Vic leans his paddle on the canoe gunnels, and he gazes at me for a long moment, the wind riffles through his hair. Looking up, squinting into the sun, he seems to be thinking. I tilt my head watching him, waiting, enjoying the tranquility of the lake, the birds calling back and forth across the cove. An ovenbird trills teacher, teacher, from the forest floor. And from the muddy shore a bullfrog bellows jug a rum, jug a rum, followed by the familiar banjo twang of the green frog. Sensing the need to be quiet, I wait…. and wait…… and wait. He hasn’t brought up his marriage proposal since my rescue on the mountain…. maybe… he’s changed his mind. Life with me can be pretty chaotic to say the least. When I saw the canoe I thought…….well, I thought maybe……..you know.
“Is this the picnic spot?” My patience wears thin.
“Nope.”
“Oh…..it’s so beautiful.”
“Yep, but the shoreline is that spongy sphagnum moss, a little damp for a picnic. I just wanted to stop here and enjoy the view.”
“I see, but you seem to be looking at me as much as the scenery.”
“Yep.”
“Why?”
“Making sure you don’t get into trouble.” With a sigh, he rakes a hand through his hair.
“How can I get into trouble?” I huff indignantly. “I’m sitting in a canoe with a life jacket underneath me in water that barely reaches my waist. We have a picnic basket full of food, sunscreen with an SPF of 80 and a lifeguard watching over me. There is a canister of bear mace in the pack along with two bottles of wine, so if something should happen, I can die happy. And I’m wearing granny panties.” I finish with a flourish. “What could possibly go wrong?”
“Trust me,” he says, shaking his head wearily. “I’m not letting my guard down for a second, I’ve learned the hard way.”
“You can’t stand guard over me for the rest of my life.” I fume. “That’s crazy, I wouldn’t be surprised to see Ike positioned on that ridge armed with a satellite walkietalkie.”
“I think he’s just a little to the right of the white pine.” Vic chuckles as he points to the line of trees.
“Very funny.” I mutter, thinking so much for a marriage proposal. See what happens when you wait too long. Oh no……. what if he brought me out here to dump me, telling me he can’t take it anymore. The price of bodyguards and S.W.A.T. teams are too expensive, even for him. Maybe he wants out, maybe that’s why he picked out the granny panties…he doesn’t want to be tempted. Oh, God.
In a state of confusion and dread, a host of questions breaks free, fluttering through my mind like confetti in a parade. I barely notice the canoe enter a narrow channel leading back into the main part of the lake. Trying to tame my runaway thoughts, I nervously tug on my lower lip, searching for a topic of conversation to dispel my anxiety. “Hungry?”
“Yep.”
So much for opening the lines of communication, I try again. “Maybe we should peek in that picnic basket. Did Bridget make lunch before she left this morning?”
“Yep.”
Oh, come on, toss me a bone. Why won’t he talk? I’m confused;; no one has ever broken up with me… because I’ve only had two boyfriends and a pathetic love life.
Vic stops paddling and points over my shoulder. “We’re here.”
“Here? Where?” I crane my neck to catch a glimpse and nearly tip the boat.
“Look.” He angles the canoe so I see a small island dotted with pine trees where clumps of blueberry and hobble bush hug the rugged shoreline. A bank of woodland ferns lead down to the water’s edge and a lone columbine pokes its pink head through the green fronds. Nestled in the pines with a view down the lake sits a leanto, constructed of freshly cut lumbar, the clean surface of the wood gleams against the dark pines.
“Oh, what a darling little island. I wonder who owns it?” I ask, enchanted by the sight.
He places the paddle inside the canoe pointing to the island, and nods at me. “It could belong to you.”
“Me?” I look between him and the island in confusion. “What do you mean…..me? Only the Rockefellers and Donald Trump own islands.”
“I would like to give it to you.” He says. Oh, no, this is it. He’s going to leave me on this island like the lepers on Moloki. I’m a menace to society, a person to be ostracized for the safety of the general public. But I don’t like being alone, I’m afraid of the dark. What will I eat…….how long can a person live on blueberries?
He clears his throat and starts to speak, oblivious to the turmoil running through my head, he hesitates and starts again. “I screwed this up the last time. I want to get it right. You deserve to have this done properly.” He takes my hand in his, looking deeply into my eyes, he says, “Elle,” He stops and smiles. “Ella, Ella, my mia bella.” And reaching into his pocket, he takes out a ring and slips it onto my finger; an exquisite sapphire set in woven strands of silver surrounded by diamonds shimmering like tiny rainbows in the sun.
“Will you marry me?”
What did he just say? Did I hear him correctly?
“Elle, marry me, I promise there will be benefits.”
Marry……he definitely said marry. Thank goodness, the uncertainty was just my imagination running away with me….how unusual. I open my mouth to speak, nothing comes out.
He stares down at his feet and mutters something indiscernible, probably in Spanish. He holds up a hand. “Don’t say anything, let me finish.”
His thumb caresses my wrist, “Elle, I promise you a lifetime of Twinkies, a full-time cook, no matter where we live-and that may be selfserving on my part.” He chuckles, shrugging his shoulders. “I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, life is full of ups and downs but let me be your constant.” I try to speak but only croak.
“And I spoke with the owners of the lodge,” he continues, “And if we want the camp, it can be ours. They are moving to Seattle to be closer to their daughter and grandchildren. They fell in love with Puget Sound and the San Juan islands. The lodge no longer works for them. It could be our summer home, close to Josh, and a place for the family to come and visit. The property comes with this island. I told them the final decision was up to my wife. What do you say, will you be my wife?” He cocks his head, smiles at me, his white teeth blazing against his bronze skin, and he says, “Come on, how many people can say they own an island?”
Me!! I can own an island and live happily ever after with Vic. Even after all the insanity, he still wants to marry me! I launch myself full bore into his arms, yelling, “Yes, yes, yes! I will marry you.” And in the blink of an eye, the force of my catapult causes the canoe to roll to its side…….tilt and tip over……into the water….Splash! Oh my God…..they say when you’re drowning your life flashes before you……..but flashing through my mind is the thought, if he lets me drown…he’d never be convicted, no judge or jury in its right mind would pronounce him guilty, it would be ruled justifiable homicide. She had it coming.
Coming to the water’s surface, gasping for air, I see him draped over the canoe. “Elle, buttercup, are you all right?” His voice edged with concern.
“I’m fine, oh Vic, I’m so, so sorry;; I’ve ruined everything. Again! You can change your mind. I understand. How could you possibly want to marry me? I’m a disaster.”
He starts laughing, his body shaking and heaving with the force of it, causing the canoe to rock in the water. “Elle, I can’t imagine a life without you, what would I do for adventure and drama?”
“But I’ve ruined the picnic, we have no food, and we’ll freeze to death in these wet clothes.”
“Nope, I’ve learned. I packed the food and a blanket along with extra clothes in canoe dry bags, just in case something like this happened. I’ve been with you long enough to know that I need to Klutz-Ellen proof.
And what can I say…..….I’ve found my soul mate.
Chapter 48 Mountain Twilight
A few weeks later…….. Today was our wedding day. The completion of
a story…a story that began so long ago in the
mountains….once upon a time boy meets girl at summer camp…...and ends miraculously with……they lived happily ever after. Today I married Vic at our camp surrounded by family and friends. It was the most perfect of days.
Pausing at the open window of our bedroom, I watch the sun sink into the horizon. Cool mountain air pushes back the heat of the day. With a shiver, I search through a pile of gifts stacked on the bed and find the angora shawl Claire gave me this morning……….a wedding present from my daughter-in-law.
Throwing the shawl over my shoulders, I step out onto the balcony, needing a moment of quiet, to reflect back on the day, to savor the precious memories of our wedding.
I love the earth best at twilight; mountain peaks muted in the dying light, the depths of the lake lie dark and deep. Lingering, I watch the sky deepen; pink tinted clouds fade to lavender and the shoreline reflects the colors of the mountains. Profound contentment sweeps over me in a moment of serendipity. Tilting my head to one side, I listen to the sounds drifting over the lawn of stubby mountain grass, the resonance of ice clinking against glass, the ebb and flow of quiet conversation playing as background music for the giggling laughter of children and barking dogs. These are the sounds of contentment, of dreams fulfilled, of a family found and a curse lost. Unconsciously I exhale, letting go of the fear and uncertainty of the past, and send an unspoken prayer of gratitude towards the heavens.
…
One word describes our wedding….magical. We stood under the brilliant June sun, surrounded by loved ones. Even though we were not married in a church, we wanted the sanction of a Christian marriage, a hold over from my Catholic school days and Vic’s devout Mexican family. The ceremony was a blend of traditional wedding rites and Native American rituals. A mix of customs and
cultures we hold dear in God’s cathedral of the forest. Ironically, Vic’s mother has Native American blood. She looks like her Swedish grandfather but her beloved grandmother, Bema was a Lakota Sioux.
Our wedding started on the water, we arrived in separate canoes from opposite ends of the lake. I came from the south in a hand crafted wooden canoe, sides burnished to a golden yellow hue. Lani and Hanna manned the paddles, with strict orders not to tip the canoe. White birch and ribbon along with ferns and wild roses were woven into the gunnels of the boat. It looked like a small barge for a Viking princess. I wore a white dress, long and flowing, delicate embroidery on the hem and a wreath of wildflowers in my hair…….daisies. In my lap rested a bouquet, a cluster of June blooming wildflowers, mimicking the blossoms dotting the meadows and roadsides throughout the mountains. Tall spikes of purple lupine, ox-eyed daisies, pink mountain laurel and yellow bird’s foot trefoil held together by a border of ferns. My hair unbound, fell freely down my back, a deep caramel color, lying in wait for the sun to paint in the streaks of summer copper. On my feet, a delicate pair of sandals, the hand tooled flowers encircling my ankles held with a thin strap. Around my neck, the locket Vic gave me so long ago, the filigree heart, edges worn with tarnish, a familiar weight to anchor my overflowing heart. The choice of clothes reminiscent of a seventies flower child, but truth be told……. that’s how I feel, young, fresh, embarking on a new beginning……. while reclaiming the past. It’s never too late…
Paddling alone, Vic arrived from the north, in an aluminum canoe, a nostalgic rendition of the one we used at Camp High Point. He was dressed in a tuxedo, minus the bow tie. He wore the tuxedo because…. I love a man in a tuxedo. And he looked impossibly handsome. Waiting at the dock, Ike helped us disembark from the canoes. Following a Native American ritual, he placed a blue blanket on Vic’s shoulders and then one on mine, representing our past sorrows and disappointments. Standing between us, he led us up the bank to the plateau of grassy lawn, under the shade of a large white birch tree where our family and friends gathered forming a tight circle. Aside from one of my brothers and our friends from Camp High Point, ironically, most of my family was Jack’s. Jack may be gone, but the love of his family lives on;; and I’ve never loved them more than on the day I married a man….other than their son. Their presence showed the generosity and goodness of their hearts. They stood in a tight knot, beaming at me from all directions; his mom and dad, brothers and sisters with assorted nieces and nephews. Individually, they’re nice people, it’s when you get them in a herd; they can be slightly overwhelming …and if there is one thing Jack’s family never misses, it’s a party. When they accepted our invitation, I was concerned that one look at them would send Vic running for the hills, fearful they were a lynch mob in disguise. And yet quite the opposite happened, with the common bond of beer and poker, Vic, Ike and the brothers played cards until the wee hours of the morning. They wanted to make sure Vic was good enough for me. Can’t be trusting those Hollywood types, Jack’s Da whispered in my ear the night before the wedding …..and they heard we were serving top shelf whiskey.
Vic’s mother arrived for the ceremony wearing a pale blue suit; and a very handsome older gentleman on her arm. After divorcing Vic’s father she stopped drinking and started painting again, even garnered a few private showings of her work. In fact, the silver haired fox escorting her was the owner of one of the galleries hosting her paintings. And he looked quite smitten with her. Looking tall and elegant in her blonde patrician beauty, it’s hard to believe Vic is her son;; they look nothing alike except he inherited her height and elegant bearing along with her loving heart.
Waiting for us under the shade of the birch tree stood the minister from the little stone chapel
overlooking Pine Lake. As we approached the center of the circle, our children aligned themselves on the lawn, standing at the four cardinal directions; north, south, east and west. It is a Native American belief the cardinal directions bring blessings to a marriage.
Lani stood holding a hawk ’s feather, symbolizing the element of air, and in a clear strong voice she invoked the blessings of the east; the bringing of openness, the gift of breath and communication to our marriage. From the east we receive the gift of a new beginning with each rising sun. Trey held a burning flame in a birch bark vessel representing the south: energy, passion, and the warmth of a loving home. Hanna faced west and cradled in her hands a vase of water, filled with river rocks, the element of water. In marriage one must offer absolute trust in each other and vow to keep your hearts open in sorrow as well as joy. And from the North, our Josh; a pottery bowl rests in his hands brimming over with rich black soil, the element of the earth. Earth which provides sustenance, fertility and security, earth which feeds and enriches one, and helps build a stable home, where one may always return.
After our children offered their blessings on our marriage, the minister stepped forward welcoming our guests to the mountains on such a beautiful day, stating our intention to make a solemn eternal covenant before God. His glasses glint in the afternoon sun as he asked the assembled congregation to join in the celebration reflecting our love and joy. Directing us to face each other, we exchanged vows, choosing the traditional Christian rite, time honored, tested and true. Holding hands we pledged our promise to be true from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, for as long as we both shall live. A solemn vow held in our hearts, finalized and consummated through the simple exchange of silver rings.
The minister placed his hands over ours, and looking out over our friends and family he said, “My friends as we gather here, I want you to reflect on why the birch tree we stand under is the perfect symbol for marriage. This tree is rooted in the ground, yet it still reaches to the heavens above, weathering the storms of life. It flexes and bends with the winds, static but always changing, adapting to whatever comes its way, as a husband and wife must bend and give. And always reach for heaven to our Almighty Father from whom all good things come.”
Grasping our hands tightly in his, he continued, “I’m sure everyone gather
ed here today knows the story of Vic and Ellen’s love, the trials, tragedy and separation they endured, and yet within the divine mercy of God, they stand before us professing their love. And lest we forget, their time apart was not for naught. Through Vic’s travels he earned the loyalty of a trusted and invaluable friend. He married and was blessed with his beloved daughter, Hanna.” Here the minister pauses and nods at Hanna who beams a smile at her father. “And somewhere along the way, Vic, I don’t know how or why, but the camera fell in love with your face and you fell in love with the profession of acting.” Reverend Stephans laughs at his little joke before moving on, “And Ellen, you became a teacher, and someone earlier today told me you were named one of New York State’s Outstanding
Environmental Educators a few years ago. Very impressive.” I feel a slow blush creeping to my face, and cut my eyes to Jack’s Dad, who I’m sure was the blabber mouth. He loves to extol the virtues of his children. And I’m blessed to be counted as one of his children. And of course, he smiled back at me with a completely angelic look on his face.
“Ellen, y ou were a loyal and loving wife to Jack for twenty five years, and in your marriage you and Jack raised these beautiful children, or I should say young adults.” He smiles at Lani and Trey. Reverend Stephans sweeps his hand to encompass all of Jack’s family. “And the depth of your commitment to Jack is evident by the loving support of his family. But life changes and we must move on to new beginnings or maybe in this case, to finish a story started so long ago, and bring it to a happy ending.”
“ Vic and Ellen, God had a greater plan for you. A story with many chapters, but the conclusion included the love for a child so great it could not be ignored, a burning desire to be reunited with your son, Josh. And out of that love, God saw fit to bless you with four children and two grandchildren. I’m sure today, your cup runneth over.” Vic and I at this point were overcome with emotion, our foreheads touching as tears unabashedly rolled down our cheeks.
Adirondack Audacity Page 41