“Wake up, sleepyhead.”
She rolled up and squinted up at Nathan, who stood in the doorway with a grin on his face.
“What time is it?” she asked with a yawn.
“5:45. You called me at 2:00.”
“No way.” She rolled over to look at the clock.
“Is it okay to come in?”
Jessica nodded and Nathan stepped into the room. “Your mom called me about an hour ago to ask if I wanted to go out to dinner with you guys,” he said. “So I’m here.”
“I can’t believe I slept all afternoon.” She yawned again and sat up. As she did, her letter from Dallas fell to the floor.
“What’s this?” Nathan reached down to pick it up. “Your rejection letter?
“No, I uh…”
“Your mom told me it came today.” He gripped it tightly. “She figured that’s why you needed the sleep, to recover from the bad news.”
“Uh, no.” She snatched it from his hand. “It’s, uh -”
A worried look crossed Nathan’s face.
“It’s just a letter from -”
“That guy from Dallas?” Nathan asked.
“Yeah. But he’s not actually back in Dallas yet. He’s going to be in Houston for another couple of weeks.”
“I see.”
“There’s nothing to see, Nathan.”
“He just won’t take no for an answer, will he?”
Jess shrugged. “Actually, I’ve been thinking -”
“There’s nothing to think about.” Nathan reached to take her hand. “He can’t have you.”
“But -”
“You’re a Houston girl, and you’re all mine.”
She nodded, and let her head fall onto his shoulder. As he stroked her hair, he continued to speak. “And speaking of being all mine. . .”
She looked up into his eyes, which twinkled merrily. “What?”
“I have some good news. But let’s go out into the living room so I can tell everyone at once.”
Jess quickly touched up her lipstick then met them in the living room. There, Nathan gathered the whole family around him to make his announcement.
“I have some news.” He paused momentarily, then proudly announced, “My parents have decided to spring for a European honeymoon.”
“Europe?” Jess immediately began to weep. She had always longed for a trip to Italy. For years, she had talked of it with such longing. Venice would be the destination of choice. And Florence, of course. There were so many places to visit, so many historical and musical sites to take in.
But why would Nathan’s parents go to such trouble? They must have been listening to her childish babblings all along. Suddenly she felt completely overwhelmed at their generosity. “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard,” she whispered.
“I thought you’d like it.” He smiled. “My mom has a friend who’s a travel agent and they set the whole thing up today. We’ll fly into Frankfurt.”
“Germany?” That’s curious.
“Yes, I’ve always wanted to take a boat trip down the Rhine. Then we’ll go on to Paris and London from there.”
“Paris and London?” That all sounded great, but how did Italy fit into the plan?
“A fabulous ten days of sightseeing and exotic foods for my new bride. British tea rooms, double-decker buses. The best.”
Laura and Andrew immediately began to chatter about French foods and Jessica’s brother, Kent, overlapped them with a conversation about German automobiles. Nathan tried to keep her attention by telling her about their flight, their hotels and their detailed schedule, but Jess felt lost in the muddle of it all.
Somehow, Italy had slipped right through her fingers and she felt the loss more acutely than a rejection letter from Rigoletto, himself.
four
Jessica spent the following Saturday afternoon making a to-do list for her wedding. She tried to push all thoughts of Dallas as far away as possible. With so much planning ahead, she shouldn’t have much difficulty pressing misguided images of Madame Butterfly out of her mind.
“Photographer. Invitations.” She mumbled aloud as she wrote. “Flowers, candelabras, roman columns.” She paused a moment before erasing the last entry. Nathan would never agree to roman columns, in spite of her best explanations and pleas. “Buffet, vegetable trays, quiche.”
Jessica continued to write, scribbling down only the things she knew the two of them, together, would come to agreement on. After some time, she laid down the lists and reached for a bridal magazine. She thumbed through it in bored silence, as she carefully examined each dress. To be honest, they all looked the same to her. White with long train. White with short train. Beaded with short sleeves. Beaded strapless. Did it matter, anyway? They were all dreadful. Would she ever find one that appealed to her?
Jessica’s eyes grew heavy and she turned the pages. In her mind’s eye, she could see her gown. It would be so different from anything in these magazines. So vastly different. She rested back against the sofa and tried to stay alert, but it grew more difficult. For some reason, every time she tried to focus on wedding plans, she grew weary with the process almost immediately.
Jessica allowed herself to contemplate something else for a moment. Just a minute or two of dreaming wouldn’t hurt. In her mind’s eye, she saw herself on a stage, singing her heart out. She wore an exquisite flowing dress in shades of cream and burgundy. To her left, a beautiful set filled the stage - an antiquated Italian city with houses, fountains and cobbled streets. From inside the window of one of the houses, a man sang to her in a rich baritone voice, which resonated across the theater.
She responded to his words in Italian. Her soprano voice paralleled his as they joined together in harmony to complete the song. He disappeared momentarily, only to reappear in the doorway of the house. The tall stranger with dark hair moved toward her, never taking his eyes off of hers. He swept her into his arms and sang lovingly to her as he danced her across the stage. She found herself captivated by the moment and completely lost in his gaze. They seemed to mirror each other perfectly.
As if anything could be that perfect.
“I’ve got to stop this.” Jessica tried to shake off the image. She tossed the bridal magazine onto the coffee table and stood with a yawn. Enough with the dreamy school girl imaginations. Life was staring her in the face and she had work to do. Lots of work.
And yet she didn’t feel like working on the wedding. She wanted to think about – dream about – singing. Why, Lord? I thought my life was settled. I really thought I could have it all – the husband, the family and the music. Was I wrong, Father? Show me what to do.
The telephone rang, startling her. Jessica felt her hands begin to tremble as she reached to pick it up. Don’t read too much into this. “Hello?”
“Jess? Is that you?”
Her heart lifted as she heard Nathan’s voice. “Yep. What’s up?”
“Just wondering what you’re up to.”
“Oh. I… I was just sitting here making plans for the wedding.”
“Good girl.” He paused. “Listen, my parents were wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner. My mom’s fixing lasagna and Caesar salad. I know they’re your favorites.”
Jessica’s mouth watered. “Mmm.”
“And I think she’s nearly finished with her guest list for the wedding, and she’ll want to talk to you about that. She wants to feel wanted, if you know what I mean.”
“I do.”
“Also, my dad’s been on the Internet again,” Nathan said. “He’s printed up some pictures of the hotels we’ll be staying at on our honeymoon. He’s anxious to show them to you.”
“What time should I be there?”
“Six-thirty?”
She glanced at her watch. “Sounds good. Gives me just enough time to take a quick shower and change into clean clothes. I’ll see you then.”
“Great. Love you, Babe.”
“Love you, too.” She hung up
the phone with a click, and picked up the bridal magazine for one last glance. Lord, is this your answer to my question? Though she still didn’t feel completely settled on the issue, the phone call seemed entirely too coincidental.
As Jessica climbed into the shower, she finally felt some sense of resolution on the matter. She loved Nathan. He loved her. She had a lot of work to do right here in Houston. Everyone needed her. There would be plenty of time to think about her career later. Timing was everything, after all. Her favorite scripture from Ecclesiastes reminded her of the fact. There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven.
This simply wasn’t the time for leaving.
By the time she finished dressing for dinner, Jessica knew what she must do. She reached for Mr. Phillip’s letter one last time, scanning it only briefly to find his cell number. Once located, she picked up the phone and dialed it. She would give him her answer.
Her final answer.
***
Colin sat on the balcony of the downtown Houston hotel, drinking in an unexpected evening breeze. From inside the room, his cell phone rang, rousing him from a near-catatonic state. He sprinted inside. Just as he approached the phone, Colin stubbed his toe on the sharp edge of the dresser. He began to hop up and down, then grappled to pry the flip phone open before he lost the call altogether. “Hello?”
“Mr. Phillips?”
The female voice sounded oddly familiar. Colin placed his aching foot back on the ground and winced in pain. “This is he.”
“Oh, hello. This is Jessica. Jessica Chapman. We met last week.”
His spirits lifted immediately and his foot suddenly felt better. “Jessica, it’s so good to hear from you. You got my letter, then.” He had taken a chance by sending it, to be honest. In fact, he had prayed the carefully crafted note wouldn’t seem to forward, too pushy. But he knew in his spirit this girl was the one he had been praying for.
For the Internship, of course.
“Yes. Well, that’s why I’m calling.” She hesitated. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“No. As a matter of fact, I’m still here in Houston. I’ve been in meetings all week, but I’m back at the hotel now.”
“Ah. Well I’m glad I picked the right time to call,” she said.
“With good news, I hope.” He drew in a deep breath and waited for her response.
“Actually -”
Colin’s heart suddenly felt heavy. He dropped down onto the sofa to await her reply, rubbing at his aching foot as she spoke.
“I’ve really given this a lot of thought,” she said. “And I’ve prayed about it too. But. . .”
He switched the phone to the other ear. “You’ve decided against it?”
“I’m afraid so.”
She sounded as if she would cry and Colin suddenly realized the struggle she must be facing. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said.
“There’s just so much going on right now,” she continued, “and leaving in the middle of everything would present too many challenges.”
Colin struggled with his disappointment, but quickly opted to do the right thing, for her sake. “Jessica, thank you so much for calling,” he said. “And thanks for considering the internship. I knew from the get-go that your answer would probably be a ‘no,’ but I was so taken with your voice and your love for children that I couldn’t help but pursue it. To be honest, I was only thinking of what you could do for us, how you could benefit our organization, not the other way around. That was selfish of me, and I’m really sorry if I’ve been too pushy.”
“Oh, no,” she said. And then her voice broke. “I. . .I’m so flattered you would think of me. It means so much to hear your kind words and I know the Dallas Metropolitan Opera could have opened great doors for me. Just the opportunity to perform with such amazing professionals in the field. . .”
“Yes, well.”
“To be honest, I’d love nothing more than to come,” she said with a sigh. “In my heart, I’m there already.”
“You don’t have to say anything else,” Colin interrupted. “Just please know this, in case you ever doubt it. You have a unique voice, a God-given talent. And there will be plenty of opportunities for you in the music world. Promise me you won’t ever give up on that gift, okay?”
“Okay.” She practically whispered the word.
“And if your situation changes in the next few weeks. . .” No, he wouldn’t say it. He didn’t want to be guilty of manipulating her in any way. Besides, the Lord had the perfect person in mind for the job and Colin didn’t want to interrupt the Almighty’s plans.
Even if it meant losing the one person he had felt so strongly about from the very beginning.
five
“What do you think of this one, Grandma?” Jessica turned in a prissy circle to display the white Cinderella style wedding dress she wore. The romantic gown with its long, full skirt and a fitted bodice accentuated her waistline, but something about it still didn’t feel quite right.
“Hmm.” Her grandmother, never one to mince words, crossed her arms and gave Jessica a penetrating look. “Turn around one more time so I can give it a fair analysis.”
Jessica swished the elaborate gown as she pivoted once again.
“I don’t know, Honey.” The silver-haired woman shrugged. “Something about this one just doesn’t seem to suit you. I don’t want to burst your bubble. If you like it, that’s all that really matters.”
“I like it.” Jess looked in the mirror once again. “But I don’t love it; you know what I mean? I want my wedding gown to be perfect. This is close, but. . .”
“Not quite the right fit?”
“Nope.” She shook her head and gave a defeated sigh. “None of them seem to suit me, and, to be honest, I just don’t know how many more of these I can try on. I’m so frustrated. The last one made me look like a ballerina. That tulle skirt was just too much. Felt like a tutu. And the one before that—”
Her grandmother laughed. “I know, I know. Made you feel like a prom queen.”
“That shiny fabric made me a little nervous.” She swished in front of the tri-fold mirrors once again then leaned against the wall in defeat. “What’s wrong with me, Grandma? Why can’t I find anything that’s just right for me? Am I really that difficult?” She slumped down into a nearby chair.
“You’re just looking for the perfect fit, and that’s not easy to find.”
“I suppose,” she said. “But nothing’s going to be perfect, right? I mean, truly perfect.” She sought out her grandmother’s expression for an answer.
“You can force something to fit, but that doesn’t make it right. Living with something that’s uncomfortable or ‘not quite right’ is never a good thing.”
Jessica tried to swallow the lump in her throat before responding. “What are you saying?”
Her grandmother’s eyes watered a bit. “I’m just saying if you could have anything you wanted, absolutely anything, what would it be?”
“Are we talking dresses here, or something else?”
“You tell me.” The older woman suddenly took on a determined, maternal look. “Tell me about your dream wedding, Jessica.”
“My dream wedding?”
“Yes, if you could have anything you wanted, what would you have?” The silver-haired beauty eased her way into a chair.
Jessica pursed her lips as she thought of her answer. “Well, the wedding of my dreams, the one I’ve always hoped for, would be very romantic but also a little theatrical, which I know Nathan would absolutely hate. There would be a stringed quartet playing in the background and candles all over the place. I know a church wedding would be nice – traditional - but I really see a more surreal setting, more like a, a. . .” She knew what she wanted to say, but didn’t dare.
“A theater?” Her grandmother finished the sentence for her.
Jessica shrugged. “Yes, or something like that. Anyway, the music would be the foundation for the
whole event, and all of the love songs would definitely be sung in Italian. There would be a backdrop, like a set, with painted scenes from Italy. Maybe some Roman columns, to add a little romance, with swags of sheer fabric draped between them and some twinkling lights reflecting through.”
“Sounds beautiful.”
“And,” Jessica continued, more excited now, “if I had my way, I wouldn’t even wear a traditional wedding dress at all. I’d pick something with a long, flowing skirt. Chiffon, maybe. Lots of flow. Loose, romantic sleeves. Something very dramatic.”
“More like a costume from one of your operas?”
“Yes, to be honest.” Jessica felt a sense of relief as the words were spoken. “And not necessarily white,” she continued, “which I know would probably upset everyone. But I just see this as a non-traditional sort of wedding—a staged event.”
“Right, right.”
“I’d like to see a little color, even in my gown. Muted, of course. If we’re going with a Mediterranean theme.”
“Are you going with a Mediterranean theme?”
“Well, I’ve tried to tell Nathan my ideas, but he’s got a more traditional approach in mind. Not that he’s being stubborn. He’s not.” Jessica drew in a deep breath. “He’s almost too nice about it all, but I can see it in his eyes. He’s very ‘in the box,’ which is fine. That’s just who he is and I appreciate that about him. He’s solid, stable.”
“Romantic?”
“Well, I can’t expect everything from one person,” Jessica said slowly. “But I’m fine with that. I really am.”
“Hmph.”
Besides,” Jessica now felt herself trying to turn the conversation in another direction, “I don’t want to hurt him by insisting on having my own way. That would be wrong. And I’m more than willing to compromise.”
Texas Weddings (Books One and Two) Page 18