by Mae Nunn
“I can’t imagine that would be necessary. And don’t you have plans of your own?”
“I’ve cleared my calendar just for you. Permanently.” His brown eyes bored into hers.
“Well, if you don’t mind doing me another favor.”
Drew reached for her hand. “It’s not a favor. I want to be here.” He gave it a soft squeeze. “I’ll be dressed and back here before the wedding party returns from the church. Are you going to the ceremony?”
“I think so. I’d really like to see how everyone reacts to the decorations. If they’re as favorable as we expect, the wedding coordinator wants me to work on another project with her next month.”
Her heart melted when his eyes lit up at the news.
“That’s great, Jess.” He spoke the shortened version of her name softly, like an endearment. “I’ll be here waiting when you get to the reception.”
Jessica almost cried when the couple kissed tenderly at the altar. And she choked up again when the guests mounted the steps of the Shure home, exclaiming over what was only the beginning of the magical mosaic gardens.
But the tears spilled unchecked when she spotted Captain Andrew Keegan, more handsome than ever in his dark suit and crisp white shirt. He stood near the topiary flanking the table that held a six-tiered wedding cake.
She waved a brief greeting through the crowd, then detoured to the powder room to repair her mascara and to give herself a pep talk.
“No more tears, Jessica Holliday! You’ve done it! Now go out there and enjoy the party.” She pointed emphatically toward her image in the mirror. “And don’t read too much into his being here.”
She tilted her head toward the ceiling, closed her eyes and clasped hands beneath her chin. Forgive me, Father. I’m beginning to understand that I am blessed. I wouldn’t be where I am this moment without You and the help of my friends. Thank You.
Passing through the hallway, Jessica accepted a frosty glass of club soda from a passing waiter. She eased through the crowd, careful not to trip anyone with her cane. Stepping outside through double doors, she listened to the chatter of guests, overhearing praise for the extraordinary wedding and reception.
Catching her eye, Drew inched his way through the crowd to where she stood.
“Hello” was all she dared.
His even white teeth flashed beneath the Rhett Butler mustache, and both cheeks dimpled his delight at seeing her. Jessica took his extended hand. He held her at arm’s length, turning her once, slowly. She hoped he appreciated her upswept hair and the clingy appeal of the satin gown.
“You’re breathtaking.”
“Thank you.” She sighed.
“And, of course, you know these two,” the mother of the bride said by way of introduction before she moved on to her other guests.
Both heads turned to find Amelia walking toward them. Breaking social protocol by wearing white to a wedding, she was pure chic in her size-two ivory suit.
“Surprise.”
“Yes, it is,” Drew agreed. “I wasn’t expecting you to be here.”
“I just couldn’t think of an excuse to decline Madeline’s invitation. Jessica, be a dear and get me a glass of champagne.”
Drew stiffened. “She’ll do nothing of the kind. Jessica’s a guest, too.”
“Oh, sorry.” Amelia’s attempt to sound sincere was weak. “Madeline is paying Jessica to be here today. I presumed she was working.”
“She’d hardly be wearing that beautiful gown if she were working.”
Amelia looked Jessica over critically. “Yes, it’s nice. I thought so the last time I saw her wear it, too.”
“If you’ll excuse me.” Jessica turned to leave.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” Drew caught her by the elbow and pulled her to his side. “You’re a vision in that gown and I’m not letting you out of my sight this evening.”
There was the slightest gasp from Amelia before she stomped into the crowd.
Two hours into the reception the bride’s father invited everyone to the terrace for the cutting of the wedding cake. Along with two hundred of the Shures’ closest friends, Jessica slowly made her way toward the bride’s table. Once again she spotted Drew standing where she’d first found him, near the pots of topiary.
He was alone and motioning her to join him just behind the wedding cake. As she moved closer, she noticed something unusual. One of her tall ficus arrangements had been enclosed from the bottom up in a silky gold bag tied at the top with fine golden thread. It was barely more than an opaque mist concealing the plants inside.
When she stood beside him, he handed her the end of the thread and whispered softly, “As the bride cuts the cake, give this a pull and step away.” Before she could question him, he faded into the crowd.
The newlyweds took their positions, placed hands together on the silver cake knife and cut into the bottom tier. As instructed, Jessica gave a tug and moved to one side. The crowd fell silent as the golden bag dropped into a shimmering puddle around the planter and the soft shapes inside began to move, fluttering to life, floating into the air.
At the collective “Ohhh” of their guests, the bride and groom turned toward a living kaleidoscope as hundreds of butterflies stirred from their rest to take flight in dazzling splendor.
The photographer’s flash popped again and again, catching the incredible sight of the bridal gown now decorated with tiger swallowtails and mourning cloaks, a single huge monarch perched atop the groom’s shoulder.
Equally amazed, Jessica was awed by the sight.
The bride and groom turned in her direction and raised their glasses as their guests did the same.
“No… I didn’t… You don’t understand.” She tried to explain.
“Just take the credit. You deserve it.” Drew was at her side, arm around her waist, encouraging her to accept the accolades.
She lifted her gaze to him, not willing to take praise she hadn’t earned. “But I didn’t do anything.”
“Make no mistake, no one knows better than I do this beauty wasn’t nearly this ‘natural’ a few hours ago.” He echoed the words she’d said to him in the darkness at Sacred Arms. “You did everything. Now take your bow.”
Praying that her knee would hold, the former dancer executed the same deep curtsy she’d practiced since she was a little girl back in Longview, Texas. The rush of pride and accomplishment in this garden was as strong as it had ever been in the footlights.
As she rose, Jessica felt the warmth of Drew’s palm cupping her elbow. She tilted her head toward him, her eyes moist with emotion. His smile was possibly the sweetest sight she’d ever seen. Her heart thundered in her ears as he lowered his face and covered her trembling lips with his own.
Before a hundred pairs of wide eyes, Andrew pulled Jessica to his chest. As he held her possessively, she mirrored his actions. Twining her arms around his waist, she molded herself to the incredible man and melted into the emotion of the kiss.
A ripple of laughter brought her back to reality. Reluctantly she ended the kiss, silently praying there would be many more to come. She traced her fingertips along his jaw, resting them atop his lips. He kissed them softly, gave her a conspiratorial wink, turned her and gave her a light nudge toward the crowd.
Guests pressed close, surrounding her with congratulations and questions about her new business venture.
With his heart pounding from such a private moment acted out in public, Drew self-consciously accepted a slice of cake. He stepped to the edge of the patio, still within earshot of Jessica’s accolades. His chest swelled more with each potential client who praised her handiwork and inquired about the unique planters. He noted that she frequently mentioned a business called Helping Hands. More than once she commented that God had led her to the unique place. There was no longer any doubt in Drew’s mind. Jessica was beginning to recognize God’s hand on her life.
Jessica seemed to be driving business to Helping Hands instead of grabbing the attention
for herself. She was an amazing lady, and he felt so complete in her presence. How could he have been so wrong about God’s plan for the right woman?
The right woman.
Jessica.
When he thought of her, his skin warmed and his heart raced. He would forever be stirred by the smell of potting soil and shampoo.
“Dear God, it’s true. I love her,” he whispered. “I love her and I don’t even care that I got the plan all wrong. Pastor Driskell was right. You do have a way of changing our plans and giving us everything we need to deal with it.”
As desperately as he wanted to share his heart and his faith with Jessica, he knew there was one other person who deserved to know first.
“Sir, are you still there? I said I love Jessica.”
“I heard you the first time, son.” Marcus sighed into the phone.
“I plan to ask her to be my wife. I wanted you and Faith to be the first to know. I was hoping for your blessing and Mom’s diamond ring.”
“Well, you won’t get either of those things.”
Drew imagined his father’s face, distorted with disappointment.
“You’re a grown man and I may not be able to stop you, but I sure won’t help you. I don’t know what this woman’s hold is on you, but you’re throwing your future away with this completely irresponsible decision.”
Drew’s head snapped back as if he’d been slapped by the angry words.
“This woman’s hold on me is that she accepts me just as I am. Our future together won’t ride on how much money I can make or what my title might be one day or how much influence I’ll have. And you know what’s even better than that, sir? She loves Faith the same way. Jessica treats her like a friend instead of a burden. And if Jessica will have me, our home will always be a place where my sister is welcome, whenever and for as long as she needs us.”
The passion in his voice was obvious, but his father wasn’t moved.
“Don’t do this, Andrew. Give yourself some more time.”
“Time to do what you expect? Isn’t that what you mean, Father? All my life, even when it felt wrong for me, I followed your instructions. But this time I’m doing what I’m certain is right. I’m just sorry you can’t share my joy.” He paused, hoping his father would come to his senses and bless the union.
Drew spoke past the lump in his throat. “Please give Faith a hug for me. Goodbye, sir.”
Chapter Fourteen
Jessica sat at her kitchen counter, Frasier at her feet, waiting for the knock that was sure to come at ten o’clock sharp. She smiled at the thought of something they finally had in common. Punctuality. Wasn’t that the thing that was next to godliness? No, that was cleanliness. Never mind.
Ears still ringing with last night’s compliments, she closed her eyes and whispered her gratitude, amazed how naturally prayer was becoming part of her life. Her faith was refreshed with each prayer. Next she enjoyed a mental replay of the evening. She’d thought such exhilaration from physical accomplishment was a thing of the past. It was a joyful revelation to know she’d been wrong. She’d been wrong about a lot of things, not the least of which was Andrew Keegan.
Three sharp blasts of a car horn opened her eyes. She hurried to the utility-room window and raised the blinds. She waved excitedly, motioned “just a minute,” then headed for the front door, shouting up the stairs as she went.
“Beej! I’m gone!”
She bent to give Frasier’s silky head a loving pat. “See ya later, buddy.”
She reached for her shoulder bag, but her hand stopped short of the aluminum cane. Remembering last night’s curtsy, she cautiously examined the knee for swelling below the red scar. Finding none, she flexed her leg back and forward several times, finally testing the strength of the knee with some careful pliés. With satisfaction, she left the cane in the umbrella stand and closed the door behind her.
“Wow! What a great surprise!” Clad in walking shorts and a bright yellow T-shirt, Jessica spread her arms to indicate the shining convertible.
Drew stood before her in faded jeans, holding open the passenger door. “I hoped you’d like it.”
“I love it!” She beamed as she slipped into the seat.
And I love you, he thought to himself.
The realization had kept him up most of the night. Just knowing the woman he longed for was separated from him only by their common wall was almost too much to bear. He’d had visions of cutting a hole in that wall.
At 4:00 a.m. he’d finally given up the idea of sleep and opted for an early run to Metro. When the fluorescent overhead lights bounced off the red ’68 convertible, he’d immediately thought of Jessica.
He slid in beside her and turned as he fastened the seat belt.
“I hope you don’t mind what the wind does to that gorgeous hair.” He allowed himself the bold pleasure of running his hand down the back of her honey-colored locks.
She smiled in response. Reaching into the pocket of the khaki shorts, she pulled out an elastic band.
“Not a problem.”
He watched with fascination as she expertly worked the thick hair into a golden braid and snapped the elastic around its tail. Little wisps remained free around her face, bangs dancing in the morning breeze just above her eyelashes. He drank in the sight of her clean face, free of any pretentious makeup.
He couldn’t help himself. He tugged the silky braid, gently urging her toward him. He smiled down into the emerald depths of her eyes, fighting to contain the joy in his heart. He wasn’t sure of her feelings and hardly understood his own.
Jessica laid her hand on his arm. When she spoke, her voice was husky with emotion.
“As much as I value independence and wanted to do this on my own, you were the answer to a desperate prayer yesterday.” He opened his mouth to speak, but she raised her palm, silencing him.
“I was wrong, Drew. I misconstrued something Valentine said and jumped to the conclusion you’d turned me in. I can’t tell you how bad I feel about misjudging you, especially when I know how painful false judgment feels.”
She paused, searching his face. “I’m sorry, Drew. Please forgive me.”
“Consider it forgiven and forgotten.” He lightly brushed the back of his hand over her cheek and down along her jaw, his unspoken love growing at her mention of answered prayer.
Before he could pull away, Jessica caught his hand between her two, held it to her lips and kissed it sweetly. She looked surprised and slightly embarrassed at the impulsive act, before she released him and busied herself with the seat belt.
“What a perfect day for a drive,” she said, tilting her face toward the warm sun.
He brought the vintage engine to life, studying her profile. Longing stirred as he admired the upturned face. He drew in a deep breath and eased the car into motion.
He planned to head north, toward the cooler temperatures of the Georgia mountains, but Jessica had another destination in mind. He gladly adopted her plan instead, following unfamiliar directions. Both were content to be silent, enjoying the wind on their skin and the quiet companionship.
The convertible slipped into a gravel parking lot with several dozen other cars. In no hurry to join the small crowd gathering for the art exhibit, they sat in the sunshine, eventually breaking the comfortable silence.
“Okay, confess,” she insisted.
His eyebrows shot up in question. “Confess?”
“Don’t play coy with me, mister. Where’d those butterflies come from and how’d you know about that in the first place?”
He tried to appear humble.
“I should probably start by apologizing for poking my nose into your business.”
“You’re forgiven.” She made a forward motion with her hand. “Continue, please.”
“Well, you probably figured out I played Santa’s helper while you were asleep the other night.”
She shielded her eyes with her hand. “Don’t remind me. Seeing me passed out on the floor probab
ly gave you nightmares.”
“You were a Sleeping Beauty.” He said it with all sincerity, then added with a smile, “And the loud snoring really helped cover any noise I made.”
As her eyes widened, she punched him playfully in the arm. “That’s probably the truth! Every roommate I ever had accused me of it.”
“Anyway, I saw your list on the counter. I noticed that you’d checked off all the other stuff, but you’d crossed out the butterfly idea.”
“It was one of Madeline’s crazy requests, but I did make a small effort at it. I spoke to the manager of the butterfly house at Callaway Gardens to see if they’d sell them to me. She turned me down flat and I had too much else to worry about at the time, so I just scratched it off the list.”
His voice was tinged with mischief. “Well, I guess that’s where being the son of Marcus Keegan can have its advantages. I did the same thing you did, but I tossed out my father’s name a time or two. I assured her that he’d not only consider it a personal favor, but, along with replacing the stock, he’d agree to a scheduled visit during their next fund-raising campaign.”
Jessica covered her mouth to hold back the laughter. “You didn’t.”
“I did.” He waved it off. “Oh, he won’t mind. He and Faith will come for a visit sooner or later, and he never tires of being a public servant. Anyway, after that it was just a matter of doing what you had written down. When you caught me just as I was leaving yesterday morning, that’s where I was headed. All day long I was afraid I wouldn’t get away from setting up in time to take care of that last detail.”
The smile left her face, replaced by true shock. Jessica seemed at a loss for words. She reached a trembling hand across the short distance that separated them and touched his bare forearm. Without hesitation he placed his own warm hand over hers, thankful he could caress her without guilt at last.
“You were going to do that for me even after the way I misjudged you?”
“Jess, you’re not the only one who misjudged. I said some really stupid things to you and my only defense is selfish ignorance.”