“If I do say so myself,” Bess had whispered to her reflection, “I am a very pretty bride!”
When Nathan had at last seen Bess descending the stairs to the first floor of the house he had put his hands to his face as tears sprang to his eyes. Bess had rushed across the room to him.
“You love it, don’t you?” she asked.
Wiping the tears from his eyes, Nathan laughed. “I love you,” he said. “You look so beautiful.”
Now Nathan was busy greeting guests and in his navy suit with a bright white shirt, Bess thought he was by far the most handsome man she had ever seen. With reluctance, she tore her eyes away from Nathan and located her family. They were gathered together not far from the table on which the favors were laid out. As far as Bess knew, none of them had yet ventured to speak to the other guests—and neither had those guests approached the Culpepper family. But it was early and no doubt as time passed, music was played, and wine was drunk, the mingling would take place in earnest. Bess knew how these things worked.
Her mother, Bess thought, looked beautiful. She was wearing a mauve linen dress of her own creation. In both cut and color it suited her perfectly. Though she wore a crystal necklace and earrings that had once belonged to her own mother, her best accessory was her genuinely happy smile.
Mr. Culpepper was wearing his one suit. The suit itself was like a photograph album of the family’s past; Owen Culpepper had worn it to Cousin Todd’s high school graduation; the funerals of the grandparents; the weddings of both of Bess’s sisters; countless christenings; and now, Bess’s own wedding.
Today the suit was fitting very snugly. The fabric was so worn that it was shiny in parts, though the suit was nicely pressed and it was clear to Bess that her mother had replaced the buttons recently. The tie was one Bess recognized as well. She had given it to him on a Father’s Day when she was about ten or eleven. Her dear father.
Ann looked charming in a dress Bess recognized from her sister’s previous pregnancies. It was a blousy midi with long, loose sleeves and a bit of lace at the modest neckline. The pale-green and blue pattern was summery and brought out the startling green of Ann’s eyes.
Mae’s outfit was far less outrageous than the one she had worn to Bess’s shower. Once again, the ensemble was too short for attractiveness, but the overall pattern of cherries against a white background made the dress appropriately festive.
Ann’s husband Walt’s suit was clearly an off-the-rack affair, a dark, muddy blue worn with a maroon shirt and a tie of indeterminate hue. Gus’s suit had a bit more style. Bess recognized it as an Armani from about 1990; he must have purchased it in a decent resale shop. It didn’t fit properly, but Gus looked proud to be wearing it and pride in one’s appearance could go a long way.
As for Bess’s nieces and nephews, they seemed thrilled with the amount of yummy food available; they were all munching mini-cupcakes and tiny peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, food especially provided for young palettes. A memory of Ann and Mae as toddlers flashed across Bess’s mind, Ann with her tiny blond ponytail, Mae clutching her favorite stuffed toy, a very battered giraffe. The memory made her smile.
Bess stepped forward to the porch stairs and no sooner had she done so than her sisters spotted her and came hurrying to her side.
“I never thought I’d see the day!” Ann exclaimed.
Mae nodded. “Me, neither. I had you down for an old maid, Bessie. Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” she added hastily.
Bess ignored the tactlessness of the remark. “I’m wearing the garter you lent to me,” she told Mae.
“You are!” Mae exclaimed. “You know, I really wasn’t sure you would. Your style is so much more, well, it’s so much better than mine.”
“Not better,” Bess said, taking Mae’s hand. “Just different.”
“I missed you when you went away to college,” Ann suddenly blurted. “Not at first, but when you couldn’t come home until Christmas that first year it was like, wow, she’s really gone.”
Bess thought her heart would break. In some way, she thought, she had been waiting most of her life to hear this admission of love.
“I missed you, too,” Mae added. “Sometimes I slept in your room so I could be closer to you.” Then she shrugged. “But everyone moves on, I guess. You graduated and went to Portland and Ann and I got married. That’s just the way it is.”
Bess smiled through tears. “But we’re all here together now,” she said feelingly.
Suddenly, Ann put a hand to her mouth. “Uh-oh, Little Owen is crying! I’d better go.”
“I’ll come too,” Mae said, the two women already hurrying off. “Once Little Owen starts my Dennis won’t be far behind.”
It was at that moment that Bess spotted a tall, thin man coming into the yard from around the side of the house. Chris. He wore a cream-colored linen suit with a pale peach, open-necked shirt. He stopped when he spotted Bess, clearly hesitant to continue.
Bess walked toward him, her hands outstretched.
“I’m really glad you came today,” she said. And she meant it.
Chris nodded. “Me too. And I’m sorry our conversation got out of hand yesterday,” he said.
“That’s okay,” Bess said. “I’m sorry, too. I know I can be too pie in the sky. Enough people have told me that.”
“Don’t apologize,” Chris said firmly. “Idealism is a fine quality. I once heard someone say that a cynic is a disappointed romantic. I would hate to see you become a cynic, especially as a result of something I said or did.”
“That will never happen,” Bess assured him. “I think I came closer to cynicism these past weeks than I ever want to be again. It doesn’t suit me. Neither does being mean. I do love you, Chris.”
“And I love you, Bess. You look gorgeous. You make a lovely bride.”
“As long as Nathan thinks so.”
“I’m sure he does.” Chris smiled and moved off. Before he had gone far one of Bess’s nephews approached him; ten-year-old Gus Jr. was holding up a balsa wood plane that was one of the little toys Bess had provided in a large basket set up next to the children’s performer. Chris squatted and took the plane in his hand. Poor Chris, Bess thought. He would have made a good father, in spite of his demons.
“Bess?” It was the minister. She smiled and tapped her watch. “It’s time. You’d better find your groom.”
The minister turned away and began to herd the guests in the direction of the beach.
This is it, Bess thought, her heart fluttering. This is the start of it all.
Chapter 104
Of course, the weather was perfect, Marta thought. Bess Culpepper would have it no other way, in spite of her backup plans that had backup plans. The sun was warm but not uncomfortably so; the air was fresh; the sky cloudless. Wedding weather if Marta had ever seen it.
Marta stood to one side of the minister; Simon, Nathan’s best man, stood to the minister’s other side. Nathan, looking nervous in the time-honored fashion of grooms everywhere, stood just in front of the minister, fiddling with his cuffs and collar, waiting for the arrival of his bride.
There was no seating. Bess had wanted her friends and family to cluster loosely around the bride and groom. Bess had also nixed the idea of writing personalized vows; Nathan, she said, had been pleased, as the idea of committing his feelings to paper was too daunting. All in all, Marta thought, Bess had created a beautifully low-key event that was nonetheless very special.
A small crowd of onlookers was gathering in addition to the invited guests. Marta smiled to herself. In spite of so much evidence that marriage was no bed of roses or a guarantee of a happy-ever-after, people continued to love weddings, even those of total strangers. That said something good about human nature.
A murmuring and a series of “Ohhs!” and “Ahhs!” announced the appearance of the bride at the foot of the stairs that led from Driftwood House. Marta felt tears spring to her eyes. Bess looked beautiful. Innocent and yet
wise. Natural and yet poised.
With a trembling smile, Bess walked slowly toward the minister, Nathan, Marta, and Simon. The crowd of guests and onlookers parted to let her through and then joined again when she had gone by. When she reached her destination, she handed her bouquet to Marta. Marta held Bess’s hand for a moment at the exchange.
“Mommy, why is Aunt Bess so pretty today?”
The crowd laughed at this delightfully innocent question loudly posed by Mae’s five-year-old son, Alan. Bess turned to her nephew and waved. Then she and Nathan joined hands. Marta glanced toward Mike, who stood with Allison, Chuck, Dean, and Thomas at the front of the crowd. Mike gave his wife a look that melted her already tender heart. Reluctantly, Marta looked away to see if she could spot Chris among the crowd. He was there, but at the very back. Marta wondered if he would disappear the moment the ceremony was over, never to return.
The Universalist Unitarian minister, who had married several of Bess’s colleagues and Portland friends, welcomed the bride and groom and Marta turned her attention to where it rightly belonged. The service was simple. In less than five minutes, the minister was pronouncing Bess and Nathan husband and wife and giving them permission to share a first kiss as a married couple.
Guests and onlookers burst into applause. There was some hooting and hollering as well. Several people wiped tears from smiling faces. Cell phones were held aloft. The children ran in circles or kicked sand into the air or screamed with glee. Some did all three.
After a few minutes, when the initial excitement had died down, the guests were asked to return to Driftwood House for the speeches and the cutting of the cake—or in this case, the cakes. While Bess and Nathan received congratulations, Marta made her way to the bandstand. She realized she still held Bess’s bouquet and absentmindedly shoved it toward the band’s guitarist. He took it, shrugged, and placed it atop an amp. Marta reached into the vintage Lucite bag and withdrew the paper on which her speech—in its latest iteration—was written. The band’s front man handed her a glass of champagne.
She felt more nervous than she ever had when about to address a crowd. Nervous and emotional. Valiantly she fought back tears—Marta MacIntosh did not cry in public; well, not often—and once the band’s front man had called for attention, she scanned the crowd to locate her support system—Mike and her friends—and then, looking directly at the newlyweds, she began to speak. Short and sweet. Keep their attention.
“I am honored to have been chosen to stand here before you to say a few words about my dear friend Bess. Thank you, Bess, for keeping me—for keeping all of your friends—honest by continually reminding us of the importance of friendship. You truly are our anchor in this world so fraught with challenges.
“But to something even more important,” Marta went on. “Bess never stopped believing that one day she would find her soul mate. I admit there were times in the past when I thought she was being naïve. But I was wrong. Bess did find her soul mate and I think she—and Nathan—would agree with Rumi, the mystic and poet, when he says: ‘Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere. They’re in each other all along.’” Marta raised her glass. “To Bess and Nathan!”
Amidst cheers and shouts, Marta left the bandstand and joined Mike, who enveloped her in a hug. Simon took Marta’s place on the bandstand. Briefly, he recounted an amusing incident from his boyhood spent with Nathan, then a slightly embarrassing incident from their college days. That was followed by a discreet mention of Nathan’s becoming a widow in his early thirties and of the many years he spent, as Simon put it, waiting for Bess to walk into his life and make it whole once again.
“Everybody,” Simon said at the end of his heartfelt speech, “have fun!”
Marta smiled at her husband. “You heard what he said. Now, let’s get to it!”
Chapter 105
Allison took a sip of the excellent Prosecco Nathan had chosen for the celebration. She was resting, but only for a moment or two. There were plenty more photographs to be taken before her work for Bess was done, though she would not take a photo of Chris. That she would leave to the pro Bess had hired.
Allison was surprised that Chris had shown up for the wedding. He had seemed so defeated when they had parted the day before. But from somewhere he had found the strength to return. She was glad. She wondered if she owed him a greeting; she wondered if a greeting might wound him. She doubted he would approach her. Indeed, not once throughout the speeches had he tried to catch her attention, though she had found herself sneaking glances at him. Twice she saw him wipe tears from his eyes with his handkerchief. Chris always carried a nice handkerchief.
Suddenly, one of Bess’s nieces—Allison wasn’t quite sure of her name or if she belonged to Ann or to Mae—careened into the table on which were laid out the wedding favors. Several of the boxes containing the handmade soaps toppled to the ground. For a moment, the poor girl looked distraught but then, Chris was at her side, replacing the boxes on the table and speaking to the child with a smile. The little girl’s expression of guilt and fear lifted, and she laughed. Chris placed a gentle hand on her head and then off she ran.
Allison felt her heart break just a little and she looked away from the man who was soon to be her ex-husband. A quieter love . . . In another moment, Chuck and Dean were at her side. Thomas, in Dean’s arms, reached out toward Allison’s neck and grasped her diamond pendant.
“They do that at this age,” Dean explained, gently extricating the diamond from his son’s chubby fingers. “Start to get focused on details.”
Allison knew this bit of fact. She had read so much about a baby’s development. “He’s got good taste,” she said. “Going for diamonds.”
“I spoke with Chris,” Chuck told her. “Rather, I spoke to him. He was too choked up to say much of anything other than hello.”
Allison shook her head. “Why is he doing this to himself? Why doesn’t he go home now?”
Chuck sighed. “I don’t know. I’m trying not to dwell on that question.”
Mike and Marta joined their little group. Mike’s tie was gone, his collar was opened, and his sleeves rolled up.
“Have you talked to Chris?” Marta asked immediately.
“No.” The big question on everyone’s mind, Allison thought.
Mike cleared his throat. “I did,” he said. “Just hello. And I told him it was good to see him again. I meant it.”
Marta asked to hold Thomas. “How much does he weigh?” she asked when Dean had handed him over.
“Pretty much right on target,” Dean said. “A little under eighteen pounds.”
“Good job, Thomas,” Marta told the little boy, planting a kiss on his smooth cheek.
The band’s front man suddenly announced that it was time for the bride and groom’s first dance. Bess had kept to herself the song she had chosen for this special moment, but Allison was not at all surprised when the band played the opening notes of “What a Wonderful World,” a song made popular by the late great Louis Armstrong.
Allison watched fondly as Nathan held out his hand and Bess joined him. Allison wasn’t the only one of the guests who sang along to the beloved standard and who watched with tears in their eyes as husband and wife held each other.
When the song was over the wild applause began, and went on for some time.
What heartbreakingly beautiful lyrics, Allison thought, casting her eye about for Chris. But he was nowhere to be found.
Chapter 106
The formal portraits had been taken after the speeches and cutting of the cakes. Bess and Nathan with Marta and Simon; Bess and Nathan with the Culpepper clan; Bess and Nathan on their own. The first dance as a married couple had been danced. Now Bess and her husband were once again free to mingle among the guests. They received congratulations as they wandered hand in hand across the lawn. They shared observations—Kara looked as if she had stepped out of the pages of a high-fashion magazine; people seemed to be enjoying the band; the lobster dumplings were a hi
t.
“We’ve been fighting the crowd to get to you!”
It was Lisa Fanshaw. She looked fantastic as always, Bess thought, in a classic, cornflower-blue wrap dress. Howard wore a pale gray suit with a white shirt opened at the neck and a pink silky handkerchief in the breast pocket of his jacket.
“I’ve told everyone that I’m responsible for bringing the two of you together!” Lisa declared with a laugh. “I hope you don’t mind my claiming the fame. I just love weddings! And happy endings.”
“This is a happy beginning, I’d say,” Nathan opined.
“True,” Lisa said with a firm nod. “The wedding is only the start of wonderful things.”
“Not always wonderful.” Howard put his arm around his wife’s waist. “But I think what Lisa means is that it’s a heck of a lot easier to face life’s challenges with a partner. At least it has been for us.”
“That’s exactly what I meant,” Lisa confirmed, beaming at her husband.
Arm in arm, they walked off in the direction of the open bar.
“Are they always so happy and in concert with each other?” Bess asked.
Nathan smiled. “Not always. I think a few glasses of champagne are behind their current state of bliss. Still, they are one of the most well-matched couples I’ve ever known.”
“Like we are,” Bess said earnestly.
Nathan smiled down at his wife. “Yes,” he said. “Like we are.”
“I’m so happy Chris came after all,” Bess said as she took Nathan’s arm and they continued to stroll among the guests.
A Wedding on the Beach Page 36