"Do you remember the disease, Mama, that Ms. Clara has?"
"It’s somethin' called Shellac disease I think she said," Annie responded.
"Celiac disease maybe?"
"Yeah, that's it! That's the word!" Annie exclaimed. "Now she eats this really bland diet with bread that tastes like toilet paper and food with no flavor. The good news is she has lost a lot of weight. The bad news is that she has loose skin hanging all over her like an old elephant trying to find his way to the graveyard for a peaceful death."
"I'm sorry to hear that about Clara," Kalinda said. "Mama, you are the best cook I know. Maybe you can read up and find some good recipes for your friend."
"Maybe," she said. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be talking about that on your wedding day."
The line became quiet.
"Mary Jane," Annie whispered. "Tonight you will find out what type of man he really is. If he gives you time to adjust to becoming his wife before he takes you to his bed, then he is a good man. If he wants to jump you tonight without any consideration of this major life change, then he may not be the man you think he is."
"Or maybe he is just unable to resist all this loveliness, Mama," she said.
"If he is the man you think he is, the loveliness will come to him when she is ready to consummate the marriage. Don't let him bully you, Mary Jane," Annie said.
"I won't," she said to her mother. "I love you, Mama. I have to go and get my act together before my nuptials," she said.
"Don't forget, I sent you something special for your wedding," Annie said.
"Thank you, Mama," Kalinda said softly. She hung up the phone. I’m getting married this morning. She dressed slowly, admiring herself in the mirror. My wedding day. A day when my father should be here to walk me down the aisle. She shrugged it off. Life was what it was. She wouldn’t fabricate a story as to why her father wasn’t here. He just wasn’t.
At 8:35, a light tap came at the door.
It was almost time.
Kalinda opened the door to find a thin, very well-toned woman standing on the other side. The forehead was Botoxed to the point she could not emote on her face the surprise of seeing Kalinda. However, there wasn't a damned thing wrong with her mouth that emoted just fine.
"Dear Jesus, you are black!" Beverly Darton said.
The doe brown eyes were a feature she had given to her son Paul as well as the full lips. However, Beverly's were a bit fuller with the aid of collagen. Lots of collagen. One more shot and the woman would look like she’d had an allergic reaction to nuts.
"I'm sorry Paul didn't mention that detail to you. Is my race going to be a problem?" Kalinda wanted to know.
"I don't care truthfully. The two of you are going to be hibernating up in the woods like two bears scrubbing their asses against a tree, so it doesn’t matter to me," Beverly said.
His mother’s reaction seemed out of sorts. She asked Mrs. Darton, "Out of curiosity, why did you seem so surprised?"
"Your daddy and sister are downstairs, and they are very white," Beverly said.
“What?" Kalinda asked.
"Yeah, they just arrived a few minutes ago," Beverly told her. "The minister is also here. I came up to see if you needed any help, since your Mother couldn't be here, but seems like you have everything under control."
Being strong is tiresome . Her mother often said it, but Kalinda never understood that until this very moment. "I don't have it under control, Mrs. Darton, and right now, more than any time in my life, I could use a hug. A really good motherly hug and someone to tell me that everything is going to be alright."
“May I?" Beverly asked, pointing into the room.
"Please come in," Kalinda said.
The moment the door closed, Beverly Darton opened her arms to Kalinda. The embrace was warm, loving, and tender as she squeezed her daughter-in-law-to-be. In Kalinda’s ear she whispered, "Everything is going to be alright, Sweetheart. Today is your wedding day to a wonderful, loving man, who is going to give you a great life."
She stepped back looking at Kalinda’s face.
"Now, let's get you ready to marry my son," Beverly said with what was supposed to be a smile if her lips worked properly.
Kalinda pulled back as well to look up to look at Paul’s mother. She was taller than Kalinda. Questions zoomed in and out of her head as she searched for the perfect words to ask the right question. It came to her.
"What do you want me to know about how to take care of your son?"
Beverly's forehead made an attempt to move. The result was an eyebrow that tried to raise, but gave up.
"Paul is a gentle hearted, loving man. You love him, he loves you. You take care of him, he takes care of you. Of my two sons, he is the one I worry most about. Nothing is hidden with Paul. If he likes something, he will let you know. If he doesn't like anything, he will let you know that as well."
"How can I be a good wife to him?"
"Be yourself. Believe in what you are about to build and I will work this end to help you. There will be opposition from both ends of your journey. The people of Imnaha who don't want the traffic in their town and the people on this end who want that land. Fight the good fight with him and you will have a great life together," she said. "Now, let's get you married."
Beverly checked Kalinda’s hair and makeup and held the train of Kalinda's gown as she headed downstairs. The small conference room on the right side of the registration desk had been converted to a chapel to provide a space for Paul and Kalinda to become man and wife. Katrina waited outside of the door with a small bouquet of blue flowers.
"Here," Katrina said to her as she placed a pink bracelet on her left hand. "I want it back after the ceremony. You are only borrowing it."
A little gray-haired woman, with doe-like brown eyes walked over to Kalinda and handed her a handkerchief. She handed it to Kalinda with a look of confusion on her face.
"Thank you – this looks really old and precious. I will cherish it," Kalinda said to the matronly woman.
"You're black!" the old lady said. "Nobody told me Paulie was marrying a black girl!"
"Well he is, Mama Darton," Beverly said. "There is nothing you can do about it."
"He couldn't find any white ones who wanted to move into the woods and shit in a hole on the side of that damned canyon?" the old lady asked, frowning at Kalinda.
"Hold your tongue. Amara will not ruin this day for your grandson, you old bag of hot dust. Go in there and sit your old crotchety ass down and be quiet," Beverly said to her mother-in-law as she opened the conference room door and nearly shoved the old lady inside. "Jesus hold my hand and build a fence! If my hands are busy in your Glory I can't go to Hell for killing that old woman!"
Kalinda found herself unwillingly laughing.
The door opened again and Hurley Lancaster stepped out. Wearing a black suit and a sky-blue bow tie and sporting the whitest hair that made him look like a skinny version of Colonel Sanders. "Hey there, Pumpkin," Hurley said to her.
The surprise on her face could not be contained. Even though she half heard Beverly say that he was here, to actually see her father was a different reality. He'd flown all the way across country to be at her wedding.
"Mr. Lancaster?" she said softly. “You are here!”
"I wasn't going to let my baby girl get married without me being here to give you away. I also needed to spend some time getting to know the man who would take my place in your heart," Hurley said as he embraced his daughter. “I like that Paul. He is a good guy.”
“And you know all about being a good guy?” She asked sarcastically.
Hurley, nodded his head to Paul’s mother, pulling his daughter to the side. “One day, you and I are going to have a long overdue conversation young lady. Stop being snarky and let’s get this done,” Hurley said.
“Thank you so much for taking time out of your busy life, but let’s be honest, you make furniture. Paul’s family is into lumber. You are here to score a deal,” she
said pulling away from him.
“No. I am here to give you away in marriage, just as I did for Connie,” he said with a fake grin on his face to the small group gathering around them. He pulled her veil over her face, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “Now, would be a good time to tell one of those good stories you love to make up.”
“Of course, Mr. Lancaster. We know your image is everything,” she said with an upturned lip.
Loudly, he spoke up. “Pumpkin, I don’t know if I am ready to give my baby girl away in marriage,” he said for the benefit of onlookers.
"No man can ever replace you," Kalinda said, wrapping her arms around him. Right now, he was the only family she had, which created a Catch-22, actually making her glad that he was here.
"That's great to know, sweetie. Are you ready?" he asked.
"As ready as I will ever be," she said., looking up at him.
She placed her arm in his, and the wedding march began to play. Hurley's shoulders were back and square as he walked her down the aisle. The small room of well-wishers whispered as she walked past. Some of the comments could be heard as people in the room watched the very, pale white man walk the black lady down to aisle to marry Paul Darton.
Kalinda arrived at the makeshift altar to have her hand placed into Paul's by Hurley, who kissed her cheek and took a seat. Beverly and Connie stood at their side as her matron and maid of honor and she took her vows to become Paul's wife. Her mother, hated flying, but a reaction to her last IV infusion sometimes took days for it to take hold. It then took two more weeks before all the goodness of the treatment kicked in. By the time she would be ready to travel a month would have passed. Besides, it gave Kalinda time to get everything show ready before Annie’s arrival. In her head, it all worked out beautifully.
Two men, who were easily recognizable as Paul's father and brother, patted his back after he said his vows and they witnessed him slipping the ring on Kalinda's finger.
"I now pronounce you man and wife," the pastor said. "You may kiss the bride.”
The kiss, both tender and brief, elicited oohs and ahhs from the small group of twenty odd people who had come to witness the joining of Paul and Kalinda. An ultra-friendly, overly flamboyant photographer stood waiting for the couple to be presented to the crowd.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Paul Darton," the pastor said.
"Over here, you sexy monkeys," the photographer called out. His finger rested on the button as the sound of what could have been hundreds of pictures clicked away.
Kalinda, Hurley, Paul, and Connie all snapped their heads around looking at the very gay man as if he had lost his damned mind. Kalinda, uncertain if he was calling her a monkey or implying they would be having wild monkey sex, made her give him a face full of attitude.
"Good, good, give me attitude, give me smiles, give it to me," the photographer called.
“I'm going to give my foot into your ass, George, if you don't get out of the damned way," Jeremiah said to the photographer. He looked at Kalinda. "He's my cousin's boy and a bit touched in the head if you ask me. Always flitting about with a camera in his hand, thinking he is Ansel Adams or some damned body. Just get the shots, George."
Paul's attention was pulled away by his grandmother, who was still unclear why he was marrying a black girl. She asked the questions really loudly. She asked again if he could have found a white girl to shit in a hole on the side of a canyon. Mama Darton also wanted to know why he wanted to shit in a hole anyway versus using a toilet. Everyone ignored her but Paul, who took the time to sit his grandmother down to explain to her in detail. Kalinda was focused instead on George. It was obvious that his family dismissed him but she witnessed him capturing candid moments that would go in her photo album.
"How good are you at taking pictures, George?"
"I have won a few contests," he told her, the pink tuft of hair on his head moving from side to side as he spoke.
"I have a job for you once I get up to Imnaha and get settled," she said. "Do you have a business card?"
"I do," he said, clapping his hands together, then stopping to hand her the card.
"Great! I look forward to receiving these pictures, and we will go from there," she said. "I hope to build a great relationship with you."
"I do video, too," he said. "I even can do special effects editing."
Kalinda's smile was genuine. "George, you and I are going to be great friends."
"What about me, Mary Jane, will we be great friends?" Connie asked her, moving through the small group of attendees. She’d come along with her father to witness the wedding for herself. George walked away to snap photos of the crowd, understanding that something between the two women needed airing out.
"Connie, we are more than friends. We are sisters," Kalinda told her.
"I don't get it. I really don't. You always seem to land on your feet. No matter how much bad shit happens to you, somehow you always manage to end up victorious," Connie said. "I came out with Daddy to make sure he made it here and back, but also to see for myself what you were up to now. I don't believe any of this..."
"Explain to me what you don't get, Connie?"
"You. Him. Oregon. How, Mary Jane, how do you always get what you want?"
"The secret is I never settle, Connie. Have the courage to be different and go for what you know will make you happy. You always accept that the Lancaster name is enough to get you what you want, when in truth, you have never known what you wanted. Now, you are married to some ne’er-do-well salesman. You have a mid-sized Mercedes sedan, a decent house in Bainbridge and you are president of the Junior League. Congrats. You are now your mother," Kalinda said to her.
"My mother is an awesome lady. She raised me to be a good person and just so you know, I've never liked you, Mary Jane," Connie said. "I have always admired you, though, for aspiring to be better. I hope you will be happy."
"Coming from you, that means almost nothing to me, but I will take it," Kalinda said to her half-sister. "Our home will be open to you and your husband should you wish to come for a visit or to hike one of the trails. Oh, and just so you know and don’t ever get it confused, my mother raised you to be a good person."
Words were not present in the conversation of eyes that went back and forth between the two sisters after Kalinda’s statement. Hostility resonated in both their eyes as they stood silently, allowing a well-hidden truth to come alive between them. For the first time in their lives, Connie now truly understood Kalinda’s pain. Connie’s mother was a socialite who spent more time arranging fundraisers for political officials than she did caring for her household. Annie Marshall was more than the maid at the Lancaster house. She was family. Annie was Connie’s mother as well, not by birth, but by love. Connie loved Annie as much as Kalinda did. Today was the first time her step sister even came close to acknowledging any of it. Even though the words were not spoken, the conversation between their eyes was enough for Kalinda. The unspoken conversation was interrupted by well-wishers and friends of Paul who shook Kalinda’s hand, asked a million questions, and showered her with affection. It was the start of a new life.
A new life with Paul Darton.
Chapter 7
N o matter where Kalinda was in the room, Paul could sense her presence. Several times during conversations with friends or family, his train of thought was lost if she passed by him, laughed loudly, or smiled at someone. The reception, albeit brief, as planned by his mother, was a sit down champagne brunch served by the hand selected catering staff chosen by Beverly Darton. She also kept a close eye on her new daughter in law who seemed the have the attention of everyone in the room, especially her new husband.
Paul barely touched his food. His eyes constantly trailed back to his wife. My wife. That sexy woman agreed and married me. I only have to last one more night before we can consummate our union. I said I would give us a few days, allowing her to get accustomed to having me as her man...her husband...her lover.
"Dear Lord, Paul, do you have to be so obvious?" Luke asked him. "You look as if you want to saunter over there and lick her until she cries."
"Only you would be so crass," Paul said. "She is stunning, though."
"She is," Luke said, admiring Kalinda's backside. "Where did you find her...Greenpeace, PETA...The Unshaven Cat Ladies of America?"
"Nope, found her on hotbabe2go.com ," Paul said facetiously.
"Does your hot babe know she is going to live in a shack with an outdoor tub and a hole to in shit on the ground?"
"She knows that she is going to live in a three-room cabin with a stand-up shower, indoor plumbing and me as her sexy ass husband," Paul said, watching Kalinda out of the side of his eye. As if she heard her name, she turned to smile at him. He grinned back.
"This should be interesting," Luke said to his younger brother. "Does she also know that you are allergic to anything that has a taste to it?"
"My wife," he said turning to face his brother, "is aware of my gluten sensitivity and me having Celiac Disease."
"Okay then, what's wrong with her?"
Paul had reached the point of irritation his brother was so apt to bring him to with the right words of provocation. "So, a beautiful woman agrees to marry me and work beside me to build a future for the next generation, and that makes her flawed or broken?"
"I'm just wondering. She is a solid nine and a half little brother and a prime, sensual black woman. What is she running from to come way out here ...to live way out there with a man who is, well, way out there?"
For as long as Paul could remember, it was always that way between him and Luke. The sarcastic biting comments aimed at his self-confidence were Luke’s favorite weapon of choice. Years of snarky sideways barbs meant to make him feel small and insignificant had a reached a culminating point of near hatred for his own brother. Paul lowered his head, mentally willing Kalinda to hear his call. He needed her to walk over and stand at his side. He needed her to provide a silent strength to quiet all the lookee-loos who came out to see who he had married, to poke fun at him and his life choices. Enough. He'd had enough.
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