by Leslie Pike
I’m nodding my response because the tears are falling.
“Oh, and January?”
I manage a one word reply. “Yes?”
“The Tarot card knew all along.”
Chapter 10
Brick
Swift weddings. Ours was in New Hampshire where Kate was from. That was fourteen lonely years ago. Lately it’s seemed like another lifetime. Odd. Because all this time it’s felt fresh. Until January showed up, my days were stuck in a pattern. They so closely resembled the shocking reality after Kate and baby’s deaths. It just kept repeating.
I never thought Atticus would be next up, or that so much time would pass before another Swift would marry. Life’s random. I learned that young and the hard way. But that lesson has morphed into something new. Even though I know the randomness is still there, there’s been a change in me. I’m beginning to think it’s time to put the grief down. Let the memories soothe instead of wound.
AC blasting, I’m trying to cool off before getting to January’s. She liked me in this white cashmere sweater and black pants. But it’s fucking hot in the car. Even in December in Memphis.
Tonight might be the right time to tell her how I feel. I want it to be a quiet moment and not in bed. I want our eyes to meet and the words to spill out freely. She needs to know it goes beyond the physical. This happened quickly. God. It’s definitely love though. Just her breath on my neck is proof. We have real intimacy. I’m too old to take that gift for granted.
Thinking of saying those three words aloud for the first time in years makes my stomach flip. In a good way. Excitement not fear. Fact is I’m sure of myself. There’s no reason to hide it now. There’s still an hour before we need to be at Mom and Dad’s. All kinds of time for my declaration, and hopefully hers, to change both our lives.
I make the turn onto her driveway expecting to see her waiting on the porch. It’s one of our things. But she’s not there. Maybe she’ll live up to what she said to me that first date. Buckle up buttercup, I’m always late. I chuckle with the memory. I began to love her a little that day.
Parking the car and getting out, I remove my coat and straighten the sweater. The front door opens.
“Hi,” she says.
But it’s with a different tone and an unfamiliar expression.
“What’s wrong?”
She gives me a puzzled look. “What’re you talking about? Nothing’s wrong.”
But she says it too quickly. And firmly.
I know that face. It makes my day begin. This is a new look I haven’t seen before, like worry or fear. Something’s off.
“You look beautiful. I love those white wool pants with the black sweater.”
“Thanks. You look nice too,” she says dismissively.
What the hell happened between yesterday and today?
She walks to the car and doesn’t wait for me to open her door. She gets in.
Sliding in my side, I look to her.
“What?” she says slightly annoyed.
“How about a proper hello? You don’t want to give me a complex, do you?”
That gets me a smile.
“I’m fairly certain that’s an impossibility. You’re about the most confident man I’ve ever known.”
I start the car and lean over for a kiss. “It’s gonna be a great day.”
It takes a few beats before she answers. “Yeah. Memorable.”
It’s mostly a silent drive to the house. And when she does talk it’s about unimportant things, like weather and work. There’s a sense she’s trying to avoid questions.
When I pull up to the house I miss my opportunity. Here comes Grandpa Davis to greet us.
“Look how cool he looks,” she says.
He’s in all black, shirt and pants, with a black and white small polka dotted bowtie. We were told to wear white and black so the pictures would look striking against the bride and groom and the winter forest colors.
Knowing the late December morning forecast, Atticus and Charlotte anticipated temperatures would be cold. They were right. It’s in the forties. We had instructions to dress appropriately. Actually, everyone liked the idea because tonight we’ll be able to pull out all the stops for the reception.
January exits the car and walks into Grandpa’s embrace.
“Look at this pretty woman! You’re gonna make the larks sing.”
That’s the first sincere smile I’ve seen on her today.
Deep inside the Swift forest we sit waiting. A circle of nine chairs surrounds the open space next to Charlotte and Atticus’ plaque where he proposed. Clever bastard. Now I’m going to have to think of something equally romantic when it’s our turn.
A wooden round’s in the center. Leading back into the trees, is a deep purple velvet strip of carpet. The grey edging matches the tree trunks. That’s a detail I’d never have thought of. That and the rose petals they’ll be walking on.
Mallory sits in the seat next to Bristol, and her latest boyfriend Jeffrey. Grandpa Davis and Grandma Birdie are beside January and I. Reverend Michaels sits holding his Bible. Completing the circle is my father, who sits holding his Lucinda’s hand. I take January’s.
“You’re so cold,” I whisper.
Before she can respond, the music starts. “So Close” by Jon McLaughlin sets the mood. With the first notes, the reverend rises and walks onto the circle. He stands facing the family. Atticus enters from the far side among the trees. His face reflecting what his heart feels. He looks great in the jet-black cashmere suit.
Impatiently he waits, wearing his happiness on his face. And each of us here are smiling with him. Mom and Dad are already teary.
Beautiful Charlotte enters from the Dogwoods, pauses to look at Atticus and walks the rose petal strewn aisle. My brother’s face lights when he sees her. A kind of wonder shows up in his eyes, and by everyone’s expressions, they see it too.
“They look so happy,” January whispers in my ear.
I quietly agree with a squeeze of her hand.
The bride wears an understated long white dress. I think it’s a kind of fine wool. Only a guy who loves clothes would even see that. I had a pair pants a few years ago that were made of the same thing.
Her sleeves are long and the neckline high, but it’s very sexy, because it shows what it’s pretending to hide. My new sister-in-law has a good body. I can see by how he’s looking at her that Atticus appreciates it more than any of us.
For the next fifteen minutes we watch Atticus and Charlotte move closer to becoming husband and wife. Their vows are meaningful and touching, and there’s such love on their faces.
Mallory is softly crying happy tears, Bristol has wiped away a few as well. Surprisingly my grandparents are the most in control. They just look pleased. But the person who’s crying the most? It’s January.
“You okay?” I whisper.
She can’t even respond but buries her face in the man’s handkerchief she brought. I’m stumped. She planned on crying so much she needed an oversized square?
Reverend Michaels covers the enjoined hands of Charlotte and Atticus with his own. “I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
Atticus doesn’t wait for further instructions. He kisses his bride.
The Reverend laughs. “That’s just what I was about to suggest.”
The family rises, claps and call out our love for the newlyweds.
January’s still crying but trying to make everyone believe it’s sentimentality. I don’t buy it. When I take her in my arms there’s no resisting.
“Come with me,” I whisper.
Clasping her hand, I lead her away from the family who by now have surrounded the newlyweds. The trees hide us as we go beyond the well-worn path. I find a small clearing just big enough for the two of us to hide between the Dogwoods.
“Here,” I say turning my body to face her.
I take one long look into her eyes and she dissolves into tears.
“Talk to me, babe,” I say
taking ahold of her hands. “You’re scaring me.”
“What I’m about to say is going to change your life. And it has the power to end what we have,” she says between sobs.
Involuntarily, my skin puckers into a million goosebumps and my brows furrow.
The next words spill out of her quickly. “I want a promise that you won’t have that horrified look on your face when I tell you. Because that would kill me, Brick. Just pretend if you have to.”
What the hell is she going to say?
How bad is it?
“Just please tell me you’re not sick,” I plead. “It’s not that, is it?” My stomach turns with the thought.
“No! It’s not that,” she says shaking her head.
“Then what?”
She locks eyes with me and her crying softens. She lifts her chin with a defiant look. “I’m pregnant.” There’s a pause, and then, “And I’ve decided to have the baby.”
Some moments in life are so stunning they quiet your voice and any chance of describing them clearly. My skin’s tingling face to foot. And all the cells in my body are on high alert attempting to absorb what just happened. At the same time it feels like a space just opened inside me. I swear in this instance my heart grew larger, making room for the love of a child.
My child.
Tears well without notice. Then the pure joy rises and breaks apart into a thousand pieces. I’m so unbelievably happy. She melts into my arms and I pick her up and spin her around the small space between the trees.
“You’re happy? Oh God you’re happy,” she cries, hugging me tight.
Together we cry, like children do when you’ve surprised them with something so beyond their dreams they can hardly believe it’s really happening. The sheer weight of the emotion is shocking.
I look into her eyes. “I love you, January.”
She looks at me tenderly. “You do?” she says softly.
“You must know how much I do. You’re the one.”
“I’m actually the two.” She chuckles.
A smile lifts the corners of my mouth. “Marry me. Let’s close the deal.” The words slide out so effortlessly.
Her lake-blue eyes invite me to stay in their gaze forever. “I love you too. Yes, Brick, I’ll marry you!”
She wraps the graceful fingers of one hand around my neck and leans in to my ear. “Please always look at me this way. And let’s vow every day to show our children what true love looks like. So when they find it for themselves they’ll never let it go.”
No words of agreement are needed, only a kiss to seal our promise. And the whole misbehaving world slips away.
Epilogue
January
I suppose it was destiny that Brick and I would end up owning this house on this enchanted land. The magic has entranced him too. Deciding to marry here was a no brainer. Today the pond is working its charm. It’s been waiting a long time to come alive again.
There’s a new family to welcome. I can’t think of a better time to introduce them to each other than on our wedding day. I’m watching the scene and its’ players. The bright faces tell the whole story. Adults, children, teenagers, beloved grandparents. And of course, the furry friends of the Swift’s.
The Colonel is sitting on Grandpa Davis’s lap, on an inner tube in the shallows. He’s looking satisfied because he’s part of the action. Scarlett’s asleep on the deck despite the music and laughter and general loud time we’re all having around her.
Only Grandma Birdie and Boone are on dry land. One watching over the wait staff as they begin to layout the food, and the other attending to the barbecue and sipping his beloved Jack. He catches my eye and sends me a wink.
The rest of the brood is exploring the ponds farthest reaches or catching some sun as they float. Lucinda, Bristol and Charlotte have tied their tubes together and are rowing in tandem around the entire showy perimeter. I laugh at their antics. Mallory and her boyfriend look as if they’re trying to sneak off unnoticed. But from here I see Atticus watching.
More than once singing has broken out as the playlist Brick and I made accompanies our day. It was my idea we include songs representing all the generations present. Favorites from the fifties through this year.
Then Brick took it a step further and suggested we have every couple’s love song as well. What could be more romantic? There’s no better way to make sure people will enjoy themselves than to play songs they loved when they were young.
To that end we’ve listened to everything today from Sinatra to The Platters, The Animals to Beyoncé. Grandpa and Grandma made us all laugh when they pretended to be loving the rap song Mallory included by dancing in jerky unnatural movements. Their idea of hip modern moves.
I decided to wait for an April wedding because of this place. Even though I’d be six months pregnant and well beyond wearing a sexy body-hugging gown. But I love my baby bump and I’m proud to show it off. I may be a southern girl, but I’ve never been married to the rules of behavior set for its women. I make my own rules. Hence the fact we turned the day upside down putting the reception ahead of the wedding.
Besides, it’s always been my favorite month on the property. The trees are in full bloom. The white bell-shaped flowers of the Carolina silverbells are so lovely for a wedding day. Flowering Dogwoods, and Star Magnolias in white and pink encircle the pond. It’s a riot of color and texture. The afternoon’s holding a perfect seventy-seven degrees. By the time we say our vows at sunset it should still be balmy.
The Swift’s family roots grow deep and tonight I’ll officially entwine myself within them. In a few hours I become January Swift. It feels so beautifully right. And the thought of our child growing up within the embrace of these people seems like a privilege. A gift.
Brick’s wet fingers are entwined in mine as we float together among our reception guests. Me in my white bikini and he in white trunks. How very bridal of us. Leave it to Summer to find us a Bride & Groom float and matching hats for the occasion.
“Look at your sister,” Brick says. “That’s gonna be us soon.”
Summer is standing at the entry to the pond holding a twin in each arm. All three are wearing sun hats. She’s dancing to the music as her husband, Guy, swims between his other two girls and pulls their small rafts.
“I hope you’re not suggesting we have four children! I’m forty fucking years old, remember.”
“I’ll be happy with this one,” he says touching my stomach.
We’re interrupted by the sound of the big bell. Boone’s ringing it and calling for our attention.
“Dinner is served! Everyone out of the pond!” His booming voice goes well with the loud bell.
Grandma Birdie adds her thoughts. “Come on now, children! My food isn’t meant to beaten cold!” she says waving us in.
Soft Break
The long rectangular wooden table set up under the white tent seats all of us. Brick and I are centered between Lucinda and Boone on his side and Summer and her family on mine. Grandpa Davis and Grandma Birdie sit directly across.
“Who wants more wedding cake?” Grandma says.
The moans of the diners rise.
“God no,” Atticus says leaning back in his chair.
“I’ll have a little one,” I say.
“I have no idea where you put it all, January. But God bless you, darlin.” Boone laughs.
“January, what made you and Brick decide to throw the reception first and then the wedding?” Charlotte asks.
“Here’s the thing. We both wanted to have a pond party and the barbecue during the day, and a private ceremony at sunset.”
Leaning forward, Brick makes sure everyone hears his thoughts. “I loved the idea of being able to have our privacy while still knowing you’re all near. And you’ll be waiting for our first dance.”
“I think it’s brilliant,” Grandma Birdie says.
“Thank you both so much for making this day so unique and special,” Lucinda adds, reaching across B
rick and taking my hand.
“Look how beautiful you’ve made our deck and tent. Thank you, Lucinda.”
Lucinda the artist asked if she could contribute to our wedding plan by decorating the dining deck and tent. What a beautiful job she’s done. Flowers spill from the corners of the tent inside and out. She chose the shades of the flowering trees and then used what was opposite on the color wheel to compliment them. It’s made our little family wedding look like an artist’s canvas.
The first notes of Unchained Melody begins and Lucinda swoons. “This is our song!”
Boone rises and extends his hand to her. She’s in his arms before the first lyrics are sung. They dance around the table, to everyone’s delight.
“Will you still be mine?” Boone sings softly in her ear.
“See, this is where we all get our romance gene,” Atticus says.
When they make one full circle around the table, they stop at their chairs.
“A toast!” Boone lifts his champagne glass. “Here’s to the nearly newlyweds, our Brick and his January. May they always see love in each other’s eyes. That’s all you really need.”
“Here, here!” Grandma Birdie says.
We raise our glasses. Mine the only one with sparkling cider.
Atticus taps his knife against his flute, drawing our attention. “I’d like to add something.”
Brick wraps an arm around my shoulders.
“Brother, you’re not only making your bride happy today. You’ve made everyone here happy too.”
Brick smiles his slightly embarrassed grin.
“It’s like our family has one big heart. It’s made of all of us,” he continues.
I see Lucinda dab her eyes with her napkin.
“And for many years our heart has been a little broken,” he says looking at Brick with brotherly love. “Because you were alone. You can’t say we all didn’t try to get you to be a bit more social. Damn it, you’re a hard man to push.”
The family’s laughing at the truth of Atticus’ words.