The Wedding Tree

by Robin Wells

  His gaze poured into mine. “So . . . what do you think?”

  I think that my heart has never felt so full. I think I’m more blessed than anyone ever had any reason to be. I think that God is generous and kind beyond all comprehension. I think that it’s going to be so much fun to tell you that I already quit my job and plan to move back. I think that I can’t wait to see Zoey’s next lost tooth and hear Sophie’s next breathless tale.

  Matt looked kind of blurry through my damp eyes, but I’m sure I was grinning like a loon. “You love me?” I asked, my voice kind of raw and raspy.

  “With all my heart.”

  “Oh, Matt—I love you, too! That’s why I couldn’t stand to spend any more time with you!”

  The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. “Do you realize how insane that sounds?”

  “Only as I heard myself say it. It didn’t sound that messed up in my head.”

  We both laughed. He reached out and stroked my cheek, and I think he would have kissed me, but I couldn’t stop talking. “I have so much to tell you . . . like how I already quit my job and I’m moving back to Louisiana, but now, thank God, I don’t have to move to Covington or Madisonville in order to avoid you.”

  He pulled back. “Wait—you’re already planning to move back? But you were planning to avoid me?”

  “Yes, because I love you so, and . . . and now I’m rambling. I always ramble when I’m excited.”

  “I’ve noticed.” His eyes sparkled like sunshine on the lake. “Want me to help you stop?”

  I nodded, then wrapped my arms around him as he gathered me close and kissed me. My heart felt like it would jump out of my chest, but my thoughts settled in to one single, solitary thought:

  Home. I was finally, really home.

  59

  adelaide

  THE FOLLOWING APRIL

  The airplane’s microphone crackled to life. “Ladies and gentlemen, we should be on the ground in approximately fifteen minutes. It’s raining in New Orleans, so we’re going to hit some bumpy weather on our descent. Flight attendants, please take your seats.”

  “We’re almost there, Mom,” Eddie said. “Time to fasten your seat belt.”

  Oh, fiddle. I hated restraints of any kind—almost as much as I hated being treated like a child. Truth was, I knew my short-term memory was faulty and my hearing was bad and I couldn’t always remember the names of things, but I was still me, inside, and I hated being told what to do. I’d mostly recovered from my fall—I no longer had rib pain, my headaches were less frequent, and most of the time I didn’t see double—but there was no recovery from old age. Time marches on.

  I bit my tongue and let Eddie click the metal contraption around my lap. No point in telling him that I wasn’t going to die today in a plane crash or a bumpy landing; Mother had hinted I was going to get to hold a great-grandbaby or two before I left this earth. What mattered, I’d learned, wasn’t being right or having all the answers, but loving and being loved. Both Eddie and I felt that way when I let him watch out for me.

  “I sure hope this rain stops before Saturday,” Ralph worried.

  We were returning to Louisiana for Hope and Matt’s wedding. They were holding it in the nature preserve, under the Wedding Tree—which struck me as the loveliest, most ideal location imaginable.

  Ralph and Eddie, who’d been acting as unofficial long-distance wedding planners and fretting like mothers of the bride, were worried that it might be cold or rain, but I’d convinced Hope it wouldn’t. I hadn’t exactly said that Mother promised it would be a beautiful day—truth was, Mother had quit talking to me as soon as I’d moved to California nine months ago—but I’d told Hope that she shouldn’t worry, that the weather would be perfect. I’d spoken as if I had some special knowledge.

  And I did. I knew that a little rain wouldn’t ruin the wedding; they could simply hold the ceremony under the tent that would be set up nearby for the reception if they needed to. I also knew that it was the things that didn’t go as planned that you talked about and laughed about years later. I knew that whatever happened would be absolutely wonderful.

  And I had another bit of special knowledge that I’d imparted to Hope: don’t let fear dictate your decisions. When things don’t go as you think they should, it’s because God has something better for you down the road.

  Take Charlie’s accident, for example. I’ve never told anyone this because it just doesn’t sound right, but those were some of the most contented years of my life. Charlie and I got along just fine as companions—we were easy and comfortable with each other, able to make each other laugh, and we loved each other’s families. We might not have had the right chemistry as lovers, but when all that man-woman stuff was removed from the equation, well, we were as contented as most long-married couples I’ve known. Truth is, Charlie was basically a homebody at heart, and I was a people person, better suited for a career. When we more or less switched roles, married life got a whole heck of a lot easier.

  When Charlie had opened his bruised eyes in the hospital after that awful attempt to take his own life, I finally saw his bruised soul. I realized then that he was broken, and he’d been broken for a long time. Part of that was my fault, I know, but mostly, it was his parents’. They’d never allowed him to think beyond the narrow script they’d written for his life, and he’d always viewed any deviation as a miserable failure. More than anything, Charlie didn’t want to let them down.

  I’d leaned close to his ear. “I promise I’ll never leave you,” I whispered, “but don’t you dare ever try to leave me like that again. From this moment forward, we’ll put everything behind us and never speak about the past again.”

  He’d smiled a faint smile and given a nod that must have pained him something terrible.

  And we never did. We never discussed Joe or the baby or the suitcase he’d buried. Truth is, I was always afraid that bringing it up would make him try to take his life again. We lived life one day at a time. We raised our children. We cared for, then buried, our grandmothers and our parents.

  Through it all, I helped Charlie with basic living tasks and acted as if there was nothing unusual about it. Truth be told, it gave me a sense of purpose I’d never had.

  The only real bone of contention between us was Charlie’s way with the children. Becky and Eddie both felt that Charlie was awfully critical of them. I tried to make up for his gruffness with tenderness and unconditional acceptance. Charlie was definitely stuck in his ways, unwilling and unable to see the way the world was shifting, stubbornly insistent that women should be soft and pretty and men should be tough and unemotional. Funny how both Becky and Eddie ended up standing those roles on their ear.

  Our plane dove under the clouds, and all of a sudden, I could see the giant curve of the Mississippi River that gives New Orleans its nickname “the Crescent City.” I remembered the first time I’d seen that from the air, nearly seventy years ago.

  Parts of that river were hundreds of feet deep. Sunken boats and people and trees and God-only-knew-what all lay at the bottom. Jagged, horrible, ghastly things—all covered with water.

  Love was like that, I thought. Soft enough to dive headfirst into, yet mighty enough to move the earth. Essential to all life, and in some ways, alive itself. Love and water were both always moving—pouring, pooling, changing form, flooding, flowing, wearing down the hardest substances on earth with time and sheer persistence. Both were there even when you thought they weren’t—flowing in underground aquifers, moving through pipes, wafting in molecules of air, pumping through hearts. What was that word from the Bible? Omnipresent. Yes, both love and water were like that.

  And love, like water, was a great leveler. No matter how jagged and ragged and deep the valleys and scars, love, like water, covered it all, making it beautiful and even and shiny.

  Love was like water in another way, too. When it spil
ls into your life, it always splashes into unexpected areas. I grinned as I remembered water tumbling from a vase of tulips onto a certain officer’s jacket.

  Eddie took my hand. “Why are you thinking about, Mom?”

  We were lower now, approaching the runway. I could see puddles of water on the ground, reflecting like mirrors.

  “How love is like water,” I said.

  “Very romantic sentiment,” Ralph said, “but I still hope it doesn’t rain on Hope’s wedding day.”

  “Actually, I kind of hope it does,” I said.

  Both Eddie and Ralph gaped at me. “Why on earth would you hope a thing like that?” Eddie asked.

  “Because,” I said with an air of mystery—an air I could only now carry off, and only because everyone thought I might be half senile, “life’s not about being perfect. It’s about getting wet.”

  I closed my eyes as the engine grew louder and the wheels bumped the runway, and remembered the way I’d feared another plane, seventy years ago, had been about to run into the lake—how I’d worried that I’d gone flying only to end up drowning.

  As it turns out, I actually had.

  · readers guide ·

  the

  WEDDING TREE

  by robin wells

  DISCUSSION QUESTIONS

  The Wedding Tree addresses several different themes. Here are some questions to consider as you discuss the book:

  FAMILY VALUES / SOCIETAL MORES

  1. We’re all shaped by family beliefs and the “rules” of society. The culturally acceptable behavior of women in particular was very limited in the 1940s and ’50s. How did Adelaide, Charlie, Joe, Hope, and Hope’s mother, Rebecca, react to their family’s expectations and the societal rules of the day?

  2. What were the different expectations that Hope’s mother and grandmother had of her?

  3. What messages did you receive from your family? Have you accepted them or rejected them?

  LOSS AND LETTING GO

  4. All of the characters lost or had to let go of something—objects, people, habits, emotions, plans, secrets, etc. Name some of the things Adelaide, Charlie, Joe, Hope, and Matt gave up (voluntarily or involuntarily) and how it affected them. Was the loss ultimately a good thing or bad thing?

  5. What are some of the things you’ve let go of in life? Is there anything you need to release in order to move forward?

  GROWTH AND CHANGE

  6. How did Adelaide, Charlie, Hope, Matt, and Jillian grow and change over the course of the book?

  7. Do you believe people can genuinely change? Why or why not?

  AVOIDANCE, PROCRASTINATION, AND FEAR

  8. People often try to avoid confronting truths or situations that are potentially painful. What things did Adelaide want to avoid facing? What was Hope trying to avoid? Have you ever avoided a painful situation? What finally made you decide to address it?

  FORGIVENESS AND ACCEPTANCE

  9. Each character needed to forgive someone and/or accept an unchangeable situation. Who or what did Adelaide need to forgive or accept?

  10. Who benefits most from forgiveness? Is there a person or situation in your life that you need to make peace with?

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