How awkward! “Neither,” Edith finally said, “Just a distant friend.”
The usher was taken aback for a moment, then held out his arm and walked her into the church. As he guided her down the aisle, she noticed that the only room left was at the very back of the sanctuary. The usher led her to a space on the bride’s side, the woman who was to take Jenny’s place. She shuffled past the people already seated and took the space.
What seemed an eternity later, a heavy-set lady walked down to the altar and began to sing a love song, her full, beautiful voice rising above the congregation without accompaniment. It brought tears to Edith’s eyes.
Love is what it is all about, and true love is so rare. Jenny had it and I took it away from her.
At precisely eleven the church bells pealed, announcing the commencement of the ceremony. The door to the sacristy opened and out came a priest followed by Henry and his two best men.
Edith recognized him immediately. What a handsome young man he turned out to be. Edith loved his dark hair and thick eyebrows. He had filled out, and his features were strong and mature. Oh, if Jenny could only see him.
The priest led the men to the front of the altar. They all turned and looked down the long aisle, anticipating the arrival of the bride.
Right on cue, as the organ piped out Wagner’s “Bridal Chorus,” the two doors at the back of the church opened. A young girl, perhaps eight or nine years of age, dressed in white and wearing a tiny veil, led the procession. The child carried a bowl of flower petals and began tossing pink and white blossoms as she walked along.
Edith didn’t want to look but she had to. She just had to see who was replacing her daughter. Oh, God, I can’t bear to look… Edith turned and gazed upon the bride. She was beautiful and, yes, she did have that inner glow, that inner sparkle. Jenny had had it once, too, but Edith had taken it away.
“Oh, Jenny,” Edith whispered under her breath, “I tried, but it’s just too late.”
Edith could no longer look—at Henry as he beamed, at his lovely wife-to-be. Happiness was written all over them, but there was one thing wrong with the picture: it should be Jenny walking down that aisle.
Edith hung her head, trying to block out the words of the ceremony that seemed to scream at her, echoing throughout the church. Absorbed in her thoughts, Edith chastised herself over and over until the priest said something that gave her hope.
“If there is anyone among you who knows of any reason why these two young people should not be wed, speak now or forever hold your peace.”
And here was her chance, her final opportunity. She had to speak up. Fear swept through her. She knew she would look like a fool, but she also knew she had to do it. Her guilt was so strong this was the only way to be free of it. It had killed Ted and now it was killing her and Jenny. Edith knew she had to be bold; she had to be strong.
She felt Ted’s presence beside her, urging her on.
Deliver the letters. They were sent by God’s messengers, His angels, but you wouldn’t listen until it was almost too late. This is your last chance to redeem yourself—and me. Do it, Edith. Stop the wedding. Do it now.
The priest drew breath to continue the ceremony.
Do it before it’s too late, Ted almost screamed in her mind.
“Father! Father, I know of a reason why these two should not be married!” Edith’s voice was so dry it was barely audible. She said it again. This time people several pews in front of her turned to look around. And then more and more members of the congregation turned to look at her as Edith, gaining confidence, shouted more loudly still.
The priest still did not hear her but he did look up to see what the commotion was all about.
“Stop the wedding,” Edith shouted again. “Henry should be marrying my daughter!”
The ushers at the back of the church began to come down the aisle towards Edith. They weren’t sure what to make of this. Was she for real? Did she really have a valid objection to the marriage or was she just some nutcase?
Unbelievably, the priest still hadn’t heard her, didn’t even see her, though several parishioners shuffled around and stood up to see who was yelling.
Edith continued to shout, Ted urging her on.
In desperation, Edith took off her shoes and stood up on the seat of the pew. She knew she looked foolish, but so what? She didn’t mind being a fool for her daughter. Jenny’s happiness was more important than any brief embarrassment. And who were these people anyway? Strangers, all of them. They didn’t know her from Adam. By tomorrow she would be long gone.
Edith stood tall over the congregation and shouted again.
“Stop the wedding! Look this way!”
When she realized she still didn’t have the priest’s attention, she became nearly hysterical. She leaned forward and, shoe in hand, began beating the back of the wooden pew in front of her.
“Stop the wedding! Stop the wedding! This is all wrong!”
A hand gripped her wrist, but she fought against it.
“Stop the wedding!”
“Mom? Mom!” Jenny’s voice broke through as she tried to restrain her mother from hitting the headboard with the heel of her slipper.
“Mom! Mom, what’s wrong? Wake up, Mom—you’re having a nightmare.”
Jenny shook her mother, trying to snap her out of it.
Edith looked at her, completely confused and disoriented, then collapsed onto the bed, arms beside her. The slipper fell to the floor. Her nightgown was drenched in sweat.
“Oh, Jenny! Jenny, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me,” Edith sobbed, bursting into tears.
“Oh, Mom, don’t worry. It’s okay. You didn’t wake me. I was just going down the hall to the bathroom when I heard this awful pounding and you screaming, ‘Stop the wedding!’ ”
“Jenny,” Edith drew in a shuddering breath, “I’m not sorry that I woke you. I’m sorry about something else.”
“What, Mom? What are you sorry about? And what on earth were you dreaming about? Whose wedding do you want to stop?”
But Edith was fully awake now. For a brief second, she’d let her guard down, leaving her temporarily vulnerable to the truth. But as her senses returned so too did her rationalizations and defenses.
“Oh, Jenny, I love you so. I want very much for you to be happy.”
Jenny patted her shoulder consolingly, wondering what this was all about. “But I am happy, Mom. Don’t be silly.”
Edith was spent; she felt so helpless. Henry was getting married and there was nothing more she could do. She stared at her daughter standing at her bedside, tears blurring her eyes.
Oh, Jenny. If you only knew that today, this very morning, your first love, your one and only true love, will wed another. And I am responsible for it all. It should have been you, my darling girl, marrying Henry, but I had to meddle. I thought I knew best. Your father understood, he saw it all at the beginning. Oh, why didn’t I see it then? Why was I so stubborn, so blind?
Edith turned onto her side.
She could no longer look at her daughter, frightened that Jenny would see in her eyes what she had done. Edith wanted only to sleep and never, ever wake up again.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
the earth spun on its axis and the anxious sun could hardly wait to reveal the glorious day in store for Henry and Julean’s wedding. The purple haze of the horizon kaleidoscoped to a rosy red, then pink and finally orange. Profiles of trees and buildings sharpened in the increasing light like the lens of a camera coming into focus. Then the dazzling sun peeked over the edge of the earth, chasing away the darkness in earnest. Shadows scampered in all directions with no place to hide. Brighter and brighter shone the light; sunrise in all its glory. The prairie landscape came alive as tips of standing wheat in the fields glowed golden. Lights came on in homesteads, dotting the land and adding to the sparkling l
ight.
The joyous rays of the rising sun slipped silently into Henry’s bedroom and grew stronger before he stirred under the growing warmth on his face. He was reluctant to awaken, but his dream could no longer hold him.
“What a strange dream,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes then sitting on the edge of the bed. “Why would I be searching in my parents’ bedroom closet for Jenny?”
Henry shook his head and stretched, shedding thoughts of Jenny as he did. The clock on his night table read six-thirty. He jumped to his feet and went over to the window.
The sky was clear and blue, not a cloud in sight. He looked at the trees in the backyard; they were still. That was a good sign, too. Julean really wanted a nice day with no wind—something about her veil blowing off. So far, everything looked good.
“This is my wedding day,” he said to himself, exhilaration surging through him. His spirits soared as he left his room.
“ ’Morning, Mom,” Henry said as he walked into the kitchen. “Don’t you look good.”
Large cylindrical curlers covered his mother’s head. “Culverts,” his dad called them. She swatted at Henry with the dishtowel at his teasing.
“Darlene’s coming over in an hour to do my hair and then you’ll see quite a transformation,” she countered.
“Mom, you look great just as you are. You’re still the most beautiful woman in the world.”
“Awww,” she said, pulling him down into a hug and kissing his cheek. “Well, you’d better sit down and have breakfast if you want me to make it for you. I’ve got lots to do.”
“Oh, it’s okay, Mom. I can make it myself.”
“But I want to make it for you! This will be the last time we have breakfast together.”
“Don’t make it sound so final! You never know, I just might come back every morning.”
“I’m sure Julean will have a thing or two to say about that!”
They laughed.
“Well, if I had my choice, Mom, I’d like bacon and eggs and two slices of toast.”
“Your order will be up in a minute,” she replied, like a professional short-order cook.
“Make that two orders,” said his dad, entering the kitchen. “And maybe I’ll have a slice of that apple pie you baked last night. The smell of it lulled me right to sleep.”
Mary smiled. “I’m glad it worked for you.”
“Yeah, I slept real good. How about you, son?”
“I was a little restless. I dreamt I was looking for someone or something in your bedroom closet—”
Two eggs splattered across the floor.
Startled, Henry and his dad turned and looked at Mary.
“Why so nervous, Mom? You’re not the one getting married!”
The thought of Henry discovering Jenny’s letter today of all days sent a cold shiver down Mary’s spine. The curlers on her scalp seemed to tighten. Unable to think of what to say to the two men staring at her, she forced a chuckle. But the uneasy tone, coloured by the redness on her face, betrayed her guilt.
The sound of the doorbell saved her.
“Who on earth would that be, so early in the morning?” Mary asked, thankful for the distraction.
“Oh, I bet that’s the photographer,” Henry said, jumping up.
“Oh no!” Mary wailed, “I look so terrible.”
“No you don’t, Mom,” Henry called over his shoulder as he ran to the front door and opened it.
Flash!
For several seconds Henry saw only a bright light and then small spots. The photographer had propped the screen door open and moved back down the steps, ready to take Henry’s picture as soon as the groom opened the door.
His mom and dad entered the hallway behind Henry and the photographer took their picture as well. His mom’s hand flew up to her hair to try to hide the curlers.
“Oh, Mom,” Henry said, “you look great, just relax. It’ll be fun to catch what everyone’s doing before the wedding.”
Henry introduced the photographer to his parents then led the man to his room so he could take pictures of Henry’s dress clothes laid out on the bed, and several before and after shots of Henry as he got ready. He spent about three-quarters of an hour with Henry and caught more candids of Henry’s parents and of Aunt Darlene doing his mom’s hair. The photographer then rushed over to Julean’s place to do the same.
Henry tried to imagine the kinds of pictures the photographer would take over there. Probably something similar. Julean had said she wanted a photo revealing the garter on her leg. The thought aroused Henry and he wished he were the photographer to take that shot.
He emerged from his bedroom to hear his mom ask his dad to get her hat box down from the top shelf in the bedroom closet.
“Dad’s in the bathroom, Mom. I’ll get it for you.”
She looked at him, her face paling. “Oh, that’s fine. Your dad can do it when he gets out.”
“Well, I’m here right now; I’ll get it for you.” Henry squeezed past his mom. Their big bed took up so much room it was difficult to get by her.
Mary held her breath as Henry stood on tiptoes and reached for the large Simpsons-Sears box. As his right hand brushed the treasure chest, inches away from Jenny’s tender words of love, Mary cupped the palm of her hand over her mouth to hold back a cry.
“Oh, oh, thank you, Henry,” Mary stuttered as Henry brought the box down and set it on the bed.
“I’d forgotten all about your treasure box, Mom, what all have you been hiding up there? I used to love to look through it when I was little.”
Mary couldn’t think. She was momentarily speechless. “I…I can’t remember. It’s been so long,” she lied. The truth would have changed the destiny of the day.
Henry looked at her quizzically for a long moment. “Nervous about the wedding, Mom?”
Mary nodded, unable to speak.
Henry kissed her suddenly flushed cheek. “Don’t worry. It’ll be just fine, Mom.”
Mary watched Henry walk out the bedroom. She felt hot and sweaty; the curls in her hair would begin to straighten. She went over to the window and opened it. The air was uncooperatively still and already hot, only adding to the heat of her searing guilt.
What a way to start my son’s wedding day.
By ten they were all dressed and ready.
“You look great, Henry,” Mary said, fussing unnecessarily with his tie. “My little boy has grown into such a handsome young man. Well, I guess you did have a good start.” She winked at Bill. They laughed away some of the tension.
A car honked from the street.
“Travis is here,” he said. “We better go.”
“It’s still pretty early, isn’t it?” said his dad.
“No, we’d better go,” Mary agreed. “We might have a flat or something. It’s best to be early and know you’re there, especially for a wedding!”
“Okay, okay. You win. Let’s go then.”
“Oh my, does the car ever look nice,” Mary said.
Streamers of white and blue tissue flowers outlined their 1954 blue and white Oldsmobile, culminating at the front radiator where a huge floral heart was fastened. On the roof of the car was a large wedding cake, made completely of tissue flowers.
“ ’Mornin’, Travis.”
“ ’Mornin’, Hank. Want to make a quick run for it while you still have the chance?”
They all looked at Travis and laughed.
As they drove away to pick up Eddy, Travis started honking the horn.
“No, no, Travis—we’re not married yet.”
“That’s exactly why we should hoot and holler while you still have the chance!”
“You make it sound like he’s going to prison,” Mary tsked.
“Well, women can be pretty restricting, you know,” Travis joked.
&nb
sp; Mary leaned forward from the back seat and slapped his right shoulder lightly with her gloves. “Oh, you men!”
Eddy’s 1962 pink Cadillac was parked in front of his parents’ place. He’d told Henry to pick him up there.
“Wow, what a set of wheels!” exclaimed Travis as he pulled up behind the convertible.
“Some car, isn’t it? Apparently Elvis has one just like it.”
“Maybe I should change my career,” reflected Travis as he honked the horn.
A minute later Eddy came to the door dressed in a brown suit, yellow shirt and a striped dark brown tie. The tie was loose and the top button of his shirt was undone. His pompadour looked a little higher and shinier than usual. The cigarette dangling from his mouth restricted his smile.
Eddy ambled up to the car, rested his hands on the window ledge and peered inside. “Hi folks! Big day, today. Well, lose a son and gain a daughter, isn’t that the old saying?”
“Yes, it is, Eddy,” Mary nodded.
Henry slid into the middle of the front seat to make room for Eddy. Eddy took a last drag of his cigarette, and true to his nature, flipped it into the air as he got into the car.
“Geez, I’m so excited I may pee my pants.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty nervous, too, Eddy,” Henry admitted.
“There’s still time to make a getaway,” said Travis, seizing the moment.
“Just drive to the church, Travis,” said Mary with a chuckle.
A minute later they pulled up in front of the church.
As Henry and his best men walked down the long aisle to the sacristy, he marvelled at the thought that in an hour or so, he and his new wife would be walking down this aisle going in the other direction. They would be married, fully committed to starting a new life together as husband and wife. The thought sent a mixture of exhilaration and trepidation through his body.
“Hello, Henry,” Mr. Engelmann said, breaking into Henry’s thoughts. Mr. Engelmann looked like the Pope himself. His arms were crossed, his hands tucked inside the sleeves of his white vestment. He wore his trademark warm benevolent smile as he gazed tenderly at Henry. He looked just as Henry had imagined he would.
Another Angel of Love Page 51