White Lace and Promises

by Debbie Macomber

  From all the commotion going on outside the dressing room, Maggie realized the guests were beginning to arrive. Nerves attacked her stomach. This wasn’t the first time she’d been in a wedding party, but it was the most elaborate wedding to date. She pressed a calming hand to her abdomen and exhaled slowly.

  “Nervous?” Janelle whispered.

  Maggie nodded. “What about you?”

  “I’m terrified,” she admitted freely. “Right now I wish Steve and I had eloped instead of going through all this.” She released her breath in a slow, drawn-out sigh. “I’m convinced that halfway through the ceremony my veil’s going to slip or I’ll faint, or something equally disastrous.”

  “You won’t,” Maggie returned confidently. “I promise. Right now everything’s overwhelming, but you won’t regret a minute of this in the years to come.”

  “I suppose not,” Janelle agreed. “This marriage is forever, and I want everything right.”

  “I’d want everything like this, too.” Maggie spoke without thinking and realized that when and if she ever married, she wanted it to be exactly this way. She yearned for a flowing white dress with a long train and lifetime friends to stand with her.

  Someone knocked on the door and, like an organized row of ducklings, the wedding party was led into the vestibule. Organ music vibrated through the church and the first bridesmaid, her hands clasping a bouquet of pink hyacinths, stepped forward with a tall usher at her side.

  Maggie watched her progress and knew again that someday she wanted to stand in the back of a church and look out over the seated guests who had come to share her moment of joy. And like Janelle, Maggie longed to feel all the love that was waiting for her as she slowly walked to the man with whom she would share her life. And when she repeated her vows before God and those most important in her life she would feel, as Janelle did, that her marriage was meant to last for all time.

  When it was her turn to step onto the trail of white linen that ran the length of the wide aisle, Maggie held her chin high, the adrenaline pumping through her blood. Her smile was natural, not forced. Mentally, she thanked Glenn for that, and briefly allowed her gaze to seek him out at the front of the church. What she found nearly caused her to pause in midstep. Glenn was standing with Steve at the side of the altar and looking at her with such a wondrous gaze that her heart lodged in her throat. This all-encompassing wonder was what Maggie had expected to see in Steve’s eyes when he first viewed Janelle. A look so tender, it should be reserved for the bride and groom. The moment stretched out until Maggie was convinced everyone in the church had turned to see what was keeping her. By sheer force of will she continued with short steps toward the front of the church. Every resounding note of the organ brought her closer to Glenn. She felt a throb of excitement as the faces of people she’d known all her life turned to watch her progress. A heady sensation enveloped her as she imagined it was she who was the bride, she who would speak her vows, she who had found her soul mate. Until that moment, Maggie hadn’t realized how much she yearned for the very things she had tried to escape in life, how much she was missing by hiding in her gilded cage, behind her money.

  As they’d practiced the night before, Maggie moved to the left and waited for Janelle and Steve to meet at center front. At that point, she would join her friend and stand at Janelle’s side. With the organ music pulsating in her ear, Maggie strained to catch Steve’s look when he first glimpsed Janelle. She turned her head slightly and paused. Her gaze refused to move beyond Glenn, standing with Steve near the front of the altar. Even when Janelle placed her hand in Steve’s, Maggie couldn’t tear her eyes from Glenn. The pastor moved to the front of the church and the four gathered before him. Together, they lifted their faces to the man of God who had come to unite Steve and Janelle.

  The sensations that came at Glenn were equally disturbing. The minute Maggie had started down the aisle it had taken everything within him not to step away from Steve, meet her, and take her in his arms. He had never experienced any sensation more strongly. He wanted to hold her, protect her, bring the shine back to her eyes, and teach her to trust again. When she had met him at the airport, he’d been struck by how lovely she’d become. Now he recognized her vulnerability, and she was breathtaking. He had never seen a more beautiful woman. She was everything he’d ever wanted—warm, vibrant, alive, and standing so close that all he had to do was reach out and touch her. He felt like a blind man who had miraculously and unexpectedly been gifted with sight. Maggie needed him. Charleston, with all its painful memories, lay on the other side of the world.

  “Dearly beloved, we are called here today to witness the vows between Janelle and Stephen.”

  The rush of emotion that assaulted Maggie was unlike anything she’d ever known. She couldn’t keep her eyes off Glenn, who seemed to magnetically compel her gaze to meet his. Their eyes locked and held as the pastor continued speaking. There was no exchange of smiles, no winks, nothing cute or frivolous, but a solemn mood that made that instant, that moment, the most monumental of their lives. Maggie felt a breathless urgency come over her, and an emotion so powerful, so real, that it brought brimming tears that filled her vision. In order to keep her makeup from streaking, she held one finger under each eye a hand at a time and took in several deep breaths to forestall the ready flow. The void, the emptiness in her life, wasn’t entirely due to her money. What she needed was someone to love and who would love her. Desperately, Maggie realized how much she wanted to be needed. Several seconds passed before she regained her composure. The tightening lessened in her chest, and she breathed freely once again.

  When the pastor asked Steve and Janelle to repeat their vows, Maggie’s gaze was again drawn to Glenn’s. He didn’t speak, nor did Maggie, but together, in unison, each syllable, each word, was repeated in their hearts as they issued the same vows as their friends. When the pastor pronounced them man and wife, Maggie raised stricken eyes to the man of God who had uttered the words, needing the reassurance about whom he had meant. It was as if he had been speaking to Glenn and her, as well, and as if the formal pronouncement included them.

  The organ burst into the traditional wedding march, and Steve and Janelle turned to face the congregation, their faces radiant with happiness. As the newly wedded couple moved down the aisle, Glenn’s arm reached for Maggie’s, prepared to escort her. At the touch of his hand at her elbow, Maggie felt a series of indescribable sensations race through her: wonder, surprise, joy. Their eyes met, and for the first time that day, he smiled. An incredible, dazzling smile that all but blinded her. Their march down the aisle, her arm on his elbow, added to the growing feeling that that day, that moment, was meant for them as well.

  Family and friends gathered outside the church doors, spilling onto the steps, giving hearty applause as Steve turned Janelle into his arms and kissed her. A festive mood reigned as Janelle was joyously hugged and Steve’s hand was pumped countless times. The photographer was busily snapping pictures, ordering the wedding party to pose one way and then another. For a brief second the fantasy faded enough to frighten Maggie. What game was Glenn playing with her? No. She’d seen the sincerity in his eyes. But pretending was dangerous, far too dangerous.

  “Are you all right?” Glenn whispered in her ear.

  Maggie didn’t have the opportunity to answer. As it was, she wasn’t sure how to respond. Under other circumstances, she would have asked him to drive her to the hospital emergency room. Her daydreams were overpowering reality. This wasn’t her wedding, nor was the man at her side her husband. She had no right to feel sensations like these.

  The next thing she knew, Glenn had disappeared. Maggie hardly had time to miss him when a shiny new Cadillac pulled to the curb. JUST MARRIED was painted on the back window. Glenn jumped out and opened both doors on the passenger side. Then, racing up the church stairs, he took Maggie by the hand and, following on the heels of Steve and Janelle, pulled her through a spray of rice and laughter as he whisked her toward t
he car.

  Amidst hoots and more laughter, Glenn helped her gather her full-length skirt inside the automobile before closing the door and running around the front to climb in beside her.

  Maggie was still breathless with laughter when he flashed her another of his dazzling smiles and started the engine. A sea of happy faces was gazing in at them. Turning her head to look out the side window, Maggie was greeted with the well-wishes of several boys and girls—children of their friends—standing on the sidewalk and waving with all their might. Glenn checked the rearview mirror and pulled into the steady flow of street traffic.

  “Maggie, it was just as wonderful as you claimed it would be,” Janelle said softly from the backseat.

  “Did you doubt?” Steve questioned, his voice thick with emotion.

  “I’ll have you know, Mr. Grant, that I nearly backed out of this wedding at the very last minute. The only thing that stopped me was Maggie. Somehow she convinced me everything was going to work out. And it did.”

  “Janelle, I hardly said anything,” Maggie countered, shocked by her friend’s admission.

  “You said just enough.”

  “I’m eternally grateful,” Steve murmured, and from the sounds coming from the backseat, he was showing Janelle just how grateful he was that she was his bride.

  Glenn’s hand reached for Maggie’s and squeezed it gently. “You look stunning.” He wanted to say so much more and discovered he couldn’t. For weeks he had dreaded the wedding and having to stand at the altar with his friend when it should have been his own wedding. The day had been completely unlike anything he’d expected, Maggie alone had made the difference.

  “You make a striking figure yourself,” she said, needing to place their conversation on an even keel.

  Glenn unfastened the top button of the starched white shirt and released the tie. “I feel like a penguin.”

  Laughter bubbled up in Maggie. She felt happy, really happy, for the first time in a long while. When Glenn held out his arms, she scooted across the seat so that they were as close as possible within the confines of the vehicle.

  The sounds of smothered giggles from the backseat assured Maggie that things were very fine indeed. They stopped at a light and Glenn’s gaze wandered to her for a brief, glittering second, then back to the road. “Thank you for today,” he said, just low enough for only her to hear. “You made our friends’ wedding the most special day of my life.”

  “I … felt the same way about you,” she whispered, wanting him to kiss her so badly she could almost taste his mouth over hers.

  “Maggie,” Janelle called from the backseat. “Will you check this veil? I can’t walk into the dinner with it all askew. People will know exactly what kind of man I married.”

  “Oh, they will, will they?” Steve said teasingly, and kissed her soundly.

  Maggie turned and glanced over her shoulder. “Everything looks fine. The veil’s not even crooked, although from the sound of things back there it should be inside out and backward.”

  “Maggie,” Steve said in a low and somewhat surprised tone as he studied her, “I expected Janelle’s mother to cry, even my own. But I was shocked to see you were the one with tears in your eyes.”

  “You were shocked?” she tossed back nonchalantly. “Believe me, they were just as much of a surprise to me. Tears were the last thing I expected.”

  “Count your blessings, you two,” Glenn said, tossing a glance over his shoulder. “Knowing Muffie, you should be grateful she didn’t burst into fits of hysterical laughter.” He glanced over to Maggie and leaned close and whispered. “Actually, they should thank me. It took everything in me not to break rank and reach for you.” Glenn hadn’t meant to tell her that, but those tears had nearly been his undoing. He had known when he’d seen her eyes bright with unshed tears that what was happening to him was affecting Maggie just as deeply. He had come so close to happiness once, and like a fool, he’d let it slip away. It wouldn’t happen again; he wouldn’t allow it.

  Everything was happening so quickly that Maggie didn’t have time to react. Glenn’s breath fanned her temple and a shiver of apprehension raced up her spine. They were playing a dangerous game. All that talk in the moonlight about the sanctity of marriage had affected their brain cells and they were daydreaming—no … pretending—that this moment, this happiness, this love, was theirs. Only it wasn’t, and Maggie had to give herself a hard mental shake to dislodge the illusion.

  A long string of cars followed closely behind as the other members of the wedding party caught up with the Cadillac. Watching Glenn weave in and out of traffic, Maggie was impressed with his driving skill. However, everything about Glenn had impressed her today. Fleetingly, she allowed her mind to wander to what would happen when he left on Monday. She didn’t want this weekend to be the end, but a beginning. He lived in Charleston, she in San Francisco. The whole country separated them, but they were only hours apart by plane and seconds by phone.

  When he turned and caught her studying him, Maggie guiltily shifted her attention out the side window. The way her heart was hammering, one would think she was the bride. She struggled for composure.

  Janelle’s family had rented a huge Victorian hall for the dinner and dance. Maggie had no idea that there was such a special place in San Francisco and was assessing the wraparound porch and second-floor veranda when the remainder of the wedding party disembarked from the long row of cars that paraded behind the Cadillac. Wordlessly, Glenn took her by the elbow and led her up the front stairs.

  Everything inside the huge hall was lushly decorated in antiques. Round tables with starched white tablecloths were set up to serve groups of eight. In the center of each table was a bowl of white gardenias. A winding stairway with a polished mahogany banister led to the dance floor upstairs.

  Being seated at the same table as Steve and Janelle added to the continuing illusion. Somehow Maggie made it through the main course of prime rib, wild rice, and tender asparagus spears. Her appetite was nonexistent, and every bite had the taste and the feel of cotton. Although Glenn was at her side, they didn’t speak, but the communication between them was louder than words. Twice she stopped herself from asking him what was happening to them, convinced he had no answers and the question would only confuse him further.

  When Janelle cut the wedding cake and hand-fed the first bite to Steve, the happy applause vibrated around the room. The sound of it helped shake Maggie from her musings, and she forced down another bite of her entrée. The caterers delivered the cake to the wedding guests with astonishing speed so that all the guests were served in a matter of minutes.

  Glenn’s eyes darkened thoughtfully as he dipped his fork into the white cake and paused to study Maggie. He prayed she wasn’t as confused as he. He didn’t know what was happening, but was powerless to change anything. He wasn’t even convinced he wanted anything different. It was as if they were in a protective bubble, cut off from the outside world. And although they sat in a room full of people, they were alone. Not knowing what made him do anything so crazy, Glenn lifted his fork to her mouth and offered Maggie the first sample of wedding cake. His eyes held her immobile as she opened her mouth and accepted his offering. Ever so lightly, he ran his thumb along her chin as his dark, penetrating eyes bored into hers. By the time she finished swallowing, Glenn’s hand was trembling, and he lowered it.

  Promptly, Maggie placed her clenched fingers in her lap. A few minutes later, she took a sip of champagne, her first that day, although she knew that enough was happening to her equilibrium without adding expensive champagne to wreak more damage.

  The first muted strains of a Vienna waltz drifted from the upstairs dance floor. Maggie took another sip of champagne before standing.

  Together, Steve and Janelle led their family and friends up the polished stairway to the dance floor.

  When he saw the bride and groom, the orchestra leader stepped forward and announced: “Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Mr. and Mrs. Steph
en Grant.”

  Steve took Janelle in his arms and swung his young bride around the room in wide, fanciful steps. Pausing briefly, he gestured to Glenn, who swung Maggie into his arms.

  Again, the announcer stepped to the microphone and introduced them as the maid of honor and best man. All the while, the soft music continued its soothing chords, and they were joined by each bridesmaid-and-usher couple until the entire wedding party was on the dance floor.

  As Glenn held Maggie in his arms, their feet made little more than tiny shuffling movements that gave the pretense of dancing. All the while, Glenn’s serious, dark eyes held Maggie’s. It was as though they were the only two in the room and the orchestra was playing solely for them. Try as she might, Maggie couldn’t pull her gaze away.

  “I’ve been wanting to do something from the moment I first saw you walk down the aisle.”

  “What?” she asked, surprised at how weak her voice sounded. She thought that if he didn’t kiss her soon she was going to die.

  Glenn glanced around him to the wide double doors that led to the veranda. He took her by the hand and led her through the crowd and out the curtained glass doors.

  Maggie walked to the edge of the veranda and curled her fingers over the railing. Dusk had already settled over the city and lights from the bay flickered in the distance. Glenn joined her and slipped his arms around her waist, burying his face in her hair. Turning her in his arms, he closed his eyes and touched his forehead to hers. He took in several breaths before speaking.

  “Are you feeling the same things I am?” he asked.

  “Yes.” Maggie’s heart was hammering so loud, she was convinced he’d hear it.

  “Is it the champagne?”

  “I had two sips.”

  “I didn’t have any,” he countered. “See?” He placed the palm of her hand over his heart so she could feel its quickened beat. “From the moment I saw you in the church it’s been like this.”