Megan scoffed. “I sure don’t have any.”
They continued packing up and moving in with Aunt B and working their evening jobs. During the mornings there were still wedding plans to finalize.
After a couple days Henri and Aunt B took a private carriage tour and asked for Carl as the driver. Megan figured Noah had set that up. She wondered if Henri would kiss Aunt B’s hand. Actually, she’d seen him kiss a lot of hands. Cultural, for him, and charming. Some might say romantic.
Well, she decided it was germy. Not from a Parisian. Only from a Savannahian who was headed for the Bahamas.
Finally, they were all to gather at Aunt B’s for lunch. Megan and Lizzie sat in rocking chairs on the wide front porch when Henri, driving Aunt B in her car, rolled up the driveway and around into the garage. Symon and Annabelle were already inside.
When Noah drove up in a van and started on the walkway to the house, Lizzie jumped. “Excuse me,” she said. “Necessity calls.”
Megan didn’t think Lizzie was plagued with incontinence. She felt abandoned. Maybe it was deliberate. And maybe for the best. She had no reason to avoid Noah. As soon as he stepped onto the porch, she asked, “Is Henri settling in all right?”
He leaned against the tall white column next to the banister. “Oh, yes. He walks around the neighborhood, visits the shops and antique stores, talks to everyone he sees. Keeps himself busy, and in the evenings we get along great.”
Megan nodded. She could hear the rise of voices. Apparently everyone had gathered in the living room. She stood, and as she started to pass Noah he caught hold of her arm.
“Megan,” he said, “I want you, in particular, to go to the Bahamas with me. Please. Consider it.”
Her breath caught. She moved to pull away but felt the light pressure of his hand. Her face must look as stunned as she felt.
“I’m going to tell the others, too, but I wanted to ask you in private.”
She could not make sense of this. At least she hoped she couldn’t. Moving her arm from his grasp she turned and he followed her into the living room.
Aunt B and Henri mentioned having gone to Forsyth Park in which the fountain was modeled after the fountain at Place de la Concorde in Paris. Megan tried to focus on the conversation about carriage rides, renovations, Carl being invited to the wedding, on and on, but she barely heard. Something else occupied her mind.
That something was more questions.
Noah wanted her to go with him to the Bahamas?
She didn’t know whether to be glad he thought that much of her. Or insulted that he thought that little of her.
What did he mean? And he said he would talk to the others about it. If he had any sense at all he couldn’t tell them...ask them... Of course, he didn’t mean anything immoral. Did he? Surely he knew just the two of them couldn’t...
Soon the conversation turned to Henri joining the younger men for their morning swim at the fitness center. Henri complimented Noah and his hospitality, saying he felt right at home.
“That brings me to something I want to talk to you about,” Noah said, and Megan felt herself stiffen.
“I mentioned to some of you that I’m going to the Bahamas in about three weeks.”
“Ooooh, Bahamas,” Lizzie said. “Are we invited?”
“In fact, you are.”
Megan told her mouth not to drop.
“That’s why I wanted to talk to all of you together. My church sponsors annual mission trips. My dad donates supplies and workers. This year we want to help in an area that was devastated by a hurricane and in desperate need of everything.”
Megan hoped she wouldn’t bawl. She’d misjudged him. At least she was learning that she should not jump to conclusions. His intentions were the best, and he’d given her a special invitation. He wasn’t trying to get her alone for some ulterior motive.
Would she go? At that moment she couldn’t think of any other place she’d rather be. Not even Paris or Hawaii.
“It’s not a vacation,” he said. She wasn’t thinking of that. Just about a fine, honorable man.
“There’s nothing luxurious about it,” he warned, “except the setting. This is one of the poorest communities in the northern Bahamas. It’s third world in status. A place called Eleuthera. The latest hurricane that threatened us here on the East Coast did a great deal of damage in the Bahamas. The roof of a church was completely blown away.”
He had everyone’s attention as he talked about it. “After church on Sunday we’ll invite those interested, even if it’s only for donations, to stay after the service for more information. Maybe you’d like to join me there. And Henri, even though I won’t be home, you’re welcome to stay at the house—”
“What? Can’t Eleuthera use a doctor?”
“Well, sure.”
Henri’s handsome face broke into a smile. “Corabeth, I’m sure they could benefit from your teaching experience.”
She nodded as if this were an everyday occurrence. “Yes. And if my girls go, they should have a chaperone.”
Megan had a feeling Aunt B might be the one who could use a chaperone.
Annabelle and Symon gazed at each other then shrugged. “Sounds like a worthwhile project,” Symon said. “I’d like to hear more about it.”
Aunt B laughed lightly. “I think we just settled where we’ll go to church on Sunday.”
* * *
Sometimes Megan felt she spent entirely too much time deciding what to wear to church, but not that Sunday. She decided on one of her favorite outfits—a dark brown denim skirt and a knit crepe U-neck tank accompanied by an aqua lapel jacket with quarter-length sleeves.
She added a wide belt, slipped a wood bangle bracelet onto her wrist and chose a metallic leather clutch. Viewing herself in the mirror she thanked God for her many blessings and reprimanded herself for ever allowing negativity to dominate her thinking.
Aunt B had quoted the scripture many times about to whom much is given, much is required. And she lived by that. She was a generous woman. Even if none of them went on the trip with Noah, there were still many ways they could contribute.
She really wanted to go. She wanted to feel like she was helping the truly needy in some tangible way and not just with giving money. She needed to be honest, too. She wanted to go with Noah. Know him better. She had not been fair to him in her attitude. She had been too quick to judge.
Noah’s dad met them in the church foyer and had an usher lead them to a pew in the beautiful historic church. Megan loved the architecture of old churches. So much detail had gone into the construction and design. The soft organ music inspired reverence. She wondered why Noah hadn’t met them, but when the choir entered their loft she saw Noah with them. Of course, he was a singer. She hoped he didn’t notice she stared. On second thought, if he knew, that meant he stared, too.
After the worship service, Noah’s dad led the presentation about the mission trip and the area in need. He added that the surrounding villages and cities delighted in having American visitors visit with them in their homes and churches.
Noah reported on his experiences in other places in the Bahamas during a couple of summers several years ago. Other volunteers, most of whom made an annual trip, reported on the work and need.
The pastor’s wife approached Aunt B following the meeting and said she knew the church and mission groups would be delighted to have her and Annabelle, known for her testimony and singing, accompany her to various churches.
After church they went to lunch at The Olde Pink House in the heart of the historic district. “C’est magnifique,” Henri said, impressed with the eighteenth-century mansion. Megan intrigued him with the story of James Habersham Jr., who supposedly hanged himself in the basement in 1799.
While they enjoyed a meal of traditional southern fare,
their conversation turned to the mission project at Eleuthera.
“Paul won’t leave the Pirate’s Cave that long,” Lizzie said. “He will be delighted to donate—” she pointed at herself and added with a smirk “—me.”
Megan knew Lizzie would try anything, from nailing on a roof or teaching a class of children. That settled it in Megan’s mind. “I’d love to go. I may have to quit my job, but I’m considering that, anyway.”
“I came here to visit with Corabeth,” Henri said with a warm smile at her. “Whatever she wants to do is fine with me.”
Megan thought the blush on Aunt B’s cheeks was not a reflection of the mansion’s color. “If there’s something of value I can do there, I think it would be a great experience.”
“If the honeymoon goes well,” Symon said, “we might stay in Paris. If not, I’ll leave Annie there and—”
He jerked back when Annabelle tried to stab him with her fork. “You keep that up and you’ll go on that honeymoon alone.”
Noah was pleased. “I’m sure you all know this won’t be a vacation, as I’ve warned you before. Facilities, where there are any, are rustic, even at the mission station. It’s a different world. But you might find it interesting to know that Eleuthera is shaped like a mermaid’s tail.” He laughed at their questioning gazes. “And the narrow island is primarily a beach. Sunsets are spectacular.”
The more he talked, the more Megan wanted to be involved in that project. And maybe take time to stroll along the beach and watch the sun set into the horizon.
But first, there was a wedding on the horizon and she almost laughed aloud at the contrast in her mind. Elegant, lovely clothes and makeup. And then make plans for work clothes, sweat and blisters if Noah and the others had reported correctly.
She looked forward to both.
A wedding. Then Eleuthera.
Chapter 22
Noah knew he was a substitute groomsman for Symon’s publisher friend who had had a family emergency and couldn’t attend the wedding. But he still felt honored.
He also felt that Symon might wear himself out going from window to window, as if peering out would make everything work smoothly. While Paul kept in touch with Lizzie by phone, Noah tried to convince the normally confident Symon that all was well.
“I can’t believe it’s really happening,” he kept saying. “What’s taking so long?”
Both Paul and Noah reported every move to him because his pacing and peering didn’t register.
While reception tables waited on the back lawn, Miss B’s spacious front lawn was a picture-book setting. The pastor, Miss B and Henri exited her antebellum mansion and greeted the guests sitting in the white wedding chairs. They faced the arbor decorated with green vines intertwined with white satin ribbon and yellow roses. The guests had a view of the spacious lawn bordered by live oaks and flowing Spanish moss.
Noah thought Henri had described it best when he’d said earlier, “Enchanté.”
“Almost time,” Noah said when the male violinist and the singer began “The Love of God.” With all eyes watching the violinist in this perfect setting, the pastor rose to stand in the arbor. Symon, Paul and Noah made their way from the cottage and through the cars on the driveway and walked across the lawn to take their places at the arbor.
At the appointed time, Megan stood between the great white columns on the porch of the mansion. She descended the steps and moved slowly down the aisle of white carpet.
Noah swallowed hard, could think of no adequate words to describe her, so his mind repeated what Henri had said. Enchanté.
She was a lovely classic vision in light green. Spring green, he supposed. The form-fitting long silky dress had material over one shoulder, leaving the other one bare. Her hair fell around her shoulders, spread out from her lovely face, and she was smiling as if she was the happiest girl in the world.
He forced his gaze to Lizzie, coming behind Megan and wearing the same style dress in pale yellow. He could only imagine the reason she hadn’t yet found Mr. Right was because none were right. She was a wonderful, beautiful woman.
As the two girls reached the arbor to turn and stand on the other side, Megan glanced at him. Maybe she was thinking Michael should be there and not him. She’d said she had begun to see him as separate from Michael. But in that moment, he felt like a substitute again. Not honored, but inappropriate. If Michael hadn’t run, he’d be the one who was a groomsman.
Then his awkward moment turned to thoughts of how Megan might feel. She’s the one who had been treated unfairly. The one who had every reason to feel self-conscious and uneasy and wonder if she were the object of gossip.
He said a silent prayer, looked over at her and smiled.
She smiled back. Her warm brown eyes seemed to say all was well.
The violinist began to play the wedding march.
Symon breathed, “Oh, my.”
Noah feared Symon might keel over as he looked at the vision who appeared to be floating down the runway of white carpet. He’d heard his mom talk about clothes making the woman. Looking at those three beautiful friends, he knew it was the women who made the clothes.
He had that same feeling he’d had when he first saw the three women together at the mall. They’d been gorgeous. Now that was enhanced a hundredfold. The beauty queen, dark hair piled high. Diamonds or rhinestones in her hair and at her ears, then the soft-looking white silky dress covered with lace. It hugged her figure and spread out behind her for a couple feet along the carpet.
They managed to get through the ceremony and Symon seemed to breathe easier after the pastor said, “I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
Noah experienced that moment of yearning for that something and someone special that could end like this romantic union of two people obviously in love.
His glance at Megan showed her looking at them as if wishing the same, in spite of her having said she didn’t want a man in her life.
The photographer had been taping the entire ceremony, so they didn’t need to pose for photos. Except one. Mudd and SweetiePie were let out of the house. Mudd wore a black bowtie, and SweetiePie had a yellow flower in her hair. They were such an important part of the bride and groom’s love story that they had to be in a photo.
Then there had to be a second photo when the flower fell off and Mudd ate it.
The pastor announced the reception would be at the back of the mansion.
Willamina had directed the catering service, and the backyard was beautiful with white tables with umbrellas and white chairs dotting the lush green lawn. Long tables were filled with food, with a special one for the wedding cake and the sheet cakes. Bowls of punch were ready for the crystal glasses. There were all sorts of finger foods and silver bins into which one could dip out the food. Quite a wedding feast.
Aunt B made sure Noah and his parents were introduced to everyone. His dad, Henri and Carl seemed to take a special liking to each other.
The wedding party decided they wouldn’t change until after Annabelle and Symon did. They’d want to say a last goodbye before Paul would drive them to the airport to board Henri’s private jet and fly off to the Loire Valley.
When his parents said goodbye, his mom thanked Megan for helping Noah place his furniture. His dad said he’d looked over the plans for changes in her home and thought they’d be perfect.
As the sun began to make longer shadows along the lawn and the last guests were leaving, Miss B, Henri, Clovis and Carl were sitting at one of the tables. Noah walked over to the one where Megan sat with Lizzie.
“We were just saying,” Megan commented, “my matchmaking plans for Carl may be taking a detour toward Aunt B’s best friend.”
“Well,” Lizzie said, “Annabelle and Symon are perfect examples of the unexpected partnership.”
Noah took his cell phone from a side table and put it in his pocket. When they settled in the living room, he felt like he really was a part of this group. That feeling of being a substitute had vanished.
He’d been Symon’s groomsman today. He was host to Dr. Beauvais. He was accepted. Megan was a vision of loveliness and seemed at peace with her life.
Henri said he particularly connected with Carl and looked forward to a historic tour he suggested. Clovis, who would spend a couple days with Aunt B, spoke up. “Carl said you could get more out of it if he took us on a private tour and talked while someone else does the driving.”
“Us?” Miss B’s eyebrows rose and her eyes widened.
Clovis shrugged. “That’s what he said. Henri was talking about going with you on the tours, and Carl said he didn’t want to be a third wheel, so he asked me to go along.”
Henri and Aunt B nodded as if they had a date.
“Carl is right,” Megan said. “A private tour is...” She paused. “Um, best.”
She shot a quick glance Noah’s way, and he was sure she grinned. More and more he had to stop and remind himself of his commitment to his cousin. And that acceptance as a friend didn’t mean he could let his thoughts run wild. He needed to try and be content with feeling more accepted by Megan than any time in the past.
His phone vibrated, and he took it from his pocket. His jaw dropped as he stared at the number. He stood.
“Something wrong?” Miss B asked.
Maybe a wrong number. He wanted to say that but knew in all good conscience, he couldn’t. He lifted the phone to his ear. “Hello?”
“Noah?”
“Is this—?” He was reluctant to say the name but everyone’s eyes were questioning. They likely knew. He knew.
“It’s me, Noah. Michael.”
Lessons in Love Page 15