The Wedding Dress

by Mary O'Donnell

  The bride was standing to the left of her new husband, and slightly behind him, to show the full length of her white wedding gown. Her hair and eyes appeared to be the same dark color as the child’s in the other photograph. Her hair was arranged on top of her head, and a veil that looked like it was made of organdy covered her from the top of her head, over her shoulders, and down her back to her knees. In her hands, she held a massive bouquet of formally arranged white roses. Her expression was serious, but there was a hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth, and her eyes gazed at the camera as if looking into the future, full of confidence and hope.

  Annie was unconsciously holding her breath. She looked up from the woman in the photograph to the woman in the second painting. Not only was it the same face, it was the same wedding dress. The very same dress Annie had found in the attic. She was sure of it. It had the same high collar, the puffy sleeves with long cuffs, the fitted waist, the lower ruffle around the hem. But, like the second painting, there was no crochet—not around the neck, nor on the cuffs. The bride wasn’t wearing gloves, and the veil was completely different.

  Annie looked up at Andrew. He was watching her reaction as she was studying the photographs. Annie asked him, “Is this Amanda and Captain Grey?”

  “Yes, it is,” he answered.

  “And is this the same wedding dress that I found in the attic?” she asked.

  “I believe so.”

  Ian had come to stand next to Annie, and she handed the photographs to him so he could see them as well, while Annie tried to make sense of all the information with which she was being bombarded.

  “Who is the baby in the photograph?” asked Annie.

  “That is Lydia Grey, the only child of Amanda and Zacharias; she was born in 1898,” replied Andrew.

  “How … I mean, where did you find these pictures?” Annie asked Andrew.

  He paused for moment, seeming to consider if he wanted to reveal his sources.

  “I didn’t find them actually. I borrowed them … from my oldest sister,” he answered. “They were given to her by our father, who had received them from his mother before she died at the age of 92.”

  “And how did your father’s mother come to have the photographs?” asked Annie.

  “They were a gift from her parents. My grandmother’s maiden name was Lydia Grey; Amanda and Zacharias Grey were my great-grandparents.”

  15

  Annie was shocked into silence for a moment, and Ian seemed to be the same. Annie’s mind began to race with things she wanted to ask Andrew, but then she noticed that he had grabbed hold of the edge of the table to steady himself. She’d been so enrapt looking at the paintings and the photographs that she’d forgotten that he was injured.

  “I have a million questions, Andrew, but we need to get you to Maplehurst so you can rest now.” She looked at Ian and could tell that he was concerned too. The three of them went back down the stairs, Ian first, in case Andrew started to falter. When they got to the inn, Annie dropped Andrew off at the front entrance and went to park his car in the inn’s parking lot while Ian parked out front and went inside with Andrew to make sure he made it to his room. Annie waited by Ian’s car until he came back out to let her in.

  “Do you think it’s all right for him to be here alone?” asked Annie. “Maybe he should have stayed at Grey Gables.”

  “I think he’s all right, Annie,” answered Ian. “I think he’s just exhausted. The doctor gave him the all clear. A good night’s sleep is what we all need, I think. What a day! Let’s get you home.”

  After Ian saw Annie to the door at Grey Gables, she walked in to find the house dark and quiet. In the living room she looked over the edge of the sofa to find Alice sound asleep. She was lying on her back, covered with an afghan and Boots was curled up on her tummy. It seemed unnecessary to wake her, so Annie wrote a note and left it where Alice was bound to see it if she woke up—on top of her project bag—and went upstairs to get ready for bed herself. She’d forgotten to eat any dinner, but she was too tired to worry about it.

  Her dreams that night were full of the events from the day—helping Dervla into the wedding dress, the drive along the coast with Ian, the fight in the front yard, seeing Andrew’s battered face, and watching Tony walk away from Grey Gables … these were interwoven with the images from Andrew’s paintings, and the faces of the people in the photographs he had shown her. She heard a woman’s voice saying the words, “Dear Father in Heaven, please hear my prayer …”

  She woke with a start, and the sun was streaming through the window. Boots had jumped on the bed and was standing on her chest, her face nuzzling Annie’s chin. Part of Annie felt like scolding the chubby cat, but instead she scratched Boots’s ears and talked to her in a soothing voice, assuring her that breakfast would be forthcoming as soon as Annie could pull herself out of bed.

  Out in the hallway, the house still sounded quiet, so Annie tiptoed to the stairs, but stepped on the same floorboard that always creaked at the top of the stairs, and which everyone who went up and down the stairs seemed to hit without fail. Once she made it to the bottom of the stairs she tiptoed into the living room and was just about to peek over the sofa to see if Alice was still there.

  “Good morning, sleepyhead!”

  Annie jumped and turned around to see Alice standing in the hallway, smiling, holding a glass of orange juice in her hand.

  “Alice! You scared the bejeebers out of me! What are you doing sneaking around this time of the morning?” asked Annie.

  “Ummm … I wasn’t sneaking … I heard the upstairs floorboard creak and came out of the kitchen to find you tiptoeing into the living room. That looked pretty sneaky to me.”

  “I was trying to be considerate,” said Annie.

  “How? By hovering over me like my mother, and then saying ‘Get up, Alice! Daylight’s a burnin’!’?” asked Alice with a laugh.

  Annie considered the idea. “No, that’s not my style. I prefer a good-morning song. I used to wake LeeAnn with it. She loved it when she was little, but it drove her crazy when she was a teenager. I must say it provided me with much amusement during those latter years,” she said with a grin.

  “Well, I am sorry that I missed that. Maybe next time,” said Alice.

  “Has there been any sign of Dervla this morning?” asked Annie.

  “Not yet. Why don’t we make some coffee, and you can fill me in about what happened yesterday. Honestly, if I hadn’t been so tired, I might never have gotten to sleep after hearing your sketchy outline of the day’s events. It was hard to concentrate on my cross-stitch, so I just put it away and lay down on the sofa under one of your afghans, and Boots joined me. The next thing I knew it was daylight. Found your note, by the way. Thanks for letting me know you were home.”

  “It was the least I could do. Thanks for being here. You really are the best,” said Annie. “Let’s go make that coffee.” She felt Boots winding between her ankles. “And feed Boots,” she added.

  Alice wanted to know every detail; Annie started with Saturday morning and told her everything up to the point where she came home that evening, including the revelation that Andrew Gareth was the great-grandson of the very same Captain Grey who had built Grey Gables.

  “What did you do with the engagement ring you found?” asked Alice.

  “Oh, I put it in the library on the shelf,” Annie said.

  “What are you going to do with it?”

  “The only thing I can do really—I’ll walk over to Wedgewood this afternoon and give it to Tony, unless he comes over here first. I don’t want Dervla to see it, or to know about it until he shows it to her, when he’s down on one knee, asking her to marry him.”

  “Do you think that’s still going to happen?” asked Alice.

  “I don’t know. I really don’t understand what happened yesterday. It was like Tony was primed for a confrontation,” said Annie.

  “It might have been Gwen’s doing, you know. She said that s
he and John were trying to talk Tony out of the marriage.”

  “I just can’t imagine what she could have told him that would elicit so much anger—especially since it was directed at Andrew.” Annie sighed and said, “I dread going over there. I hope Tony’s settled down. More than that, I hope he’ll come here to apologize to Dervla.”

  Just then, they both heard the telltale creak of the upstairs floorboard. Annie went out into the hall just as Dervla was about halfway down the steps. Trying to sound somewhat cheery, she said, “Good morning, Dervla! I hope you slept well.” One look at her face told the story; Annie doubted that Dervla had slept at all. “Come and join us in the kitchen. Alice is here, and we have coffee, and I’m sure we can rustle up something to go with it.”

  “Thanks, Annie. That would be nice.”

  Dervla sat down at the kitchen table with a big mug of coffee while Annie and Alice fussed about making breakfast and ended up deciding that pancakes were called for. Alice was the expert, so she worked on that while Annie fried some bacon and warmed the syrup. It was American-style comfort food—Annie hoped it agreed with Dervla’s Irish palate.

  Dervla did eat a little, but Annie thought it might have been more to be polite than out of any real appetite. When they had finished eating, Dervla said, “I have a favor to ask, Annie. I was wondering if you could take me up to Boothbay Harbor for mass this morning. I think it’s the closest Catholic Church—at least that’s where Tony took me last week.” At the mention of his name, her eyes looked wet with tears, but none fell.

  “Of course,” said Annie. “I’ve heard that the church there is one of the prettiest around. If you don’t mind, I’ll join you for the service. I’ve only been in a Catholic Church once before, and that was for a friend’s wedding.”

  “If it’s all right,” said Alice, “I’ll join you too. I just need to run home to shower and change. How soon do we need to leave?”

  Dervla had the bulletin from the previous week and checked the time for the service. Figuring in the time they needed to get there, they decided to leave the dishes in the sink and start getting ready right away.

  Thirty minutes later, in what they were certain was some sort of record, they were in Annie’s Malibu and headed down the road. Looking at the map, Alice, the navigator, said they could’ve gotten there faster by boat, but since they didn’t have one, she thought they would make it just in time. Annie and Alice tried to keep a light conversation going, avoiding anything to do with Tony or wedding dresses. Dervla sat in the backseat and seemed to be listening, but said very little.

  They did make it just in time, and sat near the back. It was a beautiful chapel, located near the water. Many parts of the service were different from what Annie was used to, but the creed was similar, and she recognized a couple of the hymns that they sang. The readings from the Bible always spoke to her at her home church, and it was no different here. The priest’s homily was short and to the point; she preferred Reverend Wallace’s sermons, but she still appreciated the message. She joined in the prayers for those in need, and when the priest said, “Peace be with you,” she joined in with the congregational reply, “and also with you.” She and Alice stayed in their seats when Dervla went up front for Holy Communion, but other than that Annie found that she could worship there as well as anywhere. Annie remembered as a teenager that Gram had told her—the purpose of church is to worship and honor God, not just to visit with your friends. Annie was glad to blend her voice with others for that purpose, even if they had a few different ideas than she did. She was sure that was true even in her own church.

  On the way home, Dervla’s spirits seemed improved, and she joined in the conversation more readily than she had earlier. When they were almost back to Grey Gables, she said, “Thanks for taking me to church today. And thank you for your friendship. It’s been wonderful to be here and to get to know you.” She paused for a moment before continuing. “I … I’ve made a decision. I thought about it all night, but going to church today helped me to be at peace with it. I’m going to go back to Ireland. It’s my home, … and I think that Tony has changed his mind about me.”

  She stopped talking as her voice started to break a bit.

  “What about you?” asked Annie. “Have you changed your mind about him?”

  Dervla didn’t speak for a moment, and Annie could see in the rearview mirror that she was holding back tears. “No,” she said quietly, “I haven’t changed my mind. Remember when we talked last week about my mother, and how she made sure I memorized poetry?”

  “Yes,” Annie said, “I remember. We said it was like a gift, that the words would come to us when we needed wisdom.”

  “Well, there’s a sonnet by Shakespeare that goes in part like this:

  ‘Let me not to the marriage of true minds

  Admit impediments. Love is not love

  Which alters when it alteration finds,

  Or bends with the remover to remove:

  O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark

  That looks on tempests and is never shaken.’”

  “That’s beautiful, Dervla,” said Alice. “I’ve never heard that before.”

  “Well, that’s how I feel about Tony. I love him, and nothing will change that. I’m not saying that it’s not ever going to work out, but … I think he needs time, and his family … at least part of his family … needs time. His parents may never accept me, but my being here is no good if it drives him to behave as he did yesterday. He’s too good to be like that. I know him. And I don’t want to be the cause of turning him into a jealous, angry man. It would break my heart to see that, and I won’t do it.”

  * * * *

  By late in the afternoon, there had been no sign of Tony. Dervla was on Annie’s laptop, using the Internet to look for an economical flight back to Ireland, so Annie decided it was time to take the engagement ring to Wedgewood and give it back to Tony. Only saying to Dervla that she was going out for a walk, Annie put the small box in her pocket and set out, walking up Ocean Drive to the Palmers’ house.

  She wasn’t sure if she should go to the back door she had entered the last time she was at Wedgewood, when Tony and Dervla had first arrived, or go to the front. She decided the front door was more appropriate on this occasion.

  She walked up the concrete walkway, edged on either side with rows of red-orange–flowering nasturtiums, to the front door. She rang the bell and waited a few moments; Gwen appeared at the door. Annie hadn’t seen her since the last Hook and Needle Club meeting. She knew that Mary Beth had talked to Gwen and told her that they were going ahead with the shower—the shower!—Annie had completely forgotten about that. What were they going to do now? She’d have to call the other members of the club when she got home, or maybe she could wait until the meeting on Tuesday; it couldn’t make much difference now—she was sure the others would have already started on their projects too.

  Gwen’s manner was strange—not friendly, but not unfriendly either. Annie wasn’t sure how to read her, so she just tried to keep a normal tone. “Hi, Gwen. Is Tony at home? I have something I need to return to him.”

  Gwen looked slightly uncomfortable. “He’s not here. He left yesterday. I don’t know where he is.”

  “He left? Without even saying goodbye to Dervla or apologizing?” asked Annie, her voice rising in tone as she spoke.

  Gwen looked embarrassed. “Please come in, Annie. I think we need to talk. I don’t really know what happened, but whatever it was it … it may have been my fault.”

  Annie went into the front room, and she and Gwen sat facing each other on the sofa. It appeared that Gwen was alone. “John went to play golf this afternoon. He won’t be home for a little while yet. Please tell me what happened at Grey Gables yesterday. Tony was angry when he left here, and he came back a very short time afterward. He didn’t even come in the house to say goodbye—he just got in his car and left. I had looked out the window just in time to see him as he backed the car out of the drive
way.”

  Annie explained, as much as she knew, the events that transpired on Saturday afternoon. When she told Gwen how Andrew had been injured, and that Ian had taken him to the hospital, she was horrified.

  “Oh, Annie! What have I done?” said Gwen.

  Annie was puzzled about how it could have been Gwen’s fault; she asked her quietly, “What did you do, Gwen?”

  “I know it was wrong, but I was trying to put Dervla in a … let’s say, a less favorable light. I told myself that I was doing it for Tony’s own good.” She paused, looking into Annie’s face to see if she understood, but Annie couldn’t find it in her to approve of Gwen’s reasoning.

  Gwen continued, “I saw her, Dervla, with that man who’s been to your house—Tony told me he was an artist—out in the yard, and they looked rather chummy, I thought, and then Peggy told me that she’d seen you and Dervla sitting with Ian and the artist at The Cup & Saucer.” She paused again and looked down at her hands. “Tony came home early from Boston on Saturday. He’s accepted a really good job there, and was excited about it and was going to walk over to Grey Gables to tell Dervla. He showed me an engagement ring he bought for her, and said there was no reason to delay the wedding now. I was desperate to stop him. I … I told Tony that Dervla had been seen out different places with that man while he was gone. I may have … exaggerated a little bit … and I didn’t mention that you and Ian were with them at The Cup & Saucer.”

  “Gwen! How could you do such a thing?” Annie was truly shocked.

  Gwen started to cry. “I don’t know why I did it. He’s my youngest—my boy—I just couldn’t bear to see him married to a girl like that.”