“If you don’t like it, we can go pick out another one.”
“I love it,” Abbey managed to gasp, once her heart had returned to beating in a fairly normal pattern. “It’s beautiful!”
He slipped it on her finger, and for a moment they stood together, their gazes locked in a timeless embrace. “Now do I kiss her?” he asked over his shoulder to his grandmother.
“Now would be a good time,” Claire said, and before her eyes shut, Abbey caught a glimpse of Claire’s satisfied smile.
“I have a present for you too,” Abbey said at last. She handed her gift to Mike. “I was going to wait, but now I think this is the right time.”
Mike opened the framed picture and grinned. “I love it!” Then his eyes met hers. “Does this mean what I think it does?”
“I think I knew that you were my destiny when we were locked up together in that silly Candy Cane Calaboose. I thought I’d hate it, but deep inside me, I wanted it to go on and on.” Abbey gave him a tremulous smile. “Isn’t that funny? When I was locked up with you, I found my freedom.”
Her heart was no longer imprisoned in its cage of defiance. She was free now, in so many ways. The walls were down; the door was unlocked and open, ready to welcome love.
“Grandma,” Mike said at last, “you need to get healthy and stay that way. I think we have a wedding in our future!”
Claire wiggled her toes happily, and Abbey was sure she saw the frogs on the yellow fuzzy slippers smiling.
epilogue
The Word of Faith Community Church was packed. A gentle snow had fallen, but it did nothing to diminish the happiness of those gathered within. It was December twenty-fifth, and this was a wedding. There was little that people liked more than a Christmas wedding.
It had been a year since Abbey had accepted Mike’s proposal, and the days since then had flown by as if winged. The only change was that as the days passed, she loved him more.
The blessings in her life had grown and intensified since that amazing Christmas Eve. God continued to touch her life daily. She saw it in her work as well as her love. God did care for His own.
She’d gone back to college, preparing for the MBA she’d always wanted. Mike had come home one day with a brochure about distance education classes, and she’d signed up right away. They were perfect for her schedule.
After a period of relatively ineffective resistance, she’d answered the call to work with the Jeremiah Group. Her focus area was appearance, and she now advised the young women on the proper clothing to wear to work and how to find appropriate yet inexpensive apparel.
Mona had easily established herself as one of Abbey’s favorites. Her natural affinity for the elderly served her well at Golden Meadows. Mona had even started college with a nursing degree as her goal, and Abbey was as proud as a mother peacock. As matter of fact, the young woman was presiding over the cake table at the wedding reception.
“Your veil’s crooked.” Selma’s voice caught, and al-though Abbey saw the glimmer of tears in her friend’s eyes, she knew they were tears of happiness.
“I can’t go in with my veil crooked,” Abbey teased her gently. “People will talk.”
Selma sniffed back the threatening sobs. “They will anyway.”
“Honey?” Her mother’s hand caressed Abbey’s cheek. “The usher says it’s time to seat me, so I have to go. Abbey, I love you. Mike will be a good husband, I can tell.”
“Any last words of motherly advice?” Abbey asked shakily.
“Just love him. That’s it. Just love him.”
Her mother started to go, then turned back. “I think I need to modify that a bit. Love him simply. Don’t get carried away overanalyzing him. But also don’t forget that you are a child of God too. Be careful not to lose yourself.” She paused. “I didn’t know that when I first got married—or maybe I did, and I just ignored it—but it kept both Ed and me from having the best relationship we could, and that wasn’t fair to any of us, including you.”
Abbey saw tears pool in her mother’s eyes. “Mom, I understand. And it’s all right. Even when I was a teenager and fighting back against anything and everything, I still knew, in my heart, that there was love in our house.”
“And one more thing, Abbey. Always, always trust God. Again, your dad and I didn’t have that trust, and it made marriage just that much harder. But now we know, and life is better. I’m so happy to know you’re starting your married life with God as the head of your household.”
“Oh, Mom.” It was all that Abbey could manage.
Her mother laughed shakily. “Look at me. The wedding hasn’t even started, and already I’m a sodden mess. I need a handkerchief.”
“So do I.” Abbey confessed, feeling her emotions starting to crescendo. “We’d better get this show on the road,” she told her mother. “If I start crying now, I’ll have a drippy nose and swollen, red eyes by the time I get to the altar. Mike will turn and run.”
Her mother smiled mistily, gave her a quick kiss, and left to be seated in the sanctuary.
“Ready?” Brianna spoke to them from the door of the room where Selma and Abbey had dressed. “We’ve got a church full of people anxious to see you. Some of them are worried about getting back to Golden Meadows in time for the Christmas party there, so I think you’d better get moving before they mutiny.”
“All right. I’m ready. Nervous as a cat, but I’m ready.” An entire flock of butterflies seemed to have made their home in her stomach.
Selma smoothed her red velvet bridesmaid’s dress. “Next time, I get to be the bride, okay?”
“Okay. You’ve got to find your own fellow, though.”
Selma made a face. “I knew there was going to be a catch somewhere.”
Abbey enveloped Selma in one last hug. “I’m so happy,” she confided. “I think I could burst.”
“Well, don’t,” Selma said practically. “That’s a new dress you’ve got on, you know, and white stains like nobody’s business.”
Abbey left the room with Selma and joined the rest of the bridal party in the small area behind the sanctuary, which was decorated in red and white. She adjusted her bouquet, which, like those of the others in the bridal party, included tiny candy canes sprinkled among the red and white carnations.
She leaned down and kissed her matron of honor, whose wheelchair was festooned with garlands of red and white tinsel.
The music started, and the four women proceeded down the aisle.
I should remember this, Abbey thought as she pas-sed through the wedding guests. Their faces blurred, but she knew they were all smiling at her. I need to remember this always.
The minister was waiting for her at the altar. . .and so was Mike. He had never looked so tall, so capable, so trusting.
The minister began to speak the familiar words: “Dearly beloved, we are gathered. . .”
Her mind wandered back to the day the socks dropped through the grating, to the time of the blizzard, to the afternoon in the Candy Cane Calaboose.
“I do.”
She looked at Mike, and the world got smaller, the congregation vanished, and there were only the two of them.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
The world exploded with joy. The minister turned them to face the congregation. “I’d like to introduce to you Mr. and Mrs. Michael Tucker.”
The organ burst into glorious song, a collection of Christmas carols, and hand in hand, Mike and Abbey rushed back down the aisle and into the narthex.
“We’re married, Honey,” he said to her as he took her in his arms. “Now and forever.”
He bent to kiss her, and as she lifted her lips to meet his, the guests began to file out.
Claire was the first to get to them. Abbey leaned down to hug her, and the older woman beamed at her. “Weddings are so romantic, aren’t they?” she cooed. She blinked her eyelashes flirtatiously at her companion. “Albert, do we have something to tell them?”<
br />
The gentleman whom Abbey had met in the coffee shop during her first visit to Golden Meadows looked fondly at Claire. “Would that be advising them to keep Valentine’s Day open?”
“What are you two planning?” Abbey asked. “A party?”
Albert and Claire’s eyes sparkled with a shared secret. “Perhaps,” Albert said.
“You could call it a party,” Claire said, “except that we prefer to call it a wedding.”
Abbey reached for both of them and enveloped them simultaneously in a bear hug. “I’m so glad for you!” She knew she was gushing, but she couldn’t stop.
“And don’t think you can just recycle the gifts from this shindig that you don’t want,” Claire said with an impish grin. “I’ll be watching.”
Abbey turned to Mike. “Did you know anything about this?”
He shook his head. “Nope. I’m as surprised—and as pleased—as you are. Grandma kept this locked tighter than the closet where she used to hide our Christmas presents.”
“Well,” Claire explained, “I had to get you two together first.”
Mike grinned. “I don’t know what to say, except thanks and congratulations!”
“By the way,” Claire continued, “I do have another surprise. Want a hint?”
“Sure!” Abbey said.
“Okay, here it is: Great hoppy-ness always.” The elderly woman motioned toward the entry to the church.
Abbey turned startled eyes to the door. “Aunt Luellen! You came all the way from Brazil?”
“Chile, Honey, and of course I did. I couldn’t miss seeing my favorite niece get married!” The woman was tanned and fit and didn’t look half of her eighty-something years. “And I can’t wait for you to see what I got you!”
“If it turns out to be half as good as what you got me last Christmas,” Abbey said, “I’m going to love it!”
Aunt Luellen looked confused. “I can’t remember what I got you last year.”
Abbey looked up at her handsome new husband. “Love,” she said. “That’s what you gave me.”
About the Author
Janet Spaeth figures she has it all, living between the prairies of North Dakota and the north woods of Minnesota. She has been blessed with the “world’s best family.” From tallest to shortest, they are husband Kevin, daughter Megan, son Nick, and cat, Quicksilver. Janet is honored to write stories that reflect the happiness of love guided by God.
Dedication
To M.E. Froelich
Friends 4Ever
“This is the day which the Lord hath made;
we will rejoice and be glad in it.”
Psalm 118:24
A note from the author:
I love to hear from my readers! You may correspond with me by writing:
Janet Spaeth
Author Relations
PO Box 719
Uhrichsville, OH 44683
Candy Cane Calaboose Page 14
