Bicycle Built for Two
Page 33
She turned in his arms and pressed her breasts against his chest. “I couldn’t, either.”
Chapter Twenty
Alex took quite a bit of ribbing from Gilbert MacIntosh, his best friend, when he asked Gil to serve as his best man in an emergency wedding ceremony to be held at Alex’s farm is five days’ time. He didn’t mind. He was besotted and didn’t care who knew it.
Kate, who didn’t invite many people to the wedding, was able to persuade Belle Monroe, the woman who’d rescued her from her father’s attempted strangulation, to visit the farm and serve as her maid of honor. Since Belle worked for a couple called the Richmonds, they came, too. Fortunately for everyone, the Richmonds came complete with a little boy and a little girl, one of whom served as a ring-bearer, and the other as a flower girl.
Win Asher, the official photographer for the World’s Columbian Exposition and a friend of Belle’s, agreed to take pictures of the ceremony. Kate got the feeling Mr. Asher came more for Belle’s sake than hers, but she didn’t care.
Mrs. Finney’s health was so poor that she had to recline during the ceremony, but Kate saw to it that she wore a beautiful new gown, and Alex saw to it that she was propped up on a chaise and had a clear view of everything.
Kate’s brothers looked uncomfortable in their new suits, bought at Wanamaker’s ready-made men’s wear department, but Kate thought they were stunning. She came from a handsome family, in spite of her father’s deplorable set of weaknesses.
She wished she could stop resenting her father. She knew her resentment was childish and did her no credit, especially now that he was dead and couldn’t cause any more trouble for anyone. But she couldn’t help it. He’d been awful, and even though she almost understood that he might not have been awful always, she couldn’t help but be glad he was dead and unable to interfere with her family any longer.
Mrs. English was about the dearest woman Kate had ever met, barring her own mother, and Mary Jo was so excited about having the wedding in her own house that she nearly drove everyone to distraction. Kate was becoming accustomed to Mary Jo’s adolescent transports. She no longer felt like slapping the child every time she behaved like a silly young girl, mainly because she was a silly young girl.
Mary Jo, unlike Kate herself, hadn’t been forced to accept responsibilities greater than her years warranted long before she was ready to do so. Kate honored the strong family bonds that had allowed such a state of affairs to exist. She aimed to create one along with Alex, as a matter of fact.
Madame Esmeralda came to the wedding. She arrayed herself in all of her Rumanian Gypsy finery, and finally got around to telling Mary Jo her fortune at the reception. Three of the Egyptian musicians and Miss Fahreda Mahzar attended, too. Along with Madame, the Middle Eastern contingent were the hit of the show, according to Alex, who claimed he’d not anticipated his wedding to be such an extravaganza.
Kate smacked him on the arm and told him not to be sarcastic.
Peering down at her with such a loving look it almost made Kate dizzy, he said, “Believe me, my darling Kate, before I met you, I hadn’t anticipated anything but boredom and decay from marriage.”
Her eyes popped open wide. “Boredom? Decay? What the heck did you think marriage was, anyhow?”
Alex thought about it, then shrugged. “A bore. The beginning of a decline into old age and decrepitude.”
Kate stared. “Good Lord.”
He grinned. “See how much you’ve taught me? Not only am I being spared becoming a stuffy old man, but I’m even welcoming Gypsies and Egyptians into my home.”
“Not to mention three Irish kids from the Chicago slums.”
“Ah, Kate.” He grabbed her up and swung her around. “I’m hoping we can do something about that. I’ve talked to my attorney about creating a lung center at Saint Mildred’s in your mother’s name.”
Kate buried her face in his shoulder and offered up a prayer of thanks for sending Alex English into Madame’s booth that day in May.
# # #
Hazel Finney died two weeks to the day after her daughter was united in holy matrimony with Alex Finney. She faded away one night as Kate sat beside her bed, embroidering pillow slips by the candlelight.
Her last days on earth had been happy, and Kate blessed her new husband for that, even though she knew she’d always miss her mother. Fortunately, Mrs. English, who was brokenhearted at her new friend’s demise, was there for her and made a good substitute.
Alex had spent the two weeks following his wedding making plans. A month after Kate and he said “I do,” he swept his bride off on a world tour. Kate was especially fond of the pyramids, about which she’d been told by her musician friends, although her advanced state of pregnancy made descending into one problematic. Alex told her not to fret.
“We’ll have decades and decades together, Kate. I’ll take you to Egypt again when the kids go off to college.”
Kate thought that was a spectacular plan.