by Tessa Dane
I pretended to see none of it, and simply smiled through the car window at Andrew, who stood at the curb as we drove away. But my heart had started pounding at the sight of Rand.
XVI
The weather for the wedding was glorious, the guests in formal morning attire, white silken banners flying from the tents, smaller banners with the gray-rose and deeper rose accents that were the bridal party colors. A kind of open altar had been set up, the sea a vast expanse beyond the rise of the estate gardens. White veiling flowed over the altar, held to posts by flowers dyed to match the bridal colors, greenery winding downward to anchor the gossamer fabric to the posts. A harpist, a cellist, and two violins, formed a kind of choir at one side of the altar, and the singer was a young woman with a compelling, beautiful voice, another of Ree’s nieces, training at Juilliard. She was singing a Handel aria, the strings in perfect accompaniment. The aisle had been created wide enough for groomsmen to walk down the aisle in pairs and arrange themselves to one side of Bredon and Ren as they stood waiting for the ceremony to begin.
The music started, and the wedding supervisor, who had worked with Mrs. Cleves from the start, and who seemed to become her shadow, orchestrated the procession as we emerged from the garden room of the Cleves mansion. First, the children: one of the youngest nieces held the small basket of rose petals to strew, and her older brother held the great silk cushion with the rings.
I was next, and behind me, Ree’s niece Charlotte Cleves. We wore light rose dresses and gray sashes, followed by the matron and then maid of honor, both of them in slightly deeper rose with slightly lighter gray sashes than the bridesmaids’. Our dresses were draped, the upper parts of our dresses like flowing capes that curved back behind the dress to the waist, very romantic, very unusual. The women’s murmurs had started with the flower girl, in a miniature bridesmaid dress, her brother in a miniature version of the groomsmen’s formal morning dress, and when Ree appeared, the effect was perfect, so beautiful in its draping and flow, summery but modest, her father controlling his tears as he walked beside her. The bridesmaids had arranged themselves in a semi-circle on the bride’s side of the altar, matching the groomsmen standing on Bredon’s side, and I was swallowing hard to control my tears at the sheer joy on Bredon’s face as he looked at Ree, and her shining face looking at him so lovingly.
Mine were not the only tears. I heard discreet sobbing, but dared not look lest I break down completely. I knew that Robin and Dina were watching me, ready to run up and catch me if I fainted, as they had laughingly promised they would when we had the rehearsal dinner last night. I was beyond grateful to Mrs. Cleves, who without fuss had gathered my friends into the wedding as though they were my sisters, Robin and Dina very much moved by her thoughtfulness. Now, Andrew too was watching me anxiously from the other side of the altar, and I managed a smile once I gathered myself and composed myself.
Ree’s great-uncle James Harlan Cleves, a retired Episcopal bishop, was going to perform the marriage, assisted by the Rector and acolytes from the local church. The old man looked splendid in his red bishop’s blouse, made in pleated silk, no doubt a special gift from Ree’s mother for the occasion. He had a white ceremonial surplice and stole, lace and silk, the embroidery and fabric glinting in the light. One of the acolytes stood off to one side holding the bishop’s staff, its crook facing forward, and on a small table the bishop’s miter. The plain cross set up behind the altar was wood and gold, the altar table holding a Bible and The Book of Common Prayer. Once Ree and Bredon were standing in front of him, he took the book, bound in dark red leather, and opened it where the silk ribbons, red and white, marked the place.
He started with a departure from the usual wording of the service, saying, “In the presence of God, of this company, of those we love who are with us, and those we love whom we cannot see, but who are among the cloud of witnesses in heaven, we come together for this joyful, solemn purpose, the marriage of Ariana to Bredon.”
Dina and Robin had crept closer to the front, as unobtrusively as they could, for they could see the tears of those who knew my family, and saw me holding myself tightly together, the tears welling in my eyes, which I refused to let fall.
In another departure, the bishop, that wonderful old man said, “Who gives this couple to be married?”
Ree’s parents said, “We do,” her brothers and sisters each murmured, “I do,” I said, “I do,” great-aunt Caroline and Holt and Charles said, “We do,” from where we sat or stood.
With a satisfied nod, the old bishop whispered something to Ree and Bredon, and they turned to face each other, taking each other’s hands.
“Dearly Beloved,” he began the traditional words, “we are gathered here together in the sight of God and in the face of this company, to join Ariana and Bredon in holy matrimony…”
It was such a beautiful service, the rings given, the vows taken, Ree and Bredon never looking away from each other except to slip rings on each other’s fingers. I could see Ren was also deeply moved, perhaps remembering his wife, whom no woman could yet replace in his heart and life.
Then came the final “I pronounce you married, wife and husband, and what God has joined together, let no man put asunder.” A mixture of modern and traditional language, with his quick blessing over them, and then, “You may kiss the bride,” to laughter and applause from the guests and Bredon and Ree seemed to glide away together, down the aisle, tightly holding each other’s arms, the bridal party following, into the garden room for a breather before being greeted for the toast and the dancing.
Mrs. Cleves had already arranged that Dina and Robin be waiting for me in the garden room, and they each took an arm, taking turns giving me a kiss on the cheek, and telling me I looked fabulous. Andrew waited his turn to come up to claim my attention, my friends whispering, “Catch you later,” and running back outside to where the guests were regrouping for the luncheon. Andrew’s presence was assuring, safe, and we said little to each other but smiled a lot as the rest of the party rearranged itself, the children gathered by their parents.
A little path opened and Bredon came toward me, a great hug, wordless, and I gave way to my tears, laughing and crying at the same time, Ree coming behind him, her arm around me, giving me a kiss.
“Dray, I have to admire the way you can cry and not have your makeup run,” she said drily. I laughed, for I wore very little eye makeup, a swipe of color, no mascara, lots of blush to cover my paleness, lipstick which I had to have chewed off at this point.
“Come on,” Ree said to the women, and we followed her into the large powder room with its couches and vanity tables, the bathroom beyond. I re-touched my lipstick but did not add shadow or more blush. The woman who had made us up this morning had done a superb job, and my “face” was mostly intact.
“There’s very little to come off,” she had said as I refused one after another of her proposed colors and tintings and mascaras. Then she said, “Well, that’s the advantage of being so young.” She had sighed comically and said, with mock resignation, “I can’t get away without makeup anymore.” She went on to Charlotte, who wanted much more dramatic cosmetic work.
Charlotte did look beautiful afterward, her eyes outlined and her lashes thickened, high color on her lids. I was afraid Mrs. Cleves would want us to match cosmetically, but that blessed woman said nothing when she saw all of us, varyingly made up. I thought, there’s a feminist buried in there not too far under the surface, I just know it. I felt a growing love for this woman who had shown such thoughtfulness toward me, without a single direct word to call attention to her noble goodness.
When the bridal party re-emerged from the garden room to join the guests, a small band had replaced the harpist and other classical musicians. The band leader had a pleasant, mellow speaking voice, asking the guests to welcome the newlyweds, Ree and Bredon coming outside to applause and laughter, the wedding party following.
The traditional dancing began, Ree with her father, both of
them tearful, Bredon with me in lieu of dancing with our mother, and we were holding each other for dear life, fighting back our own tears. Then at the quiet instruction of the band leader, Bredon danced with Mrs. Cleves, and Ren cut in to dance with her, and I danced with Ree’s father. The other members of the bridal party came to the dance floor, all the wedding guests now invited by the band leader to join us. It was a happy scene, a perfect gathering for a quiet but joyful wedding. I danced with Andrew until we were asked to the tables to begin the luncheon, Ren rising to make the champagne toast to the bride and groom.
The luncheon proceeded, the first course served. Bringing Andrew with me, I went over to the table where Dina and Robin were seated with Stuart and Charles, their “plus-one’s.” The band was playing so that guests could dance between courses, and we sat there joking and chatting. With a sudden change of expression, Dina and Robin were looking behind me, their faces alert. Rand was standing there.
“If I may,” he smiled at Andrew, and turned to me. “May I have this dance?”
My heart had started its pounding, but I was determined to appear cool, despite the rising warmth I could feel reaching my face. Andrew had stood up to make room for me to rise and join Rand, he and the other young men looking admiringly at Rand, a man of wealth as legendary as my brother, and who was known to be my brother’s partner in the latest blockbuster international deal. They quickly returned to their joking with each other.
But my girlfriends were watching me and Rand. He drew me quickly to the dance floor and drew me up to him. I felt weak, my breath growing heavy, and Rand’s warmth seeming to increase as he held me. I looked at a space beyond us that held nothing but sky, tents, birds, ocean, but he was looking at me intently, his distinctive cologne and beneath it, his remembered scent.
“You look beautiful, Dray,” he said so that only I could hear him. As we turned, I saw the woman he had brought with him, that same tall and willowy companion he had been with on the night of Stuart’s party. One of the financial moguls was trying to get her attention, her model-like beauty drawing the eyes of men all around her. But she kept looking away from them, looking at us as we danced, though I could only glimpse her face in snatches each time we turned. Her look was curious, calculating. I wondered if she was in love with Rand. He never looked away from me.
“You said you would see me after the wedding,” he said in that same low voice.
“School is starting soon,” I said, trying to find some excuse, but wanting to say yes. The familiar heat and throb had me concentrating on looking cool and unconcerned. Other people were dancing, but many were watching us, including Ren. Like the woman Rand had brought, Ren seemed curious and concerned.
Rand did not answer me, but simply waited patiently as we danced, waiting for another answer. “I’ve volunteered to sponsor new freshmen,” I said, “so I’ll be busy…”
“I’ve looked at your school’s calendar. It will be at least a week before that starts.” His voice was mild with amusement and that same patience. Of course he was patient, he was holding on to me, I could not exactly break free and run away without attracting even more attention than we were receiving.
“Okay,” I said, “call me tomorrow.”
“Say you’ll have lunch with me tomorrow.”
“I don’t know…” I began, and his voice glided into my words, the way we were gliding around as though we had danced together for years.
“I went to Bredon’s school,” he said in that quiet voice, “and Bredon was one of the sponsors of new boys. I have a picture of him and me and your parents at the opening of that year.”
I almost froze, but Rand’s arm held me steadily, its pressure keeping me moving. I had never seen such a picture in our family albums and on the photo disks. Had Rand constructed the picture with computer trickery?
As if reading my thoughts, he said, “Bredon had a copy of the picture, he told me, but his copy was placed in the school archives.”
“So I can get a copy online,” I said. I kept my voice as quiet as his, so that we could not be heard beneath the music. And Rand took care to dance us away from other couples as we spoke.
“No. They don’t put those pictures online. They’re concerned for privacy, and the safety of the students. Lots of issues. But I have a wonderful copy.”
“I could ask Bredon.”
“Yes, you could,” he smiled, knowing I would not raise the matter with my brother, and not today of all days, and who knows what reason I would give him later on. Then he said, “There’s another way into the park where my house is.”
“You’re all surprises today,” I said, just as quietly. “I take it you want payment for the picture.”
“It would be wonderful. But I’m only asking you over for lunch.”
My throbbing, and his heat, told me he was lying. I was so filled with desire for him, it was all I could do not to say, “Oh yes, and when? And, oh, God, you feel wonderful.” I was in a quandary, and stalled again.
“And where is this other entrance?” I managed to ask in an even voice.
“An alley from the back street. And only if you’re accompanied by me. There are no street cameras that cover that way in. Meet me and we’ll duck in together.” He chuckled. “I can be waiting for you at one o’clock,” and named the corner where I would find him.
The dance was coming to an end. “Please say yes.” Gentle. Urgent.
“Yes.”
Rand escorted me to the table, thanked me formally, exchanged some pleasantries with the men, and left to rejoin his companion. I had never asked her name.
A new dance was starting, and Andrew rose, holding out his arms, and I smiled at him, glad for a chance at normality, Robin and Dina also rising with Stuart and Charles, all of us dancing the next dance before the little dinner bell summoned the guests to be seated for the main course.
Ree and Bredon slipped out as the course ended and people rose to dance again. As the servers set arrays of bite-size desserts along the tables, the music stopped, and the band leader invited the guests to a “first stage of the dessert course,” and to please go to the front path of the house where Ree and Bredon would say good-bye to everyone.
They looked so happy, and so gorgeous, Ree’s suit from a Parisian atelier, and Bredon’s cut by his favorite Italian designer. The limousine awaited them, the chauffer in livery. Mrs. Cleves had seen to everything so perfectly, I was filled with admiration, and then the final touch. As the bride and groom made their way down the path, Ree stopped to turn and toss her special bouquet, a manageable spray of flowers, because her bridal bouquet would never be able to be tossed anywhere, it was so large. It had been made to curve into her arms and along her side, and then became the centerpiece at the bridal table. The little bouquet she tossed held sprays of sweet pea and white roses.
Ree’s best friend and maid of honor caught the bouquet, which led to laughter and applause, and then servers circulated with baskets of rose petals and hulled sunflower seed, which guests took by handfuls and tossed toward the departing couple. The wind would blow the petals away and birds would eat the seed. As usual, Mrs. Cleves had thought of everything.
More laughter, waves good-bye, I felt so moved, happy for my brother yet empty as I saw them leaving. Dina and Robin were on either side of me, their arms around me, comforting me because they could see how sad I was beneath my smiles. I was wrenched at the new departures and the stages of our lives that were beginning.
XVII
The night of the wedding, Dina and Ree were with me in my apartment, the men having been told to meet us later for clubbing and dancing after we had all changed out of our wedding clothes.
My girlfriends could hardly contain themselves until we got into my apartment. Marilisa had set up for dinner for us, snacks and sandwiches in the refrigerator, a note telling me to call down if we wanted to order dinner in. None of us wanted to eat anything beyond what was in the apartment, so I called Marilisa to tell her, and we set
about changing and chattering. They had loved everything about the wedding, but what they were bubbling most about was Rand.
“Oh, my God!” Dina exclaimed, for she did not know that I already knew Rand. “He’s so fascinated with you!”
Robin, that wonder of discretion, said nothing about the past. She could, however, talk freely about the wedding. “Dray, the connection between the two of you felt magnetic.”
Dina was nodding vigorously at this. “Lots of people in the room noticed,” she affirmed. “I saw a lot of people watching the two of you dance.”
Robin’s look was careful. “The woman he was with is Carlotta Venter. She’s a model, and is growing more famous. I think being with Rand is a help on that score.”
“Do you think they’re serious?” Dina asked in innocence.
“I’ll have to see what the gossip is,” Robin said, pretending a laugh and indifference.
“What was it like?” Dina asked me, excited for me.
“He’s a smooth dancer, for sure,” I said, smiling to reassure Robin as much as to answer Dina.
“He was whispering to you,” Dina said.
“He went to Bredon’s school,” I told her. I hesitated for a moment and then said, “He met my parents when they came to Parents’ Day. Bredon was his new boys’ sponsor.”
Robin could see that it was all true, but that there was so much more to it. Most loyal of friends, she managed to change the subject. “He looked great,” she said of Rand, “but your brother was the handsomest man there, and Ree looked so incredibly beautiful! That gown!”
By this time we had changed and were sitting in my living room, Robin lounging on the sofa, Dina and I in overstuffed chairs with their little ottomans. We were chatting about the perfect details of the wedding when I heard the low chime of my phone.