His long strides carried him quickly to the love of his life. “Elizabeth!” He heard the warmth and gladness in his voice and knew she must hear it, too.
She turned and his eyes dropped.
“My God!” He stopped, immobile, as if someone had decked him. A walker. A walker?
She had gotten worse; she was . . . how could this have happened . . . crippled . . . His mouth tightened as an uncontrollable fury washed over him like a fire, angry acerbic words spilling out before he had a chance to think.
Elizabeth had turned, surprised to hear him, a smile just starting but it faded immediately as she saw herself vividly reflected in his outrage.
“My God, what have you done! What have you done to yourself? You let it get worse, my God, my God, why didn’t you call me! How did this happen?” His words were disjointed, coming out in gasps. He was angry enough to take on God and the whole might of heaven for doing this to his wife, but all he did was spark a hatred in the woman he loved more than life.
Fury exploded inside her and she despised him at that moment for making her less than she was, for making her see through his eyes just how damaged she really was.
“Michael.” Her voice was like ice and then her words slit his heart, stopping everything, all feeling and thought. “When this day is over, I never want to see you again.” Her words were dangerously measured and intent blue eyes held his until she saw the flicker of understanding and then, still holding on to the wheeled walker, she moved with surprising grace and left. He heard the door slamming behind her as she went inside; the lock snapped into place.
Immediately, Carol moved to go inside the house from the front, as Gordon moved swiftly, barely making it before Michael started sinking.
It was unfortunate Virginia Mae and Julia arrived at that moment. The old ladies waved to the gentlemen outside and, chatting noisily, went inside.
“Elizabeth,” Carol whispered as she made it to the kitchen and saw her cousin, trembling and white. Carol’s eyes closed briefly as she heard her aunt and mother come in, thinking it couldn’t be a worse time.
“Are you all right?” Carol whispered, trying to shield her cousin from the old ladies walking in. Elizabeth seemed not to hear her. Virginia Mae came in complaining about the accommodations at the bed-and-breakfast, but faltered as she saw her daughter.
“Elizabeth! Sit down, my child; you look awful. Carol, get some . . . some, goodness do you have smelling salts around here? Elizabeth, you look like you’re going to faint.” Virginia Mae was in her face, touching her hair, pulling an arm to get her child to sit down, concern making her babble.
“Mother.” Elizabeth’s voice was as clear as a bell and daunting in its clarity. “Leave me alone.”
She pulled away abruptly, her eyes cold. Virginia Mae just gaped at her, at first hurt and then the anger took over.
She was sick and tired of her daughter being downright selfish, and she for one was fed up, hands on her hips, her face red with emotion. Next to her Julia stood, confused.
“Well, excuse me, Elizabeth, for caring about you. I am extremely sorry if my concern makes you angry. But what in the living hell am I supposed to do? You go your own selfish way, you won’t confide in any of us, you won’t let us help— Oh, I know we failed miserably at first, but instead of telling us how to help, you just shut us out, you didn’t even try. Now we aren’t even allowed to care? I swear, if I could hate you I would. But I can’t!”
Mother and daughter stared at each other, separated by a generation of differences, yet bound by the irrevocable ties that made them forever a part of each other. Virginia Mae stood her ground, never wavering or tearing up, she was just too livid.
“Aunt Mae, I don’t think you understand,” Carol started to say, but Elizabeth put up a hand to stop her.
Elizabeth stood there, stunned that fury would blind her to any more rage, or even more destructive thoughts.
Flooding her were all her good intentions for this day, Kellan’s day. She, Elizabeth Whittaker, didn’t matter. What her mother just said was as clear as mountain water and just as honest. She blinked, discovering with wonder that she had indeed been selfish . . . and uncaring . . . and everything she thought she wasn’t. And suddenly the peace of God welled up inside her, forcing out the shadows of all that had upset her just moments ago, all that had tried to snatch away her joy.
“Elizabeth?” Carol’s concern grayed her face and voice, but that was banished when Elizabeth turned.
The smile was a solid radiance so soft it was intensified by the absence of all the darkness that had been wrapped in this room just seconds before.
“Carol, I’m sorry. Mother.” She turned to wrap her arms around Virginia Mae, who now couldn’t keep the tears from tumbling out. “You are right. And I’m more sorry than I can say.”
Carol watched as even her mother, overcome with emotion, wrapped arms around her sister and niece for a long moment before coming over to her daughter, embracing her for once with a hug as big as her heart.
“Michael.” Gordon helped ease him onto a patio chair, concerned. His friend was bent over, misery making him old. He kept a grip on his shoulder until Michael seemed to be breathing more regularly. Color was slowly coming back and Gordon wished he could do more . . . wished he’d been able to talk to him before he got here this morning. He had heard what Elizabeth said, saw what it had done to Michael.
In Gordon’s long experience, emotional cuts to the heart were sometimes irreparable. He hated to think this would be the case here, but it sure didn’t look like any healing would take place this day.
“Gordon . . . I just can’t bear it.” Michael’s voice was more than sorry, it was defeated.
Gordon helped him up. “Come on. We’re getting out of here.”
He helped him to his own car, and then went back to Michael’s car to get the hanging clothes bag and smaller suitcase. As they drove off, he figured he’d watch the clock and get them both back here before the wedding, but it sure appeared to him that a little venting had to happen to get bad feelings out of his friend before anything else happened.
Silence remained unbroken until they got to the accommodations. “Up for a walk?” He waited for Michael to shrug. Within moments they were on the cement sidewalk heading toward the tip of town where he and Carol had been earlier. “Carol and I tried to call you this morning. Sorry we didn’t catch you.”
“Did you know?”
“Not till last night.”
They were on the small sandy beach that would within hours be covered when high tide muscled through.
“Ah, Gordon, if she had only taken better care of herself.” Michael sighed, his face wrapped in despair.
As gently as he could, Gordon said softly, “It would not have made a difference.”
Michael snorted, anger at his friend pumping him with a little energy. “How can you know that? If she’d been on any of those therapies they wanted her on—”
Again, the interruption was soft but the intent clear. “She is. Has been taking them since before she tried the marijuana.”
Michael looked blank. “But she said she had stopped it. You were there, you heard her.”
Gordon nodded. “I know”—he shrugged—“but last night she told me she was still taking it. And she’s been on oral steroids to try to get rid of some numbness in her legs, which may be contributing to the balance problem. And she’s getting physical therapy. Just started that about two weeks ago.”
Michael shook his head, not getting it. “Why couldn’t she tell me all this?”
Gordon said nothing, watching his friend closely.
Then it hit Michael, as if a ball had just landed at his feet. “If she’s on one of the therapies, then why is she having any trouble at all?”
Gordon sighed, wishing people would absorb all the information he told them instead of just the parts they wanted to hear.
“It doesn’t work that way. It has never worked that way. It has been
proved to slow down the disease process. That’s it, which is really so much more than we’ve had, but it does not, I repeat, does not eliminate exacerbations.” He watched as Michael visibly struggled with that, recalling countless other patients to whom he had told the same things over and over until realization finally hit. And it always hit hard.
Michael’s mind churned over a sickening array of memories, thinking of all the stupid things he had just said to Elizabeth, had said to her over these last years, incredibly unjust things because he didn’t know. Or didn’t want to know. God, he felt like such a coward, such a . . . bully. He looked over at Gordon, wondering if he could live through this, already knowing there was no choice. Slowly, the words came out of his mouth reluctantly. “It’s all really . . . just a crapshoot, isn’t it? I mean, all we can really control is the way we react to the things that happen to us.”
His friend’s slight amusement had a hard edge of reality to it as Gordon extended his hand and pumped Michael’s up and down. “Welcome to the real world, my friend.”
Chapter Forty-one
Elizabeth finished dressing in a long soft dress of coral appropriate for the mother of the bride. White earrings and long pearls accented the lovely layers of silk. She wasn’t wearing the brace because she had decided to wear sandals, and she couldn’t do one with the other. Besides, she would have the walker, which had turned out to be the best security blanket of all.
She heard muffled giggles as she walked toward the kitchen and wondered if the caterers were having a joke about something. When she entered, Kellan, her mother, Julia, and Carol were all standing in a line, dressed for the occasion. Her eyes filled with tears as she looked at her daughter. A slim dress of ivory glistened; her hair was left long with small braids pulled away from her face, a circlet of flowers on her head.
“Kellan, you look . . . so beautiful.” She held out her arms as she moved carefully toward her daughter, but stopped as Kellan held up her hands. Elizabeth then noticed Carol trying hard not to laugh and then suddenly everyone stepped aside. Kellan flung open both hands. “Tah-dah!”
Sitting right in front of her was a concoction of ribbons, ivory, and coral, along with a bevy of flowers in the same colors rippling over the handles and twining down black steel with a bow at each of the four wheels.
Elizabeth gaped and then her mouth widened as she dissolved into laughter. “You’ve got to be kidding; this is wonderful!” Her entire four-wheeled walker was decked out for the wedding.
“We figured your steed needed some color coordinating,” Kellan said brightly, hugging her mother hard.
“We thought nothing of the kind,” Virginia Mae corrected her granddaughter sternly, waiting for startled eyes to turn her way before she grinned. “We don’t have that kind of imagination. Kellan thought of the whole thing herself, but she let us help.”
“Mother, Julia, Carol,” Elizabeth marveled, touching the shiny walker. “And my Kellan. Thank you, thank you so much . . . it’s wonderful.” Tears started burning her eyes and she sniffed. “I’m going to cry my eyes out at this wedding, I’m already halfway there.”
Kellan patted her on the back fondly. “Promise me you’ll tell Ian and Adrienne Moore that Gregory and I are taking them out to dinner as soon as we get back. I wish they had been able to come.”
“So do I.” Elizabeth smiled. “But they really needed to visit their friends in Pennsylvania.”
“I understand.” Kellan’s smile was as bright as her future.
Then they all stilled as the music started playing. The musical trio featuring flute, clarinet, and French horn had started the prelude, which meant it was precisely fifteen minutes before showtime. Giggling like young girls, all of them hurried out, holding the door open for Elizabeth to walk out in style pushing her grandly dressed walker.
They went quickly to the front. Gregory was already there with his brother-in-law, the best man. Father Joseph Wells stood ready for the ceremony to begin.
At the back with the rest of the party, Gordon escorted Julia and Virginia Mae, one on each arm, to the chairs at the very front.
Michael, somber in a dark suit, held out his hand for his wife and then colored as he realized she wouldn’t need it. Her eyes were cold for the brief moment she glanced at him and then she started pushing the walker slowly toward the front, keeping in time to the music.
She almost misstepped, though, when Michael’s hand covered one of hers and kept it there until they got to their seats at the front next to her mother and aunt.
As soon as Elizabeth sat down Michael left, thrilled and misty that in moments he would be walking his daughter down this grassy aisle.
Elizabeth nodded to Father Joseph, standing tall under the arbor, his face beaming. He loved weddings. Especially when the couple was as in love and as honorable as these two young people were. He had counseled them three times prior to this date; he knew about the situation they might be facing and he had prayed with them and for them. He felt a divine light surrounding them. This was a very holy union, and he was thrilled to be asked to participate.
One of Gregory’s cousins escorted his mother and sister, carrying her baby, to the groom’s side at the front. There were only about twenty guests made up of the two families and close friends.
And the wedding march began. Michael looked at his daughter, marveling that it seemed like yesterday that he was teaching her to ride a bicycle, that they were hitting her first tennis ball together. His throat closed up as her face lifted and she smiled at him. “Ready?” Her voice was soft but vibrant.
Barely, he thought as they hooked arms and started walking toward her future.
Elizabeth felt a tear slide down her face, her heart swelling with wonderful, marvelous emotions seeing her baby walk toward the man she loved.
But when Michael came to stand next to her and touched her arm she flinched. Her anger from this morning toward him had never dimmed; it had merely been shoved aside to get to this moment.
In her mind she was already demanding a divorce from him, completely justified because of his horrid, despicable behavior. She meant it when she had told him this morning she never wanted to see him again after today. She would not put up with anything more from a man who could slam her to the ground emotionally.
Her face never showed her cold rage. She clung to the piles of righteous indignation even while she made herself listen carefully when Father Joseph began to speak.
“I would like to say before we actually start the marriage service, how thrilled I am to be part of this blessed event.” Father Joseph smiled, his face suffused with the rightness of this moment. “It is an honor. I know without a doubt God has brought these two young people, Gregory David Jamison and Kellan Lane Whittaker, to this moment through His love and His desire.
“I know that you have a living example in your midst that can help as you make your own way as a couple, and that is Michael and Elizabeth Whittaker. They have known great changes in their own lives together, but I can see they are still as in love with each other as Kellan and Gregory are at this moment. May God bless you so each of you may enjoy the wonders and the learning moments you may find, always with God’s help, as you journey through this uncertain life, secure in the knowledge of your love for each other and always of God’s all-abiding love.”
Elizabeth dropped her eyes, swallowing hard. So we won’t get divorced, fine, but I am not living with this man who is sitting next to me playing a charlatan, smiling as if he cares when he does not.
She looked up and devoted all her attention not to only ignoring her husband but to listening and watching every second of her daughter’s wedding. A tear even trickled down her cheek as she watched her baby walk hand in hand with her new husband down the aisle, followed by Carol and the best man, and then she, the mother of the bride, followed with Michael.
And that was what she did the rest of the afternoon. She had nothing to say to him and so much to say to other people. She smiled and laughe
d and often went out of her way to hug her daughter one more time.
The large shrimp and jumbo crab legs had been pretty much devoured, champagne toasts had been lifted to the couple, and Gregory and Kellan had changed and were getting ready to leave.
“Come on, all unmarried women, get up here,” she called, laughing as she held up her bouquet in the air, teasing.
Kellan waited until Gregory’s cousin Alex and her former roommates were there, and then she made Carol come up. “Come on, no getting out of this,” she declared, waiting for them all to get lined up before turning her back and tossing the flowers high into the sky.
When Kellan turned around she saw her godmother looking astonished, holding the bouquet. “Look, you’ve got to do this over again; I’m never getting married,” Carol protested, trying to shove the flowers back into Kellan’s hands.
“Now, you never know,” Kellan drawled, grabbing her new husband’s hand and running toward the car.
Carol, dismayed, looked at the other young girls. “Look, I’ll throw them again. One of you younger ones need to catch this.”
When they merely laughed and moved away, Carol felt even older. “You ain’t over the hill yet,” admonished Alex, throwing a friendly arm across Carol’s shoulders. “Besides, that’s a pretty swell-looking guy you’re with,” she pointed out, grinning before one of her brothers walked up, telling her their mother needed her.
Carol immediately looked at Gordon, who was talking to Gregory’s best man. For a startling moment she saw him through Alex’s eyes. Yes, he was a very attractive man, she realized, a little surprised at how very attractive he was. It was odd . . . they had become such good friends, Carol had never seriously thought about him that way.
She shrugged away from a sadness that covered her like a brief cloud, instead glancing at the white bouquet, shifting her thoughts. She wondered if she should dry the flowers and make potpourri for the couple. She turned away to go find Elizabeth.
A Sundog Moment Page 41