by Lisa Prysock
“Thank you,” she’d whispered back, admiring his black suit and white shirt with its elaborate cravat. “You look handsome, too.”
When they’d finished their vows, the minister pronounced them husband and wife, and told Zane he could kiss his bride. The crowd cheered and clapped, their cheers echoing through the glass conservatory. “I now present to you, Dr. and Mrs. Zane Beckham.”
They smiled at each other as they turned toward their guests, and then made their way to the cake table. There, Zane paused to make an announcement.
“Ladies and gentlemen of Pelican Rapids, thank you so much for coming to share our wedding day. Jenny and I invite you to stay a while longer as there are a few surprises I have planned for my bride and our guests. I wanted to add that some of you may have heard about my tiger who escaped into town yesterday. Please accept sincerest apologies for that frightening mishap. I do not take it lightly, and have made every effort to learn from this experience. This very moment, I have as of this morning, taken measures to prevent this from happening again, and have ordered a new cage that will ensure the safety of the citizens of Pelican Rapids.”
On this note, the guests began to clap with approval of Zane’s actions, showing their good-natured willingness to forgive him for what had occurred the day before.
When the applause died down, Zane continued. “I am also pleased to announce that with the help of the Sheriff and many other citizens like Josiah Milton, Captain Brooks, Henry, and quite a few others, we managed to capture the tiger before he caused any harm. In the meantime, I wanted to let you know I have a collection of exotic animals, and have built a small, private menagerie here on the grounds at Orange Blossom Manor for the pleasure of both myself and the people of our wonderful community.” This announcement caused a stir of excited reactions and whispers. Zane continued. “This educational and exciting menagerie will be open to the public during certain hours in the coming months. We hope you will enjoy and look forward to the grand opening in the near future as one of the first menageries in Minnesota, patterned after many of those I have seen in Austria, Paris, St. Petersburg, London, New York, and Philadelphia.”
The guests clapped with a few squeals of delight from amongst the children. Then things settled down again as a female pianist Jenny didn’t recognize sat down at the beautiful heart-shaped piano in the large conservatory. She placed her hands on the keys and began playing Chopin’s “Sprint Waltz,” also known as “Mariage d’Amour.” There were gasps of delight throughout the crowd of guests as the talented pianist played the beautiful piece. Zane, having kept Jenny at his side during his announcement, putting his arm around her waist at their cake table, situated on the other side of the conservatory near the terrace doors.
Soon they’d cut their first piece of the three-tiered, white almond cake drizzled with maple syrup as the pianist played the lovely waltz. A moment later, while they still held the cake knife together, one of those new-fangled, picture-taking gentlemen paused before them holding up his equipment. “Smile!” he called out as he snapped something. After he’d taken their likeness, he continued hovering about them and their guests, taking a few more of these things Jenny knew they called photographs. She was excited about the prospect of having them as memories, and the fact he was there was yet another wonderful surprise.
While some of Zane’s staff passed out slices of cake, the pianist continued playing the beautiful song. As Jenny’s first surprise, there was another cake brought out to the table, but the doctor called it a pie, which made her giggle and laugh.
“You’ll like this,” Zane said to her. “I promise. It weights an astonishing twenty-five pounds. ‘Tis a groom’s cake, but it’s rather in your honor. My cook found this old Lexington recipe amongst her collection. It has dried figs, dates, raisins, orange and lemon peel, mixed fruit, warm spices, candied cherries, and chopped pecans. It’s all soaked in the finest Kentucky bourbon.”
She laughed and nodded with a wide smile, familiar with Kentucky fruit cakes. Now she understood why she’d recognized the scent and its appearance, though she was accustomed to seeing much smaller ones. “’Tis how Mama shipped cake at Christmas to my father when he was on the front. The bourbon kept it from drying out.”
Zane smiled and leaned toward her after they’d cut the first slice of this cake, too. When they finished cutting the cake and the waltz drew to its end amidst applause, a violinist, cellist, and flutist entered the conservatory with their instruments and took their place beside the pianist. Following them, a harpist entered behind two of Zane’s employees carrying the instrument. Someone else carried in stands for their sheet music. This caused a stir amongst the onlookers. When they were assembled and ready to play, a hush fell over the conservatory. All of this caused Jenny to cover her open mouth in delight, smothering her gasp. The pianist had joined them to assist in turning the pages of the sheet music. Poised, the harpist struck the first note, a violinist joining on the second note, and they began to play a romantic ballad Jenny recognized to be a dramatic waltz by Franz Schubert, “Serenade.”
She recovered quickly at this pleasant surprise. “Zane, you shouldn’t have. You’re spoiling me, and our guests. Where are these talented musicians from? How did you arrange this?”
“You deserve it, sparkle of my eye. They’re friends of mine from the Minneapolis and St. Paul area. A telegram or two and a short train ride, they have materialized as a wedding gift to us,” he said, appearing to observe her closely, her foot tapping gently on the floor.
“Dance with me,” he whispered. He pulled her to a wide span of floor space near the center of the conservatory with orchids, cherry trees, lilies, sweet pea, and hyacinths blooming around them. She did not protest as dancing was one of her favorite things to do. They stood facing each other. He bowed as she curtseyed to him, all of the guests gathering around to watch the couple.
They each stepped forward in time with the music on a crescendo, his left shoulder meeting hers. Her arm stretched above and over her veil, meeting his extended arm until their fingertips touched. They paused, their arms returning elegantly to their sides. Then they turned away from each other, circling around to the exact same position where their shoulders met again. Next, they turned the other way and circled around, until their shoulders met a third time. They stepped back and turned to face each other. Then they stepped forward and he pulled her close by encircling her waist with one arm, taking her other hand. Two steps forward, three steps to the right, another two steps farther right as they circled around and around. He released her waist, twirling her slowly away from him, and then back toward him, all while he held her hand in his extended arm. Next, he clasped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. His hand rested in the small of her back, firmly guiding her steps with his other outstretched arm, their hands clasped together. Such a romantic dance, their eyes locked on each other as if they were the only two in the room, all others momentarily forgotten.
They danced like butterflies, hummingbirds, instinctively, gliding like swans floating over a pond. They’d had no practice, but where he led, she followed. He pulled her close again, and spun her around slowly. They danced every step in perfect time to the waltz with no difficulty whatsoever. Even the footmen and maids paused from serving slices of cake and fluted glasses of cider to observe the happy, smiling couple. One could catch a glimpse of the cook and her kitchen staff peering into the conservatory so as not to miss this sublime moment. The harpist’s hands plucked chords in a steady rhythm, the violinists and cellists playing the serenade in perfect pitch, making their bows skate on the strings of their instruments while the couple matched their intensity and tempo.
When the song was done, Jenny curtseyed to Zane, and he bowed to her, the guests clapping, whistling, toasting, and cheering. A few folks tapped their fluted glasses with the tips of their cake forks creating a pleasant, light clanging as a sign of their well wishes. Then her new husband took her hand, whisking her away to the side of th
e conservatory, asking, “How was that for a first dance?” It was obvious he was only concerned with attending to her every desire, never leaving her side for an instant.
“Amazing,” she smiled, her knees weak from the way he romanced her. “Unforgettable...the most memorable dance I have ever had.” She was breathless, her heart beating rapidly, yet somehow calm from the peaceful, intense serenade. “I-I h-had no idea we would dance so well together,” she stammered, stunned by the way she had responded to his lead.
“Nor I,” he said, his voice soft as he clasped her hand. They were lost in each other’s gaze for a few seconds as the chatter of their guests echoed through the conservatory.
When both cakes had been served, she observed his footmen began circulating among the guests with trays of hors d’oeuvres. Zane noticed her alarm. “If you’re worried about the expense, please don’t. My family has wealth to be spent and not hoarded. I hope you don’t mind. With all of the townsfolk as guests, I asked my kitchen staff to prepare a few specialty items this morning, and the cook gladly obliged saying she’d had some ideas ready, just in case. There’s yet another surprise.”
“What, pray tell, is that?” She looked around, wondering what else he’d planned, noticing the extra vases of purple flowers scattered throughout the room—yet another surprise. Then she spotted a chamber orchestra entering the room, a long line of about thirty musicians, chairs, and instruments setting up in an area of the conservatory near the beautiful piano.
“More dancing and music?” She clapped, happy to see this surprise as he nodded while she counted the musicians and the wonderful variety of instruments they’d brought to play. She even spotted a banjo player among them.
They soon started tuning their instruments, and then their director announced they would warm up by playing the “Radetzky March” by Johann Strauss, causing guests to clap with glee and whistle, quickly choosing up partners.
She smiled up at Zane as someone brought them pieces of their cake to taste, giddy with happiness about how their beautiful day had turned out so far. “I am very pleased by these extra surprises and touches to our special day, Dr. Beckham. You have excellent taste, and I don’t have any idea how you managed to accomplish all of this in such a short time. I don’t mind these surprises at all, as long as we are still having our private dinner on the terrace later.”
“We are,” he assured her as a footman offered them saucers of cucumber sandwiches with chicken salad accompanied by tiny cold ham cakes served on soda crackers. These were garnished with sprigs of fresh parsley and slices of olives. While Zane chose two saucers for them, the band played the march with great gusto. Half the town was dancing, the other half clapping, eating, and drinking the refreshing cider from their fluted glasses. Ladies dancing held onto their skirts and swished them around, sashaying forward three or four steps, then back the same, then forward again. Then they turned, clasped arms with their partners, twirled around, returned to their spots, and marched forward three steps again. It was a fun dance, and everyone was clapping, stomping, or dancing. One of the children danced in a corner with General Custer causing a number of chuckles, attracting some attention.
“I had no idea Custer could dance,” she said to Zane, pointing out the chimpanzee’s latest activity.
Zane laughed, his eyes lighting up. “Nor did I.” Jenny could see it pleased him to see the children enjoying the companionship of the chimpanzee.
There was a burst of clapping and cheering when the joyful, fun song came to an end. Then the director announced another waltz, encouraging townsfolk to choose their partners. Giddy with excitement from the march, guests poured into the center of the conservatory by the time the violinists and flutists played the first crescendo for “The Danube Waltz.”
At this point, Jenny noticed one of the parlor maids whisking General Custer and Leo Tolstoy away so the excitement wouldn’t cause them to misbehave, and likely to honor her request about not having the pets around for meals. By this time, Zane’s household employees were busy bringing out many trays of the appetizing treats. She’d have to remember to thank him later for making sure the pets were being cared for properly, but at least they’d been included for part of their special day. She turned her attention back to marvel at the French horns and the fine musicians as her husband encouraged her to try another sample of food on her saucer.
She tasted some of the little appetizing treats and nodded, approving. “These are delicious.”
“I hoped you would like them.” Zane smiled as another footman offered them a saucer with pickled herring slices wrapped around chunks of onion. This was served with a mustard and dill sauce. The cook had put a bit of corn relish on top of each slice of herring, giving it a colorful, zesty appeal. Several pickle slices and assorted pickled vegetables were placed on the side of this appetizer.
They had barely finished tasting the pickled herring when Zane’s butler, Mr. Merriweather, brought them one of her husband’s favorites, a saucer of oysters, announcing them as served with mignonette sauce.
“What is mignonette sauce?” she asked her handsome blond husband when the butler moved along to serve others in the crowd as they tasted these, too. “It looks delicious.”
Zane placed his arm around her waist as he held his saucer with his other hand. “The first time I tasted it was in Paris. Up until then, I’d always tasted oysters with salt or lemon juice, but this is a sauce made from minced shallots, cracked pepper, cloves, a bit of brown sugar, and vinegar.” He offered her one first, waiting until she’d tasted it. “Do you like it?”
She nodded vigorously with a wide smile. “Oh, I do, Zane, I do. I think I may have another if we can catch one of these footmen.” He chuckled, amused with her as all of the footmen appeared busy tending to their guests, but eventually one returned and offered them more oysters. Looking around, she could see their guests were enjoying the food and dancing as much as they were.
No sooner had they finished their oysters while the Blue Danube Waltz finished than the band announced another march. “Look darling, they’re calling for us to join them for the Grand March. Shall we?” she asked, eager to join the festivities as Lottie and Caleb motioned them over.
He nodded, hurrying to finish his last oyster, and soon they were whirling around to the march, then another waltz, a polka, a quadrille, and then everyone’s favorite final dance, the Virginia reel. For this, the banjo joined in and she felt as if she were at home in Kentucky again. They’d danced to every song until they were flushed and laughing with joy. The guests clapped, stomped, and danced, happy to celebrate well into the early evening. The photographer captured a number of pictures, and several of them between dances. Zane had thought of everything. She was deeply appreciative, since her mind had been preoccupied with so many other concerns and adapting to her new environment. Her husband had given her a wedding as fine as any traditional Kentucky wedding or a fancy ball, much to her delight.
They mingled with their guests while the band began to pack away their instruments, and then the bride and groom lined up with the servants in a receiving line near the doors to thank guests for coming. As the townsfolk came through the line to offer congratulations, the conservatory emptied. It was then they realized they had a gift table piled high with gifts from the good people of Pelican Rapids.
Zane and Jenny were finally left alone together at Orange Blossom Manor to enjoy a private meal by the river on the terrace as they’d planned. First, they collapsed onto a bench beneath an exotic palm where they recovered. It had been a whirlwind celebration to remember for the rest of their lives. Then he drew her into a long, tender kiss. After a little more kissing, someone announced their meal was ready.
“I’m famished. All of that dancing seems to have worked up my appetite,” she admitted.
“Good, and me too,” he agreed, leading her through a set of French doors onto the terrace where a linen-covered, garden table awaited them as the sun began to sink over the river in t
he distant horizon.
Flames to several tapers in a candelabra flickered, and a vase of purple flowers as a centerpiece made her realize once again how many details Zane had organized in the short time prior to his tiger chase. She wondered if he’d put together some of the arrangements before her arrival from Kentucky. He’d certainly gone above and beyond, yet he’d been able to keep things fairly simple and elegant, as she’d preferred. The man was an enigma. He left her dazed in a state of perpetual wonder. She had a feeling the rest of their marriage would be filled with surreal, stunning, mind-numbing events and travels as they created memories together. The Lord had certainly rewarded her hard work and faithfulness in helping Mama hold Blue Violet together during the challenging years of not having Pa around.
Looking at her plate, she surveyed the feast before sitting down. “Fried chicken, mashed sweet potatoes, country gravy, cucumber tomato salad, cole slaw, buttered string beans, lima beans, pickled okra, and roasted honey carrots...all of my favorites! A feast fit for a king...” She continued to eye the traditional southern fare heaped on their china plates as her husband slid the chair out for her. She sat down, smoothing her satin gown while he came around the table to join her. “It looks so good.”
He nodded. “It does, doesn’t it? I intend to eat every bite. Let’s pray.” Zane clasped her hand. Then he led them in their first prayer as husband and wife. Bowing their heads, Jenny thanked the Lord from her heart. She couldn’t have dreamt of a more perfect day, except for wishing her family had been present. She’d soon write to her sisters and parents, sharing the memorable details. Seeing how some folks struggled to make ends meet, she understood why her mother wished to see her five daughters matched well, even if it meant sending them away. However, she had a feeling her parents would soon visit to see Zane’s splendid mansion and his unusual menagerie—now their mansion and menagerie.
