In the Light of Love

by Deborah Fletcher Mello

  Irene hugged her back, laughing gleefully. “Mary, it’s a pleasure. This is so exciting!”

  The two patriarchs shook hands, introducing themselves. Jericho looked around the room waving to Clarissa and the students as they greeted them. “Is Talisa still here?” he asked.

  Mary shook her head. “No, dear. She and her friends just left to go find their dresses.”

  Jericho nodded his disappointment as his mother laughed.

  “She’ll be back, son-shine!”

  Jericho blushed, color filling his face. Elijah rolled his eyes, patting his son on the back.

  Irene glanced down at the gold watch on her wrist. “Goodness,” she exclaimed excitedly. “Six o’clock will be here before we know it. You boys need to go home and get your tuxedos pressed and ready for tonight. Mary, we have some things to do here, then I’ve made appointments for us to get our nails done.”

  Mary’s eyes widened in surprise. “A manicure?”

  Irene nodded. “I think you and I need some time to ourselves to just relax and talk. Our babies are getting married, and I don’t know about you, but I didn’t sleep a wink last night.”

  Herman gave his wife a quick hug. “Mary was up most of the night, too,” he said as he gave the woman another quick squeeze.

  “That settles it then,” Irene said, taking Mary by the hand. “Jericho, take your fathers and get going. We will meet you men back here by four-thirty.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Mary, let’s go check that things are well here and then you and I can take off as well.”

  “I think we should go shopping, too,” Mary said with a wide smile. “This is definitely a good time for a new dress. Then maybe we can meet up with Talisa and the girls at the bridal shop and get a peek at what they’re up to?”

  Irene smiled back. “Mother, I like your thinking!”

  The mood was light and cheery as the two women each picked out a new dress at a small dress shop Irene Becton was a frequent client of. After a quick lunch of Caesar salad and iced tea they headed to Irene’s regular beauty salon and their scheduled appointments.

  Sitting side by side in two pedicure chairs, both were enjoying the warm water swirling over their bare feet as two young Korean women filed and painted the length of their fingernails. The salon was painted a soothing shade of pale yellow, the walls adorned with framed prints of pretty hands and pretty feet.

  “You should be very proud of your daughter,” Irene said, glancing toward the other woman. “She’s an amazing young woman.”

  Mary smiled sweetly. “Thank you. Talisa’s always been a good girl.”

  “We spent a good deal of time together in Africa and she always spoke so highly of you and your husband. Your daughter loves you two very much.”

  Mary gave the woman a shy smile, treading her toes along the surface of the warm bath. A wave of anxiety suddenly flushed the brown of her complexion. Noting the sudden look of reservation that blessed the woman’s expression, Irene moved to reassure her. “Talisa had wonderful things to say about you. I think that’s why I feel like you and I already know each other so well.”

  Mary cut an eye toward the woman whose face was filled with a warming smile. She paused, her mouth opening and closing as she struggled to find the right words to share and explain what Talisa might have already revealed. “I wasn’t always easy on my girl. Sometimes…” Mary hesitated. Her mind was suddenly like a slide show of images, the ugliness of her behavior playing out in panoramic vision within her mind’s eye.

  Mary could not even believe how horribly she had treated her own child over the years, Talisa enduring her abuse without ever complaining. During many of her bouts her daughter had been more of a parent than she herself could have even imagined being. She sighed as she thought about her child and the joy that shimmered across her face since Jericho had come into her life.

  Talisa had dated a young man in college who had made her happy and Mary had done everything in her power to destroy her child’s joy. The straw that had broken her back had been when she’d discovered that Talisa had been intimate with the boy, giving away her virginity and her heart. Mary had berated her endlessly, had called her names no mother should ever call her child and still Talisa had endured. Talisa had loved her mother unfailingly and Mary hadn’t done anything to prove herself worthy of it.

  Irene reached her free hand out to tap Mary’s forearm. “We do the best we can do, Mary. I know you did as well as any mother possibly could. Talisa is proof of that. It’s obvious she grew up with a lot of love. And my son adores her. I have never seen him so happy.”

  Mary smiled. “He’s a sweet boy.”

  “The two of them will be very good together.”

  Mary nodded her agreement. “I just don’t want my grandbabies born over there in that jungle,” she exclaimed.

  Irene London laughed, her head bobbing up and down against her shoulders. “Mary, I was just thinking the same thing!”

  The four friends were awash with excitement as they headed into Casa Di Moda for Brides, an exclusive bridal shop located in the heart of Buckhead. Between court and cancellations, Leila had managed to arrange a one-on-one consultation for them, negating Talisa’s plans to head to their local mall to buy a simple white dress off the rack. A private collection of couture gowns selected especially for Talisa hung on padded satin hangers in wait.

  Leila nodded her approval as she shook hands with the stylist who would be assisting them. “And this is Talisa London, our bride,” Leila said as she made the introductions.

  The petite redhead greeted Talisa warmly. “Congratulations, Ms. London. My name is Brittany, and we’re delighted to be a part of your special day. Once you’ve made your selection, our seamstress will be right out to make any necessary alterations.”

  “Thank you.”

  Mya flipped through the row of silk and satin gowns. “I am so jealous,” she exclaimed, pulling a strapless, slinky, straight-skirted number with lace and pearl beading from the rack. She held the gown up against her thin body, admiring her reflection in the full-length mirror on the opposite wall.

  Benita shook her head, pulling the garment from Mya’s hands and returning it back to the rack. “Well, I’m still in shock. Two days ago we were talking about meeting this man and today we get to meet him at your wedding ceremony. Are you sure about this, Talisa?”

  Mya rolled her eyes. “Of course she’s sure. He’s a doctor. A surgeon!”

  Talisa’s head waved from side to side. “I’m sure because I love him and he loves me,” she said, giving her friend a tight hug.

  “Yeah, that, too,” Mya responded, dropping down onto a padded cushion in the tastefully decorated room.

  The women were interrupted as Brittany pushed a silver serving cart into the room. The top was laden with bottles of Evian water, a crystal pitcher of sparkling apple juice, and a platter of assorted cheeses, prosciutto, crackers, breads and fresh fruit. “Refreshments for you, ladies,” Brittany chimed, her hands clasped in front of her. She turned to Talisa. “Ms. London, are you ready to get started?”

  Excitement gleamed in Talisa’s eyes as she nodded.

  Three dresses later, Talisa’s three friends stood in quiet awe, approval masking each of their faces. Leila smiled, her gaze meeting her best friend’s as she nodded her head. “That’s the one, Talisa. You look absolutely beautiful.”

  Talisa could feel the moisture forming behind her eyelids and she fought the sudden desire to cry tears of sheer joy. She turned toward Brittany and smiled. “I’ll take this one,” she said, stepping down off the pedestal.

  The woman smiled back as she watched the four women embrace each other in one group hug. Gesturing behind her, she cleared her throat for their attention. “Ladies, this is our collection of bridesmaids gowns. While I help Ms. London out of her dress, please feel free to search through them until you find something you’re ready to try on. Of course, with your time constraint we won’t be able to
order anything special.”

  Leila nodded. “Thanks, Brittany. We’re not worried about matching.”

  Mya agreed. “As long as we look cute. That’s all that matters,” she said as she flipped through the silk and satin fabric swatches.

  As Talisa made her way to the dressing room door, she turned back around to face her friends. They had each claimed her happiness as if it were their own and it shone on each of their faces, gleaming from their eyes into the room. Leila met her stare and held it, the two grinning broadly at each other. When Leila winked, her smile widening even more, Talisa could no longer hold back the tears she’d been trying to hold on to.

  At precisely five-fifteen, the women finally came through the back door of the foundation, heads newly coiffed, nails freshly painted, the beginnings of their makeup applied. Talisa’s mother greeted each of them as they entered. Mary kissed her daughter’s cheek, then spun in a circle to show off her brand-new dress.

  “How does the mother of the bride look?” she asked, her gaze sweeping over her surrogate daughters.

  “Very nice, Mrs. London,” Benita answered.

  “I love your dress. You look gorgeous,” Mya responded, admiring the silk dress and lace jacket the woman wore. The pale green color was flattering to her complexion and her hair and makeup were meticulous.

  Mary leaned to kiss Talisa’s cheek. “Is it okay, baby?”

  Her daughter nodded. “You’re beautiful, Mom!”

  Mary grabbed the young woman’s hand and guided them down the narrow hallway.

  “You girls are getting dressed in Talisa’s office,” she said as they entered the room, closing the door behind them.

  “Can’t we go look at the sanctuary?” Talisa asked.

  “No. They can go, but you can’t. It’s a surprise.”

  “Why?”

  “We wanted it to be special. For you to see it as you’re walking down the aisle. Irene and I have been working on this all afternoon. I can’t wait for you to see what Jericho’s mother was able to arrange. That woman is something else!”

  There was a knock on the door and Irene Becton peeked her head inside. “Hello, ladies. May I join you?”

  “Speak of the devil!” Mary said, gesturing for her to enter. “Irene, I just called your name.”

  Irene gave Mary a quick hug, then introduced herself to Talisa’s friends. When the formalities were complete, she reached to kiss Talisa. “Talisa, we tried to catch up with you girls but you ladies were just too fast for us.”

  Mary grinned. “The nice woman at the bridal shop said you picked a beautiful gown.”

  Leila moved to give the woman a warm hug. “She did, Mrs. London, and I’m sure it’s exactly what you would have picked for her.”

  Talisa squeezed her mother’s hand. “Mom, you’re not upset that you weren’t with me, are you?”

  Mary shook her head no. “Not at all, Talisa. You sure can’t plan a wedding in one day and be everywhere at the same time. I know you girls did good. Irene and I had our mother responsibilities to take care of. Didn’t we, Irene?”

  Irene smiled. “Yes, we did, and we had a wonderful time together this afternoon getting ready. This is so exciting!”

  “I’m so nervous,” Talisa responded, dropping down into an upholstered chair. “I’m shaking.”

  “No time for that now, dear. You need to get dressed. Your mother and I can’t wait to see the dresses you girls found. Can we, Mary?”

  Mary nodded in agreement. “You girls get dressed now. Irene and I need to check on a few more things, then we’ll be ready to start the ceremony.”

  Talisa shook her head as the two women kissed them each and then rushed from the room chattering excitedly.

  “Well, I guess they’re getting along just fine. And I was worried,” Talisa laughed as Leila laughed with her.

  “It’s good to see your mother so happy, Talisa,” Leila said, Mya and Benita echoing the sentiments.

  Minutes later, when both matriarchs knocked for the second time, they were all dressed, Mya putting the finishing touches on Talisa’s makeup. As her mother entered Talisa stood up and turned around to face her. The two women smiled broadly at each other.

  Mary clasped her hands together in front of her, fighting the rush of tears that suddenly wanted to spill from her eyes. Irene reached a warm hand out, pressing it against the woman’s back, her own tears teasing the inside of her eyelids.

  Talisa’s dress was white satin. A simple sheath cut that fell to an empire waist and stopped just above her ankle. The bodice was embroidered with pearl beads, a quiet accent that added just a hint of shimmer. A simple white satin pump with a moderate heel completed her attire. The woman was stunning.

  Her freshly manicured hands reached up to finger the pearl earrings that adorned her ears, a gift from her maid of honor. “How do I look?” Talisa asked, looking from one mother to the other.

  Mary nodded, unable to find her voice for fear she would burst out crying. Irene smiled. “Beautiful, Talisa. Absolutely beautiful,” she said softly. “All of you girls look incredible,” she said, smiling upon the three women standing beside the bride.

  Mya and Benita grinned as Leila wrapped them each in a warm embrace. Their dresses were similar in color, varying shades of a gorgeous cobalt hue in three different designs and lengths that flattered and complemented their individual figures.

  A knock against the wooden door interrupted the moment and Talisa’s father called to them from the other side.

  “Are you girls ready yet? I’m ready to walk my daughter down the aisle now!”

  Talisa laughed as her mother pulled the door open. Making his way inside, Herman grinned, clasping his wife’s hand beneath his own. “Well, I’ll be…” he said, his head bobbing up and down. He wiped at a tear that had fallen against his cheek.

  “We’re all ready, Daddy,” Mary said.

  Herman leaned to kiss Talisa’s cheek, holding her tightly as if he were not ready to let her go. Talisa fell into the warmth of the embrace, very much her father’s daughter as memories of their time together flooded through her.

  “I love you, Daddy,” she whispered into his ear.

  The man nodded. “I love you, too, pumpkin.”

  As the group made their way into the sanctuary, the pipe organ was playing softly. Talisa could smell the flowers before she saw them and when they threw open the sanctuary doors to welcome her, she was in awe. She gripped her father’s hand tightly, suddenly overcome with a wealth of emotion. Leila smiled widely, reaching to kiss her best friend’s cheek as the processional began.

  Irene Becton had filled the room with every available flower that existed in the town of Atlanta. Between her contacts and the footwork of the Wesley students, they’d scavenged every floral shop, supermarket and sidewalk vendor. Even a few gardens hadn’t survived their ravage as they’d plucked every stem they could. The room was overflowing with arrangements, flowers in every imaginable shade in the color spectrum. The flowers were complemented by a multitude of candles that flickered light and warmth around the altar behind Reverend Warren who stood with his Bible in hand, dressed in his white covenant robe and embroidered stole. Against the backdrop of the stained glassed windows the room was breathtaking.

  Jericho stood in wait at the minister’s side, dressed handsomely in a black tuxedo suit, white dress shirt and silver satin tie. Jericho’s father, similarly attired, waited beside him, hands clasped behind his back, his pride-filled expression beaming around the room. The Wesley students filled the pews and they rose to their feet when the organist stopped playing and three flutists began to play “The Wedding March.”

  The moment he saw her headed in his direction, it took every ounce of composure Jericho had to keep from rushing down the aisle to pull her into his arms. Talisa was breathtaking, he thought, as he wiped at the tears blinding his view. She embodied everything he could have ever wished for in a wife and the expression across his face and hers spoke volumes. If th
ere had been any doubts, any single moment of questioning whether they were doing the right thing or not, all was suddenly gone. Both knew as they reached for the other’s hand, Reverend Warren asking who gave the woman to be wed, that their union was as right as rain against a summer drought.

  ISBN: 978-1-4603-7073-5

  IN THE LIGHT OF LOVE

  Copyright © 2007 by Deborah Fletcher Mello

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