24

I let Phoebe work her magic on my makeup.

“There. You look marvelous.” She stood behind me as I took a look at her handiwork.

“On second thought, Phoebe, the little diamonds on my lids are too much. Nicely done, though, but could you take them off?” I hoped she wouldn’t be offended, but no way. It was amazing that she had all that makeup in her purse. I guessed a beauty queen, albeit former and fading, must always be at the ready.

“If you insist. I thought you’d like to sparkle on your wedding day,” she said with a sniff.

“Look at her, she’s positively glowing without the little diamonds,” Liz said as she plugged in my hot rollers.

Phoebe removed the little gems and touched up my eye makeup. She hugged me and then fastened my gold cross necklace in place. She slipped a tube of lipstick into my hand and left for the garden without another word.

“Where’d you find it?” Mother exclaimed.

“I’ll tell you later. For now just know there are lots of lost things begging to be found, and prayers are in order.” I caressed my cross.

Mom just shrugged as she began running up my hair in the hot rollers.

Gran’s winter wedding dress lay on my bed. The fifties-era, luscious, velvet gown had weathered the years in pristine condition.

Mom and Liz helped me into Gran’s dress.

I ran my fingers along the neckline trimmed in white velvet and a swirling line of pearls.

“Perfect, the bodice looks as if it was made especially for you.” Mom fastened the velvet-covered buttons that ran up the back. Liz worked on the long sleeve cuff buttons.

I lovingly smoothed the winter white, ankle length velvet skirt. The modest train started at either hip and draped down into a perfect round. A white velvet waist band lay across the vanity chair.

“I wondered if you’d rather a red velvet waist band, Christmas wedding and all. I made one just in case. Either or,” Mom said, taking the luxurious red band from a tissue lined box.

“The red.” My voice shook slightly. Gran’s presence seemed to light on the scene. Mom attached the waistband. I slipped into a pair of bejeweled red pumps.

They took the rollers from my hair and fingered curls around my face and neck.

“We’d better hurry. Everyone’s waiting, and it’s still snowing. Folks are probably getting cold,” Mom said.

“And loving it. A rare gift for our bride,” Liz said putting away boxes and bags.

Mom lifted Gran’s simple sheer veil from the box and floated it over my head. She crowned it with a wreath of ivy, white satin ribbons, and tiny red roses.

“You made it, didn’t you? It’s absolutely the sweetest thing. You read my mind.” I touched the circlet delicately.

“More like you talked non-stop about what you wished. I’m glad you like it.”

“No, I love it. It’s just all too wonderful.” I surveyed their handiwork on my hair, the veil, and the additions to Gran’s dress. Too wonderful for words.

The warm red shade of lipstick that Phoebe left me worked somehow with the red waistband.

“Ack! We forgot pictures,” Liz exclaimed.

“There’s a photographer down at the wedding. But let’s take some photos of her with our phones.” Mom rummaged in her purse for her cell. She and Liz took many snaps.

Liz took a picture of Mom and me together.

“Showtime!” Liz laughed, hugged us both, and headed for the garden.

Mom wrapped her arms around me.

I tried not to cry, but don’t weddings and tears go together? At this wedding, for sure. “I’m so happy, Mom. I can’t believe this day has come. I love him so much.”

“Don’t cry, honey, you’ll mess up your makeup! You know you deserve all the happiness you can find. I love you, darling.” She reached for my hand and pulled me to the door.

“Mom, could I have a moment? I’ll be there in just a few minutes, I promise.”

“Of course, I understand.” She kissed my cheek and hurried out.

The falling snow outside my bedroom window brushed some soft, hushed melody as it whirled across the glass. My cold hands touched my warm cheeks and dabbed at little drops of tears clinging to my eyelashes. Wasn’t there? Yes. A small white Bible and lace handkerchief were tucked in a corner of the wedding dress box. I opened the little missive.

The two shall become one. Helen and Rance, December, 1955.

Prayers rose from my heart. Full of thanksgiving for all that came before, and all my future hopes, I lingered a few more minutes as a single woman. Just my Lord and me.

Such a shame that my father chose not to be a part of our lives. Nothing to dwell on now, but with all forgiven, I’d start my life with Scott with a clean slate.

The two shall become one.

My mom stuck her head in the door. “Your bouquet. I almost forgot.” She handed me the most beautiful spray of red roses and ivy, laced with tiny satin bows and sprinkles of baby’s breath. She blew me a kiss and whisked herself away again.

I carried the bouquet, grasped the Bible and small handkerchief to my heart, and walked downstairs and outside toward my new life.

Scott waited for me at the gate. He seemed taller in his black suit and tie of hunter green. A tiny rosebud surrounded by baby’s breath, tiny ivy, and a red and green striped ribbon donned his lapel. He held out his arm for me.

I couldn’t take my eyes off of those limpid blue eyes, glowing with emotion. I loved everything about that face, that forehead with the indentation of his usual baseball cap, his shock of black hair combed into place.

As we turned toward the prayer garden, awe transfixed my gaze. I nearly stumbled. The beautiful scene rendered me speechless. I merely caught my breath and held on tight to Scott.

They’d created a pathway lined with English ivy and wrapped with small, white twinkling lights. Sheer white ribbons laced along the ivy so lovingly, expertly, that the ribbons looked as if they grew right out of the ground.

As we stepped into the fairy path, O Holy Night began playing. Harp music accompanied our steps. We walked a few yards and soon approached rows of white chairs separated by the ivy path. They’d entwined the backs of the chairs with more winding ivy. Our friends and family stood as we arrived. Thousands of lights bedecked the gazebo, with yards and yards of ivy vines trailing and hanging, caught up with sheer white ribbons.

My radiant mother held out her arms to me from the front row as I passed.

We exchanged a precious embrace and a kiss.

Blinking away tears, I marveled at the row of sweet girlfriends, and line of dashing guy friends waiting for us at the gazebo. Tracy, Mandy, and Macy wore their little black dresses and sheer black stockings. Each friend wore a soft, fuzzy sweater in Christmas red. No doubt from that secret shopping trip I’d observed. They held bouquets of ivy and roses. Lacy snowflakes decorated their hair. Toppy, Todd, and Greg wore the same black suit and a contrasting tie of bright red. Pastor Jack wore the same, but also his black cowboy hat sported his boutonnière. The ivy and roses were from the prayer garden, which made them all that much more precious.

A beautiful table set with a lacy white table cloth and entwined with ivy, lights, and ribbons held framed photographs of my grandmother and Scott’s parents. Someone did some necessary snooping in my things to find that envelope of wedding pictures. The gestures blessed me and included those we loved but missed.

We stood silently as the music played. “Chains shall He break...” Perfect. Hadn’t our chains been broken, Scott’s and mine? I’d been healed of a lifelong hurt in this loving little community. My beloved had struggled with grief and fear. “And in His name all oppression shall cease.” Yes, amen and amen.

“Fall on your knees.” Scott took off his suit coat and spread it on the ground. He held both my hands and we knelt before the Lord. Not planned, but the most natural thing in the world. A holy hush overtook the garden as the ethereal soprano, harp and violin expressed our hearts. “Let all within us praise His holy name.” The snow subsided just as the music ended.

I opened my eyes to those blessed blue ones melding with mine.

We lay our heads together for a moment.

“Oh, night divine.”

Silence ministered holiness and love for a few seconds.

Joy bubbled in my heart as I remembered how Scott and I started months ago, bumping heads. A giggle escaped my happy heart as did his. He thought of it too, I knew it.

He pulled me to a stand.

Our traditional wedding vows consecrated the covenant between us.

Scott completed my engagement ring with his mother’s band.

When I placed Peeps’s ring on Scott’s finger, his eyes brimmed over, and a smile spanned his face. He touched my grandmother’s necklace.

We are a family now.