alma Joy Reid to be my lawfully wedded wife. I promise to love you, to honor you, and protect you. I will cherish the precious child you were in your past, the beautiful woman you are at this present moment, and lovely person you will be as we spend our years together, till death do us part. So help me God.”
Savannah reached up, touched her cheek, then looked at her fingertips.
Waterproof mascara? No. Not even close, she thought. But in a few minutes, I get to dance with my husband, maybe even my son. And Alma looks like she’s going to be dancing on Cloud Nine for the rest of her days with her Prince Charming, so . . . all is well.
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nbsp; Yes. Very well, indeed.