Past Forward- A Serial Novel: Episode 11

by Chautona Havig

  DID YOU CALL SOLARI?

  With her CD player on the coffee table, Willow sat on the edge of the couch and plucked her strings, trying to copy the notes from the song playing. Several times, she skipped back a bit as she worked to perfect it. The song wasn’t familiar, but most on the CD Chad had brought were too fast for her to follow. She’d listened to it daily for weeks now, trying to memorize the tune. The finger chart helped, but listening, following the notes—by the time she finished with those, the song sounded right.

  “…is blowin’ in the wind…the answer is blowin’ in the wind.”

  She jumped at Chad’s voice behind her and the touch of his hands on her shoulders. “When did you get here? I didn’t hear your truck.”

  “Left it by the mailbox. There’s a huge pile of snow blocking the driveway. Had to walk.” He came around the couch and sat next to her, plucking a string. “You’re getting good at that. I knew exactly what you were playing and where you were.”

  “You know this song?”

  “My dad likes it—Bob Dylan.”

  “Means nothing to me, but it’s pretty.” Willow plucked the strings again, “Sing it.”

  Chad stumbled through the words, forgetting a few. She stumbled a few times as the meaning slowly worked its way into her heart. As she played the last note, Willow glanced up at him. “Someone doesn’t like war.”

  “Popular during Vietnam.”

  Nodding, she ran her fingers over the smooth surface of the dulcimer. “I love this thing. I wish Mother—”

  “Don’t wish. Maybe there were reasons she didn’t know how to share. Just be thankful that you could bless her without it then and enjoy it now—guilt free.”

  Willow’s fingers toyed with the strings, the notes slowly merging into the simple melody of “Abide with Me.” She tried to add the notes that would give it harmony, but it sounded horrible. Chad leaned back against the couch, his forearm covering his eyes. Listening.

  “I can’t figure out how harmony works. I can do it when I hear it, but—”

  “But you can pick out basic melodies. That’s pretty good for two months of playing, don’t you think?”

  “I guess.”

  He sat up. “We need to get you a DVD series that teaches how to play. I should have known you wouldn’t just want to fiddle with it. You want to master it.”

  “Well of course. I’ve got this beautiful instrument, why wouldn’t—” Willow sank back against the cushions, her arms around the dulcimer. “This is another one of those things that I won’t understand, isn’t it?”

  “Probably. Some people just like to tinker.”

  She handed him the instrument and stood. “I’m going to get some cake, want some?”

  “Mmm hmm. I should have brought ice cream and a brownie mix. This is a good night brownie a lá mode.”

  In the kitchen, she pulled out plates and paused. Brownies and ice cream. She could do that. Her mind still on the song she wanted to master, Willow began mixing ingredients for brownies. In the pantry, a bag of semi-sweet chocolate chips tempted her. Marianne had once mentioned adding them to brownies.

  As she poured the batter into her baking dish, Chad’s voice drifted from the doorway. “You didn’t have to make brownies. Cake is fine.”

  Her eyes met his from across the room as she scraped the bowl. “No, I didn’t have to, but there isn’t any reason not to. We can make ice cream while it bakes.” She dug out the ice cream freezer and passed him the rock salt. “Can you go get ice from the cellar?”

  While Chad cranked the freezer, Willow doodled in the wedding journal. “It’s too bad we’re waiting for May…”

  “For the wedding?”

  “Mmm hmm…”

  The cranking stopped as he moved to her side. He sat on his heels with his arm draped over the back of her chair. “Why is that?”

  “We could serve snow ice cream. It’d be so delicious and festive.”

  His low chuckle did uncomfortable and strange things to her heart. “And I was crazy enough to think you were wanting to move up the date.”

  “I am—snow cream, remember?”

  He shook his head. “Not that kind of eager.”

  Willow turned, her eyes growing wide at his close proximity. He reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “It escaped.”

  “I thought you liked my hair all messy.”

  His hand reached for the end of her braid, pulling off the hair tie and unweaving the sections. “This is messy.”

  “Chad!”

  A smile spread across his face. “Wanna know the most attractive thing about you? Well—” he added as an afterthought, “right now anyway…”

  A doodle grew on the paper as she concentrated on everything but his face. Chad toyed with her hair while she bit her lip, trying not to panic. “I—”

  “You can’t stand it, can you? You want to know, and yet you can’t bring yourself to ask.”

  How he could read her mind—she sighed. “Ok, what?”

  “What what?”

  “Chad!”

  “Déjà vous.”

  She frowned. “I—oh. Well, you keep acting all…”

  “It’s called flirty. And you like it.”

  “Well…”

  “Admit it.” He slid his hand behind her neck and kneaded the muscles.

  “Ok, fine. I admit it.”

  “What?”

  “Aaak!” Willow turned, forcing herself to meet his eyes. “Ok, I admit. I like your flirting—mostly.”

  “Aaaannnd?”

  “And I want to know what you think is attractive about me—today.”

  “That you’re clueless just how attractive you are. Today, that’s the biggie.”

  She pointed to the ice cream freezer. “Get cranking or it won’t be done in time.”

  As he settled himself back in the rocking chair, freezer between his knees, Chad cranked. Willow felt his eyes boring into her back. She knew it was coming and winced as she heard him say, “Mostly?”

  Chapter Eighty-One

  “Wow.”

  “You said that on Valentine’s Day, and when I had on my ratty old jeans and flannel—”

  “Well, I’m saying it again.” Chad teased. “Wow.”

  “Can we go now?” Willow demanded, reaching for her ruana.

  Chad caught her hands. Wrapping arms around her he whispered, “I’m surprised Cheri didn’t stick you in a pair of three inch heels.”

  “She tried. I took about two steps and kicked them off.” Willow disentangled herself from Chad giving him an irritated yet amused look and settled her ruana over her shoulders.

  With his back leaning against the banister, Chad openly appraised her. “I think it’s a good thing,” he agreed finally. “After all, a guy can only take so much.” Before she could respond, Chad linked his arm in hers and opened the front door.

  Willow’s mind was kaleidoscope of sights, sounds, and memories. From the moment she entered Aggie’s yard, she absorbed the decorations, the clothes, the music, and the ceremony surrounding Aggie’s wedding. Some of the formality didn’t make sense to her, but it was beautiful nonetheless.

  The minister’s sermonette on the roles of husbands and wives and the admonition for the family and friends present to support them and hold Luke and Aggie to their vows touched Willow deeply. As she listened, she imagined how those words would play out in her life with Chad and who would help them keep the vows they made. She would have to be sure she could keep the vows before she stood there ready to make them.

  “… kiss your bride.”

  Chad watched. Instead of focusing on his cousin and the bride, his eyes traveled to the back of the room where Willow sat slack-jawed at the couple standing before her. Something flickered in her expression, causing him to glance at Luke. Aggie’s deer-in-the-headlight’s look turned to an impish grin as she reached for her bouquet from her maid of honor’s hand…and then grabbed Tina’s bouquet as well. Holding both to shield
them from the guests, Luke and Aggie’s first kiss managed to be slightly private if a bit more intense and longer than absolutely necessary.

  “I’d like—” the minister interrupted with partially repressed chuckles. “To introduce Luke and Aggie Sullivan so they can have a moment alone…”

  “Hey!” Aggie quipped laughing. “I waited a long time for my first kiss!”

  Chad and a few of the other attendants laughed as they heard Luke murmur, “Well you won’t wait long for your second… or third.”

  Children milled everywhere, and though Aggie tried, her mother hat kept slipping off and hiding under her bridal veil. Libby worked to keep the childish revelry down to a minimum, but with the constant interference by everyone insisting, “they need to celebrate too,” the youngest Stuart children led a wild side of the party—occasionally contained by whatever adults happened to be nearby.

  After eating, the cake, toasts—Aggie stood and the younger women congregated in the center of the room. “Go, Willow. Catch the bouquet.”

  “Why?”

  Chad nudged her forward. “The one who catches it marries next.”

  “I thought that was just in a book.”

  His laughter rang out, causing several near them to smile knowingly. “Willow, it was in that book because it’s what people do.”

  Cheri grabbed Willow on her way to the group by the door. “Come on. If I get it, I’ll pass it to you.”

  Willow thought the entire thing was ridiculous, but she tried to get in the spirit of things. As Aggie’s bouquet of roses flew into the air, Willow glanced back and saw Chad’s hopeful face. She turned, determined to catch it, and found it falling into her arms as though aimed there. A glance at Aggie confirmed her suspicions.

  A cheer went up from the women around her. Willow sought Chad’s eyes and smiled as he nodded his approval. Cheri squealed and hugged her. “I can’t stand it. This is great! I’m so excited!”

  Luke stood and made his way to the microphone, tapping it to gather everyone’s attention. “Well, we all know I’m not much of a talker. I’m sure you’re all wondering how I managed to get this many words out without a thirty to three hundred and thirty second pause.” A ripple of knowing laughter washed over the room. “Well, for the record, I rehearsed this all week so you’ll be disappointed if you expect any pauses while I try to choose my words. I have an announcement to make.” His eyes swept the room as he shook his head. “I didn’t rehears choking up though. Ok, so this announcement—it’s extra special to me because of why I get to make it instead of someone else. Back in January, my mother went to Rockland for us to pick up something for me and as she passed a bridal shop—”

  Chad and Willow’s eyes widened. “Do you think…” she whispered feeling terrible that her selfishness had given away their secret prematurely.

  “—and in that shop, trying on wedding dresses, was a young woman that Mom recognized. With her was my Aunt Marianne, so when mom got home, she called Aunt Marianne about this little event. Apparently, my cousin Chad has been engaged since New Year’s, but he wanted to give Aggie and me ‘our day.’ It sounds like just Chad.”

  The room erupted in spontaneous applause and congratulations but Luke called for quiet. “Aggie and I are leaving. This is probably the only time in the next thirty years that we’ll have any time to ourselves, so we plan to disappear and enjoy the quiet for the next two weeks so this reception is over.”

  People began standing as if to follow Luke and Aggie out the door, but Luke stopped them again. Chad glanced at Willow and shrugged. “I didn’t know—” he protested as she glared at him.

  “Wait, wait,” Luke continued. “No one invited you to leave. Our reception is over but welcome—” Luke paused as Cheri and Marianne rushed into the room with a huge banner that read “Congratulations Chad and Willow.” “—to Chad and Willow’s engagement party!”

  A curtain opened at the back of the reception hall and the band struck up a popular country tune. Cheri and Marianne called for everyone to push their tables from the center of the room to the edges and corners and the bandleader called for dancers. “Come on, happy couple. Lead the dance.”

  Reminiscent of one special night that seemed like years past, Chad held empty arms out to Willow. “Will you dance with me?”

  “I forgot about Ditto!”

  “Mom didn’t. She called Lily Allen, and Caleb took care of it.”

  Chad’s truck bounced along Willow’s driveway and skidded to a stop in his usual place. He hurried to open her door and let her in the house expecting a cold woodstove, but Caleb had packed it well and embers still burned. “At least it’s warm in here,” she sighed as she pulled her ruana from her shoulders. “I should have worn a warmer coat.” She rolled her eyes at her reflection in the mirror. “Vanity thy name is Willow.”

  “You looked great and didn’t want to ruin it. We weren’t outside. Don’t be silly.”

  They sat on opposite ends of the couch reliving the day as Willow peppered Chad with questions about what she had seen and why things were done as they were. “So the girls. What is the purpose of the girls?”

  “Bridesmaids?”

  “Right—like in books,” she agreed impatiently. “I mean they’re pretty standing there and all of that, but what is the purpose?”

  “I think it’s about having help for all the wedding preparations and stuff. I think the best man and maid of honor are supposed to be there for the witnesses on the marriage certificate.”

  Willow kicked her shoes off and curled her feet beneath her. “Well, I was about to say I wasn’t going to have any, but I’ll have one if I have to. Cheri. She can sign. I’m not doing the rest.”

  “I’ll have Chris.”

  “So what was the point of all those little girls dropping flowers everywhere? I mean, it was pretty, and outside it might have been neat if they had dropped enough to make kind of a carpet to walk on.”

  “Well,” he explained feeling entirely out of his element. “I think that’s the point of it. It’s a symbolic carpet.”

  “But why all the walking and everything?”

  “It’s just what you do—”

  “No!” Willow argued. In a quieter voice, she tried again. “I’m not going to do this, Chad. I need a reason to do something. I can’t just have a bunch of things that don’t mean anything to me. What kind of wedding memory is that?”

  Chad nodded, trying to understand and be sympathetic. “Can you do things that don’t mean anything to you if they mean something to me?” His voice broke. “I don’t want to put you in an awkward position, but if we just do away with everything that means something to my family, you’re putting me in a very awkward one.”

  “So petal girls?”

  “Flower girls. One at least, yes, and a ring bearer. My mother would be heartbroken not to have pictures of two adorable children involved in our wedding.”

  “I have to walk up or down—” she swallowed hard. “Like Aggie—by myself?”

  “No. I’ll walk you up the aisle, Willow. I won’t make you walk it alone.”

  Tears of frustration splashed against her cheeks before she wiped them away impatiently. “I just don’t understand why we need the aisle in the first place!”

  Chad, in what was becoming a very familiar move, pulled Willow to him and sat with his arm draped across her shoulder, and her hand in his. “Describe your dream wedding day.” She glanced up at him, prompted him to add, “One that involves a celebration of some kind.”

  “Very funny. Ok, well,” Willow pulled her feet up onto the couch and laid her head on Chad’s chest as she described a day that he never would have imagined. “I think people would arrive around ten o’clock in the morning. We’d have games for the children—you know, gunny sack races, eggs on spoons, a May-pole maybe—things to keep them occupied.”

  Willow spoke of people dancing, talking, and Wes Hartfield snapping pictures of everything. “It sounds like a wonderful reception, Willow
. I don’t understand what the problem is. The children’s things alone are a great idea.”

  “We’d have a quiet lunch outside, eat cake… I loved that big cake today—so pretty and it tasted wonderful—and then we’d all walk up to Mother’s grave; the preacher would give us our vows, we’d thank everyone for coming, and then they’d go home.”

  A hush fell between them as Chad pondered Willow’s words. Torn between the appeal that a simple celebration such as she’d described afforded, and knowing that they had more people than themselves to consider, he prayed. His hand toyed with her hair as Willow shifted slightly to be more comfortable.

  “I think your day sounds wonderful, Willow. It’s unusual, and it’s not really unreasonable but—”

  “But you want traditional,” she interjected dejectedly.

  “No. I want us to have what we want, and I just want you to be happy, but we’re not the only ones invested in this wedding. I say we do what we want as long as we don’t hurt family in the process.”

  “Agreed.”

  He twirled the ring on her finger as they sat and listened to the wood crackling in the stove. Willow sighed. “I can’t believe you brought that with us.”

  “I wanted you to wear it home.”

  “You couldn’t wait half an hour?”

  “No. I couldn’t,” he teased as he squeezed her hand. “A guy has a right to want his ring on his girl’s hand. Sue me.”

  The way Chad said “his girl’s hand” sent a wave of something unfamiliar over her. The gentle possessiveness in his tone peeled away another thin layer of loneliness from her. She truly wasn’t alone anymore. While it may have been true for some time, she now felt a hint of the old familiar feeling of belonging that had disappeared last May.