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Dwindle: Populations Crumble: Book 1

Page 19

by K. A. Gandy


  He stands also, and gives me a quick hug before wrapping up the last few strawberries. He walks me back to the dormitory, and we say our goodbyes until tomorrow. “Don’t eat these in the dress,” he jokes as he hands me the strawberries.

  “Really, you don’t think red juice and chocolate smears go well with white satin?” I tease back.

  He just shakes his head as he gives me one final wave and leaves to go try on his tux. I drag myself up the stairs and through the front door of the dormitory. The click of the latch has an odd finality to it. If all goes well, this will be my last night here, and then I’ll be a married woman, heading for my honeymoon. I shiver as the butterflies take flight in my stomach. Ready or not, I’m getting married tomorrow.

  Wedding Bell Blues

  The day dawns like any other. The sun peeks around my heavy curtains, and I could almost believe it’s just another day at the NLC—dates, gossiping girls, and riding Hercules. But, it’s not. Today is the day. The day my life changes again. The day I become Mrs. Sadie O’Roarke. Maybe Taylor-O’Roarke. Sadie Ann Taylor O’Roarke. It’s long, but it has a nice ring to it.

  I stretch, and right on cue the wind chimes of my alarm start to play. I guess it’s time to get up and do this thing, as Patrick put it yesterday. Sitting up on the side of the bed, I flick the alarm on my screen to turn it off. Before I can even make my way to the bathroom, there is a boisterous knock on the door. With a groan, I make my way over.

  “What is it with you people and visiting at the butt crack of dawn?” I grumble, not caring who’s out there.

  A surprised Charlotte stands on the other side, holding a steaming cup of hot cocoa, and a small box with a green velvet bow. “Uh, good morning Sadie,” she says cautiously. “This is the first time I’ve seen you before you’ve had a few minutes to get moving. Not much of a morning person?” she observes.

  “Not really. What’s up, Charlotte? Do you want to come in?” I give a vague gesture toward the room behind me, and she nods before stepping in.

  “I understand my instructions a little more this morning. Patrick told me to give you this,” she hands over the steaming mug, which is full of hot cocoa and floating marshmallows, “then wait five minutes and let you open this.” She waves the little box, but doesn’t hand it over.

  I take a sip and groan, happily this time. Chocolate goodness hits me like a wave. “He must have made this; it definitely didn’t come from a box,” I murmur, going back for a second sip.

  She smiles, “He seems like a very thoughtful guy. You take your time, and I’ll just wait over there.” She takes herself to my bench and sits down.

  I make my way into the bathroom, and go through my morning routine while sipping the delicious cocoa. Somewhere towards the last third of the cup, I’ve become better company than when poor Charlotte first arrived. I make my way out of the bathroom, teeth and hair brushed, and sit across from her in my desk chair. I drain the last precious sips of cocoa, and set down the mug.

  The smile she gives me is bright, despite the less-than-warm reception she received initially. “Feeling better? Ready for phase two?”

  “Yes, I’m sorry. I am really not a fan of mornings. Three in the afternoon is my jam,” I admit, feeling sheepish.

  Her laugh is light as she waves me off. “No problem, girl. Here’s your present.” Handing over the box, she leans back and scooches her hands under her legs.

  “Did he tell you what this is?” I ask, nervous to open it.

  “Nope, I’m as curious as you. I don’t think it’ll bite though, whatever it is.” She’s watching intently.

  I pull gently on the soft velvet ribbon, and it comes free in one smooth motion. Setting it aside, I lift the white lid off of the box, and find a gorgeous blue jeweled hair clip tucked inside. I pick it up, and Charlotte’s murmured “Oh” fades into the background. It’s lovely, and looks old. Intricate silver swirls cradle sparkling blue gemstones, in a pattern that reminds me of the swirling motions of deep water.

  I look down and see a small note folded and resting on the cushion underneath. I set the beautiful clip back in the box, and open the note. It’s scrawled in loose, manly script. Why do men write in all capitals? I muse before reading it.

  Sadie,

  Call me a romantic if you must, but this is my mother’s. She wore it in her hair on her wedding day. If you’re willing, I know it would thrill her if you’d wear it this afternoon. The day we met, I phoned her and asked if there was something she’d like to send me, and this is what she chose. She wanted me to tell you she can’t wait to meet you, and that it’s yours to keep as long as we share a last name. All that’s left is to ask one of the girls to loan you something for the ceremony.

  Can’t wait to meet you at the altar,

  Patrick

  P.S. Check under the cushion

  He called his mother the day we met? But that was before we were even matched, when I stumbled across him in the hallway! I hold the note tightly for a second, touched by his thoughtfulness in arranging this.

  “What does it say?” Charlotte is on the edge of her seat, but I can tell she’s tried very hard to let me have my moment. I pass her the note, and she lets out a gusty breath a moment later. “Oh my goodness gracious, does he have a brother? This is so romantic. The other girls are all going to be jealous!” She looks up, and I am just holding the clip, taking in all of the beautiful swirls.

  “What’s under the cushion?” her question snaps me out of my fascination, and I lift the edge of the cushion to see an antique silver coin. I lift it carefully and see the number 6 etched from the silver. She inches closer, and takes it in. “Oh, he’s thought of everything! It’s a sixpence, it’s supposed to go in your shoe.”

  Hot cocoa, sentimental gifts, and a romantic at heart. It’s official, I’m a goner. I tuck the gifts into my desk drawer, and spot the stack of letters for home I’d written last night.

  “Charlotte, would you mind dropping these in the mail for me?”

  “Of course not! I’ll take those over this afternoon,” she takes them with a gentle smile.

  We make our way over to the bride’s room to get our morning preparations underway. The sounds of Jenna’s dance music is already pouring out. I poke my head around the doorframe, and see everyone except Margaret huddled in the room around Faith, who is smiling from ear to ear. Jenna is pinning up her hair, and Leigh is painting on some pink lip color.

  “How’s it going in here?” I ask, and Elena squeals.

  “It’s about time, girl! Get your short butt in this chair pronto! Where have you been?”

  Charlotte answers before I have a chance, “Only being swept off her feet by Patrick.”

  Nell scolds me, “You’re not supposed to see him until the wedding!”

  I hold up both hands, “I didn’t! He used Charlotte as his messenger.”

  Charlotte recounts the tale as Elena and Nell go to work on my hair and face. After multiple love-struck sighs, they all agree that Patrick gets major brownie points.

  “You can pay him back later tonight!” Jenna cackles evilly, and I can feel myself blush the color of the leaves outside.

  “Oh, leave her alone.” Charlotte says lightly, and gives my shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

  I shoot her a grateful look, but keep my reservations to myself. I know that most of the girls have already gone a lot further than the few kisses I’ve shared with Patrick, but I’m not comfortable taking things any faster than we have. Luckily, he seems okay taking it slowly, too.

  The morning goes by in a blur of mascara and a cloud of hairspray. Elena finishes artfully arranging my thick chestnut hair into perfect curls, and fastens one side back with Patrick’s mother’s clip. A second round of oohs and ahhs erupt once that’s on display. I hurriedly eat a few bites of lunch when it’s delivered, and then it’s time for me to put on my dress. It took me forever last night to choose, and I will never admit to a soul that I tried on every single dress they delivered in
front of my full-length mirror. But when I saw this dress, I knew.

  The full skirt was layer upon layer of gossamer tulle, topped with sparkling floral crystals that shimmered with every movement. The bodice hugged tightly up to my collarbone, continuing the floral pattern. The back, however, plunged low and open. It was both daring and classic, and it fit me like a glove. Not too fancy, not too plain. It was exactly the dress I didn’t know I’d been imagining. Nell and Charlotte hold it up for me so I can step under, and then fasten the snap at the top which holds it together. I take off my fertility wristband, as today is the one day I’m allowed to remove it.

  I rub absentmindedly at the spot on my wrist, and turn to see Faith’s gorgeous crème gown. It’s lacy and vintage, with a higher hem at her knees that falls away to the floor behind her. It suits her, and I think Teddy will be thrilled when he sees her. She smiles at me, and I smile back at her. It feels like a dream, that we’re here, getting married together to people that we both actually like, and want to marry. The rest of the girls file out to put on their dresses, and Faith grabs our bouquets. Mine is a simple bundle of daisies, and hers is blush pink roses.

  “Are you nervous?” she asks.

  “A little,” I admit, “I’m trying not to be. How about you?”

  “No, not at all. I guess the benefit of the third time around is that you can see if a man is really genuine, or just telling you what you want to hear. If there’s one thing I know about Teddy Taylor, it’s that he’s as genuine as they come.”

  “That’s the truth. You sure that’s a good thing?” I joke, trying to ease my own nerves.

  “Absolutely. Come on, we’re supposed to go wait in the back of the dining hall.”

  “Wait, I thought for the outdoor venue we were supposed to wait in the sports center. That’s where I waited with Beth-Ann.”

  “Well, if we were getting married at the usual outdoor venue, you’d be right. But Teddy and Patrick have been sweet-talking the wedding-planning crew, and we’ve been given a special venue. Come on!” She walks out, knowing I’ll follow.

  Holding the bottom of my dress up so it doesn’t get grass stained, I hurry after her. I breeze through the now-familiar courtyard without a second glance. We make our way into the very same hallway where Patrick led us to escape our kidnapping attempt. The memory reminds me that while this has turned out far better than I’d hoped, it’s still not all rainbows and butterflies. I’m getting out of this with a man I won’t mind taking home to my family when the time comes, but not without a cost to so many women.

  I stand tall in the hallway, determined to do my part in fixing this broken system eventually. Faith is introspective as well, probably reliving her own memories of that night. A small eternity later, a familiar wedding planner pokes her head through the doorway.

  “Hi, girls. I’m Melinda! Are you ready to meet your handsome grooms?” She has a twinkle in her eye, and you can tell she enjoys her job, regardless of the circumstances surrounding the weddings she plans.

  "We are, Ms. Melinda. Lead the way!” Faith proclaims. She shuffles her bouquet into one hand, and reaches for mine with the other. I take her hand, and can’t help but think that for someone without a sister of her own, Faith is really good at being mine when I need her.

  We exit the door to find a long, freshly laid path of flower petals heading in the direction of the barn. The two of us follow Melinda, still hand-in-hand until we arrive at the stable yard. Right as we walk up, the traditional wedding march begins to play, and all of our new friends and their dates stand as we approach the aisle in the middle of the assembled chairs.

  Rounding the hedges, I catch my first glimpse of Patrick and Teddy standing at the end of the aisle waiting for us. Faith lets out a breath, and switches our hands so we’re linked at the elbow. Slowly, in time with the music, we make our way down the aisle. I can’t take my eyes off of Patrick, and it feels like he’s drinking me in. The smile on his face is slow, assured, and just so right. I feel like I’m walking on a cloud, as I make my way towards the new officiant standing with the men under a beautiful flower-bedecked arbor, right in front of the large barn entrance.

  When we arrive, Faith gives me one last squeeze before letting go of my arm and reaching for Teddy’s outstretched hands. I do the same, and Patrick’s warm hold grounds me to this moment. The officiant begins the usual spiel, but I’m so lost in Patrick’s beaming gaze that I don’t hear a word until he says my name.

  “Do you, Sadie, take Patrick to be your lawfully wedded husband?” he says.

  “I do,” I repeat quietly.

  “Do you, Patrick, take Sadie to be your lawfully wedded wife?” he asks.

  “I do,” Patrick’s voice is steady, resolute. He gives my fingers a squeeze, which I return.

  We repeat more vows, promising to honor, cherish, and care for each other. To be partners in love and in life. The words are beautiful, and I find that I fervently hope the marriage promises we are making today we are able to keep, despite how hard the world is going to try to separate us. Deep down, I want that beautiful longevity that my parents have worked so hard to show me. I want that with Patrick.

  Finally, the officiant says that the grooms may kiss their brides. Patrick slides one hand up my bare arm, and the other behind my neck. He leans in and brushes the softest of kisses against my lips, lingering there, begging to be deepened.

  After a moment he pulls back a hair, and whispers, “Later,” there against my lips. The look he gives me promises so much more when we’re alone.

  All of the girls and their dates stand and clap, as he announces us as new couples, and we make our way down the aisle. Right as we start down the aisle, Michael arrives at the end driving a white carriage pulled by none other than Twinkie and Doc.

  I turn to Patrick in surprise, “Did you do this? This is amazing!” I walk to the front and give the boys scratches under the chin before letting him help me into the carriage across from Teddy and Faith.

  “I thought you might like one last memory with the horses here before we have to go,” he says with a shrug.

  I can’t help but throw my arms around him in a huge hug. “Thank you, Patrick. You’ve really thought of everything today.” My hand floats up to touch the beautiful blue clip, and his eyes crinkle as he smiles.

  “My parents will love you, Sadie. And my mom will be thrilled that you love the clip.” He takes my hand in his.

  Teddy breaks the mood by asking, “So, how long do we have to stick around at this reception before we get out of here?” while waggling his eyebrows exaggeratedly at Faith.

  She whacks him on the arm, but laughs good naturedly.

  “Hey, we may all be married now, but you keep that to yourself. I don’t want any details, understand?” I give him my serious sister glare, and now it’s his turn to laugh.

  “You are too easy baby sister, you know that?” he says as he kicks my foot lightly under the edge of my gown.

  I just roll my eyes in response.

  Michael takes us on a slow loop around the property, and it’s the perfect way to say goodbye to the beautiful grounds. He drops us off at the front entrance to the main hall, where everyone is waiting at the long central banquet table for our arrival.

  They serve us delicious pasta ragù, which reminds me of my last date with Antonio, making pasta together. I make a mental note to try to make some for Patrick when we get to Mairmont.

  The dinner flies by, and there is an abundance of laughter and good natured ribbing amongst the couples. It almost feels like we’ve all known each other for our whole lives, instead of just over a month. It’s amazing how an experience like this, with all its ups and downs, can really bring a group together.

  Talk starts to turn to who will be tying the knot next, with Hector making big eyes at Elena. Nell has really relaxed around Atlas, and it’s nice to see her casually rest a hand on his forearm. She’s filled out a bit since we’ve been here, and she looks much more at ease. Charlot
te and Devonte are leaned in close to each other, whispering something. All in all, everyone remaining here seems happy, and that makes my heart light. Moments of unfettered joy are so rare; I breathe this one in to hold onto.

  Dinner draws to an end, and a staff member lets us know that our shuttle is ready to take us to our honeymoon destination whenever we’re ready. The four of us start to make our rounds, and we’re given several promises to see us again soon in Mairmont. Patrick holds my hand through it all, and it’s nice to have a partner for the next phase of this crazy path we’re on.

  We finally make it out to the hallway, and I can see the shuttle parked out front. There’s Todd the driver, already loading up our collection of bags. Before we can make it out the door, though, someone in a uniform approaches us.

  “I’m sorry to hold you up, but we need you in the program director’s office for a moment to sign your marriage license,” he says kindly.

  “What about Faith and Teddy? They’ve already headed outside to the shuttle,” I ask.

  “Oh, they signed theirs separately this morning. If you’ll follow me; it will only take a moment.” He leads us off down a side hallway that I’ve never been down.

  We arrive in a well-appointed office, and he holds the door for us. A man who I can only assume is the director is seated behind the desk, and he passes a folder with a single sheet of paper across to us with a pen. Patrick quickly signs, and then slides it over to me. I skim my eyes down the page looking for my name when I spot an issue.

  “Uhm, excuse me. This is incorrect. The last name is O’Roarke.” I point at the line, and slide the folder back across to the director for review.

  He raises his eyebrows as he takes in the document. He looks to Patrick and says, “I’ll give you two a moment.” He stands abruptly and walks out of the office.

  “Well, that was rude. Is he going to get us a new copy to sign?” I turn to Patrick, who is looking intently at the marriage license. I give him a playful poke with my elbow, “And what—are you in such a big hurry that you didn’t notice they got your name wrong? It says right there Patrick . . . Royce.”

 

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