by Anita Higman
“Why did your parents choose to move?” Wiley touched her arm. “You don’t really have to answer all my queries.”
“No, it’s all right.” Trudie fingered the latch on her purse. “Well, my family lived on a farm in Oklahoma. But after my mother passed away, my father wanted a totally new life. It was hard to blame him, really. The farm had too many memories. So, we moved from Oklahoma to a small house in Humble, and he went to work for an insurance company. It was a different world for us all.” Trudie chuckled. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to say all that.” Wiley was easy to talk to. Already such a good friend. “You listen too well. A dangerous trait when you’re with a talkative female.”
“I adore talkative females, especially when they have such interesting things to say. So, when you arrived at Humble High School, did you take them by storm?”
“No. But I was notorious.” Trudie grinned at him.
He stroked his chin. “And what were you notorious for?”
“For being insufferably homely.”
Wiley tossed his head back, laughing. “I won’t let you say such things about yourself.” Without hesitation, he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. Then he released her and came around to open her door.
Trudie thought nothing of the intimate gesture, since Wiley seemed like the kind of man who was generous with his affections. In fact, she fully expected him to find a way to kiss every woman at the wedding, including the bride! And Trudie would stand back and enjoy the show.
They climbed the concrete stairs to the entry and breezed through the double oak doors. Trudie was happily startled with the interior—with its multiple chandeliers, checkered marble floor, and two-story fireplace. Large sprays of white roses adorned the aisles, and linen-covered chairs sat neatly in rows waiting for their guests. She then turned her attention behind them to the winding staircase.
Wiley followed her gaze. “I’m guessing the bride will come down those stairs, looking luminous and very much like an angel.” Wiley winked. “They always do.”
Trudie smiled as she imagined the bride gliding down the staircase. In the midst of her reverie a flourish of chamber music started playing as several handsome young men dressed in tuxedoes began seating the guests.
Wiley and Trudie waited in line to be seated, and after a minute or two, one of the young men offered his arm to her. She looked down the walkway, and in that brief moment her heart fluttered, wondering what it would feel like to be the bride and not a guest. She took in a deep breath, circled her arm through the young man’s, and allowed him to escort her toward their seats. Once they were both deposited comfortably, Trudie turned to Wiley. “What is it about weddings?” she whispered. “Such a mixture of solemnity and rapture.”
Wiley leaned over to her. “No wonder our Lord’s first miracle was at a wedding,” he whispered back.
Their heads touched gently, and Trudie thought their gesture may have looked a little too affectionate from behind. If anyone had been looking on, they would think they were in love. She placed her hands around her purse, opening and closing the latch. When she looked up again, Trudie saw a sight she could not have even imagined. Mason was walking up the aisle.
This time Trudie’s heart didn’t flutter—it nearly stopped.
Chapter Twenty
Mason looked at her, his expression riddled with a dozen shades of astonishment. Then he sat down on the other side of the aisle.
Trudie swallowed and then choked.
“Are you okay?” Wiley turned to her, attentive, patting her on the back. “Someone you know?”
She nodded. Breathe. In and out. You’ve done it since you were born. “Yes. Someone I know.” She guessed Mason had just seen what surely looked like intimate behavior with another man. He must think her a fiend to go out with another man so soon after their date and after accepting such lavish gifts.
Trudie gripped the edges of the chair and glanced in Mason’s direction, only to see another spectacle that was beyond her realm of belief. Lane was seated next to Mason, and she was making a thumbs-up sign, which was directed right at her. Trudie knew if she’d had a mouthful of punch she would have spewed it all over the guests. Someone once said—she had no idea who—that when life offered its most hilarious moments, it usually meant that someone else was being tortured. Well, this was comedy’s finest hour, and her torture was complete.
Wiley leaned toward her. “Say, isn’t that Lane sitting over there?”
“Yep. That’s my sis.”
“We could ask them to sit with us at dinner.” He raised his shoulders and nodded, looking hopeful.
Perfect. Trudie smiled at Wiley but said nothing. Why did Mason and Lane come? She guessed that the bride and groom had not only befriended her but everyone else. Then she wondered what Lane could have meant by her gesture. Was Lane trying to give her the thumbs-up because of Wiley, or was she subtly saying that she was now with Mason? With him, meaning that Mason and Lane were a couple. But wasn’t that the goal they’d both been working toward? She’d been consciously making a way for Mason to fall in love with Lane. And apparently it was working. Somehow seeing them together was more painful than she thought it would be.
The music changed and the bridesmaids began floating down the aisle. They were all adorned in Renaissance-style dresses with high waists and puffy sleeves. How different, but beautiful. Then Trudie immediately went back to the tragic comedy in her midst. She crossed her arms. Perhaps Mason had given up on her. Then when he was in the middle of a coaching session with Lane, he suddenly succumbed to her charisma. Lane was, after all, much prettier and more graceful and more business-like. And less sweaty. That counted for something during the long hot summers of Humble, Texas. And too, Lane Abernathy had made herself into a real lady. Pure class. What man wouldn’t be enchanted by all her charms?
Then again! It had been only one day since Mason had stormed into Bloomers, bought up the store, and promised to rock her world. What happened with that? I guess he only gives a woman twenty-four hours before he moves on to rock someone else’s world.
A pipe organ started to play Pachelbel’s Canon, and the crowd rose. It was a majestic moment, one that always brought a joyful mist to Trudie’s eyes. This time it brought tears along with a twinge of sadness. She hadn’t wanted to be right about her life—that the colorful designs inside the kaleidoscope were really no more than broken pieces of glass.
The people turned toward the staircase behind them and watched as Kelsey Rayborn made her way down the grand staircase in all her luminous glory, just as Wiley had said.
Kelsey passed by them, her gown making a whispery rustling sound. Trudie then refocused her attention on the groom. Jerold’s eyes were glistening with wonder as he gazed down the aisle at his bride. In moments, they would be united in the sacrament of marriage. Such a holy thing that God had entrusted humans with. Remembering Kelsey and Jerold’s steady faith in the Lord, Trudie’s spirits rallied, reminding her once again that God was still in control—still working wonders that might at present be unseen.
The bride arrived at her destination, and the guests sat back down.
The minister smiled at them both and began, “Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here in the sight of God....”
As the familiar words flowed over the audience in a pleasant ebb and flow, Trudie tried with genuine willpower not to let her gaze drift over to Mason and Lane. Apparently self-control was lacking. She drifted anyway. The two of them sat quietly looking toward the bride and groom. Lane had a smile of bliss on her face.
When the vows had been exchanged and the prayers offered and the songs all sung, Trudie was certain people would say that it was a glorious wedding. Indeed the ceremony was beautiful in every way, and two dear people who loved each other were now man and wife. And on a purely practical side—but equally welcomed—not a single person had tripped, no candles caught anyone’s hair on fire, and the flower girl didn’t raise her dress over her head to show everyone
her new ruffled underwear. The family and guests could breathe again. Life was good. At least it was for the bridal party. All that remained of the ceremony was the closing announcement.
“You may now kiss the bride,” the minister said with reverent joy.
The maid of honor lifted Kelsey’s veil, and Jerold went after his beloved with enthusiasm. It wasn’t a kiss that shot up any eyebrows, but it did cause a few stray chuckles to ripple through the crowd.
Yes, it was a day of extravagant love and effervescent smiles, and Trudie decided that no matter what happened over the next several hours, she would smile along with everyone else. But she couldn’t help but sneak another look over at Mason. He was busy grinning at the kissing couple while Lane was busy lifting her lacy wrap back over her shoulders. As she struggled with it, Mason came to her assistance.
Wiley leaned over to her. “I’m starving. How about you?” he murmured out the side of his mouth.
Trudie squelched a chuckle. She had thought he was going to say something reflective about the wedding or something witty about the kiss. “I’m afraid they may not have any protein bars.”
“That’s okay. I brought some.” He lifted the flap on his jacket to reveal the tops of several treats.
Trudie rolled her eyes at him.
The couple turned their beaming faces to their friends and family. Then as the recessional music embraced them all, the couple strode down the aisle—hands clasped together while stealing glances at each other. They made their way under a set of stone arches and into a large banquet hall.
After the rest of the wedding party had made their way down the aisle and through the arches, guests began to rise and leave their seats. It was a moment Trudie had been dreading. “Wiley, I think—”
“Why don’t we go over and visit with your sister and her boyfriend.” Wiley rose from his seat.
Trudie put a smile on her face and joined him. “Good idea.”
They both turned in the direction of Mason and Lane, and for a moment Mason appeared to be leaving without Lane. She caught up with him, though, and as they all converged in the middle of the aisle, Lane slipped her arm through Mason’s. A flash of surprise crossed his face as he looked down at Lane’s arm. But like a gentleman, he adjusted his arm to accommodate hers.
“Hi, Lane.” Wiley kissed her on the cheek.
When Wiley eased back, Lane gave Trudie a sisterly twitch of the eye, but she didn’t catch her meaning.
Lane turned to Mason. “I’d like to introduce you to Wiley Flat, who co-owns a wonderful art gallery in Houston. Wiley, this is Mason Wimberley. He’s a financial consultant.”
Mason reached out first. “I’m glad to meet you.”
“Same here.” Wiley took his hand with a firm shake.
Trudie felt like she ought to keep things looking casual, so she reached out to shake Mason’s hand. “Hi.”
He looked at Trudie. “Hello there.” Mason’s hand lingered over hers for a second or two longer than expected
Curious glances ignited within their little circle.
Mason and Trudie released each other.
“Wiley is a new acquaintance.” Trudie put an emphasis on her last word and then looked at Mason, who now had an unreadable expression. “I didn’t realize you two knew the bride and groom.”
“Well, I really didn’t know them all that well,” Lane said in a low voice. “To be honest, I was surprised to receive the invitation.”
Mason smiled. “I know them both well. I’m pleased to say that Kelsey and Jerold are two of the finest people I’ve ever known.”
“Well, that’s quite a recommendation. Trudie, you’ll have to introduce me to them.” Wiley made a little flourish with his hands. “By the way, I hope we can all sit together for dinner. Would that be acceptable to everyone?” He added some eager inflections to his voice.
“That would be fine.” Mason adjusted the vest on his suit as he raised his chin.
Lane looked a bit disappointed. “Of course. Thank you, Wiley, for thinking of it.”
Trudie nodded, her face already feeling tingly.
“I think they’re seating everyone now.” Mason motioned toward the banquet hall.
Their merry little band maneuvered through the archway and into the large dining room. Thousands of twinkly lights, urns of red gladiolas, and live mandolin music gave the hall an elegant and faraway ambiance. The lace-covered tables were adorned with gossamer ferns and crystal candelabras. Each woman was handed a garland of baby’s breath with ivory ribbons. Nice touch. If all the women wore them it would certainly add to the Renaissance theme.
“Need some help with that?” Lane asked Trudie, pointing to her flowers.
“Sure.” Trudie handed her sister the garland, and she gently nestled it in her hair.
“What a surprise,” Lane whispered to her sister.
Trudie wasn’t sure if she meant all the gifts of garlands or Wiley’s presence or the fact that they were all put together as agreeably as pudding tossed into mixed greens. “Thanks.”
Lane handed Trudie her wreath of flowers, and she pinned it to her hair, making sure it looked great on top of her up-do. The baby’s breath went with her sister’s moonlight pink dress as if it had all been coordinated that way.
Wiley grinned at them. “You two look like a couple of Shakespearean pixies. The flowers suit you both very well.”
Mason didn’t seem to know what to do with Wiley’s comment, so he just grinned.
Lane touched the flowers on her head. “Well, it’s a first at any wedding I’ve been to. I think the garlands are a unique idea. Although I’m wondering why the wedding planner didn’t talk Kelsey out of it, since it won’t work with all the women’s hairstyles.”
“What do you think, Trudie?” Mason looked at her. “About the bride’s choice?”
Trudie joggled herself a bit. “You mean about the garlands? Well, this is more their dream than ours. We guests are just here to decorate and celebrate their day. So, the bride should do whatever her heart tells her, and we should follow her lead. And, well, since this wedding seems to have a bit of a Renaissance feel to it, that seems appropriate, since weddings are also about rebirth...you know, two people coming together as one.”
“Nicely put.” Wiley applauded.
Trudie felt her face warm.
Mason smiled at her while Lane looked rather self-conscious—a look that wasn’t usually in her repertoire of expressions. Oh, dear. What had she said to get such a reaction? Had she disagreed with her sister too much?
“Perhaps we should sit down.” Lane gestured to the tables before them like a game show hostess.
They all decided on a table, for a moment it seemed as though they were playing a game of musical chairs, with each person circling but not knowing where or when to sit.
Finally Mason pulled out a chair for Lane. He made sure she was seated and then he went to stand behind the chair opposite Lane.
Hmm. Trudie took quick note that there were only two possible seating situations remaining, and both of them meant sitting next to Mason all evening.
Wiley pulled out one of the two remaining chairs for Trudie, and then he sat opposite her.
When they were all settled at last, a collective sigh seemed to stir among them. Except perhaps for Wiley. He was happily oblivious to any stirrings of discontent. But Trudie felt the tension as if she were perched on a high wire without a net. Well, here we all are. Trudie took in a deep breath. Let the circus begin.
Chapter Twenty-one
After the bride and groom were seated at the head table, the waiters began serving everyone their salads.
“Well, isn’t this cozy?” Wiley looked at each of them with contentedness, but he especially lit up when he spotted a basket of sweet breads and rolls. Following a declaration from Wiley that they were dwelling in a perpetual haven of rapture, a twitchy sort of quiet fell on them.
The squirmy situation made Trudie think of a basket full of snakes— sil
ent, but tailor-made for trouble. Out of desperation for something to do besides fidget, she reached for her napkin, which was folded into a clever bird-of-paradise design. She tried memorizing its unique folds to recreate later, but it fell apart in her hands. Hmm. Sounded like her life.
Mason tugged on his collar.
Lane took a sip of her water. “Wiley, please tell me about your latest art show. I heard it was very successful.”
“It was.” Wiley took a slice of bread and passed the basket to Mason. “I’d like to take credit for it, but it was my partner, Kat, who found her. A brand new talent. Dauphine Marvel. And she is that. A marvel.”
Lane leaned toward Wiley. “Tell me a little about Dauphine’s work.”
“Well, it’s a bit is like Andy Warhol’s. It radiates that same boldness with a connectivity to our lives, but Dauphine’s work has several differences. I think you might...”
While Wiley and Lane chatted together like magpies about his latest art show, Mason leaned over to her. “Hello again.”
“Hi there.” Trudie looked into his eyes, which were so warm and welcoming, it made her wish they were the only ones at the table. But she squelched that thought just to keep her eyes from giving away any of her yearning. “I hope you got my phone message.”
“I did.”
“I’m really glad for this opportunity...you know, to thank you for recreating my spare bedroom into an art studio.” Trudie laced her fingers together. “It’s incredible. You should see it.” Oh, dear. She’d gotten carried away. Her comment would make him want to come over to her apartment.
“I would love to sometime.” He smiled at her. “And you’re very welcome.”
“It was far too generous. Honestly.”
Mason shook his head.
“But I can’t keep accepting gifts.”
“I would ask you why, but I’ll let it go...for now.”
“Thank you.” Trudie twiddled her thumbs on her lap and wondered what Lane would think if she had overhead some of their conversation. “I began to sketch last night for the first time in years.”
