The Wedding Promise

by Thomas Kinkade

  “I checked in with Sylvia a while ago. No word. But the Bennets say no change in plans.”

  “All right then. The show will go on. I give them a lot of credit,” Molly added. “I’m not sure what I would do in their shoes.”

  “Me either,” Liza agreed. She checked her watch. It wasn’t quite nine. “We have a little over three hours. I guess Kyle could turn up by then.”

  Molly made a stack of white boxes filled with frozen hors d’oeuvres. “Yes, he could. I also know some great charities where we can donate all this food if the wedding is cancelled. Not that you need to tell the Bennets that right away.”

  “I understand,” Liza replied. Molly wasn’t exactly pessimistic. But she was practical.

  Liza helped Molly get settled, then went upstairs and dressed. When she came back down again the wedding guests staying over at the inn were sitting in the front parlor, dressed in their finery. They seemed content watching the musicians who were to play during the ceremony unpack their instruments.

  The Bennets soon pulled up in a long white limousine. Liza felt a clutch in her heart as they got out. Frank came first, followed by Sylvia and, finally, Jennifer, trailed by Meg and two young women in very similar dresses. They had to be the other bridesmaids, Jennifer’s cousin, Elena, and her college roommate, Carrie, Liza realized.

  Jennifer was wearing her glamorous makeup and a hairstyle that made her look like a fashion model. While the women walked toward the inn, Frank went to the back of the car and took out a big garment bag, which he carried with care, draped across his outstretched arms.

  The sight was touching and Liza hoped with all her heart that all this care and preparation were not in vain. But time was running short. So short . . .

  As Jennifer approached, Liza could see she’d been crying. She looked like a puffy-eyed, forlorn-but-determined princess.

  Liza’s heart went out to her.

  “Good to see you, Jennifer.” Liza gave her a quick hug. She wasn’t sure what else to say. “Come on upstairs. Your room is ready.”

  “Great. I’d better put the gown on. It’s getting late,” Jennifer replied.

  “Yes, it is.” Liza quickly agreed with her, then glanced at Sylvia. Jennifer’s mother gave Liza a look and shrugged. Obviously, no one was willing to state the obvious: It seemed highly unlikely that the wedding would take place as scheduled—or that the wedding would take place at all.

  Liza turned and led the way upstairs. She had prepared a suite on the second floor for Jennifer and her bridesmaids. The rooms and private bath were ready, complete with cold drinks, snacks, and bouquets of white roses.

  Jennifer, Meg, and even Sylvia, all looked very pleased with the room.

  Liza felt relieved. “If there’s anything you need at all, just let me know.”

  “We will, Liza. Thank you. Time to get the bride dressed now,” Sylvia said with a quick smile. She began to unzip the garment bag that held the gown.

  Liza shut the door quietly, leaving Sylvia, Jennifer, and her bridesmaids to continue through the wedding rituals. As if by completing all the steps, it might somehow conjure the groom, she thought. An “if you build it, they will come” attitude. If only Kyle would heed the call.

  She glanced at her watch. Perilously close to high noon.

  As Liza came downstairs, she heard the sound of many voices and found the inn full of wedding guests. A young woman approached her, leading two little girls by the hand, one on each side. The woman bore a striking resemblance to Jennifer, what Jen might look like in twenty years or so, Liza thought. The little girls were also dressed for the bridal party. The flower girls, she realized.

  “Jennifer and the bridesmaids are all upstairs, second door on the left,” Liza told her.

  “Thanks so much. The girls are getting a little overly excited down here. We could use some quiet time before the ceremony.”

  “Good idea,” Liza agreed. She smiled at the flower girls as they passed by, their satin dresses puffed with crinoline, flower-covered headpieces trailing ribbons. They looked like two little angels, she thought. And they could all definitely use some help from that quarter right about now.

  Claire and the catering helpers were ushering the guests outside. A few of the older guests balked at the cloudy weather and chose to remain in the sitting room and on the porch. The others were offered drinks and mingled on the back patio and in the garden.

  Past the beds of roses, peonies, tiger lilies, and hydrangeas, rows of folding chairs had been arranged with a long aisle in between that led to the small wisteria-covered arbor where the couple would say their vows. The arbor was just large enough to cover the wedding party and the minister.

  It was already a quarter to twelve. Many guests had taken their seats. Two of the groomsmen, dressed in tuxedos, were giving out programs to guests and helping them find seats. Liza guessed that Frank had instructed them on their duties since there had been no chance for a rehearsal.

  She could hardly believe it but everything was in place and it all looked perfect. Just as perfect as all the pictures of weddings she had studied online and in magazines. The tent, the tables, the folding chairs with the tulle bows and fresh flowers. The arrangements of hydrangeas and roses, the tuxedoed bartenders and waiters at their stations, the musicians tuning up. The pleasant scent of food warming, the tinkling sound of glassware and silver trays clanking in the kitchen.

  “Well, the wedding has begun. With or without the groom,” Claire said, coming up beside her. “It would be hard to stop it now, even if you wanted to.”

  “Yes, it’s really happening,” Liza had to agree as she looked around. All the weeks of planning, researching, worrying were over. It had all come down to this.

  Trying to stop it now would be like trying to hold back the tide. But if Kyle didn’t show up . . .

  Reverend Ben suddenly appeared. He walked out the back door of the inn and came toward her. “Liza, may I have a word with you?”

  “Yes, of course, Reverend. Let’s step over here, where it’s quiet,” Liza suggested. She led the reverend to the edge of the garden, knowing this conversation probably needed a private spot.

  “I’ve just spoken to Jennifer and her parents and Kyle’s parents, too.” Liza had not met Kyle’s parents yet but knew that they, too, were members of Reverend Ben’s congregation. “No one has heard from Kyle. In fact, you seem to be the last person who saw him or spoke to him after he and Jennifer parted on the beach on Friday.”

  “I guess so. I had no idea at the time that their argument was going to be so . . . irrevocable. I would have made sure he waited for her. Or persuaded him to go find her.”

  “Of course you would have,” Reverend Ben replied. “Who could have predicted this? I’ve advised the bride and her parents—and possible in-laws—to consider calling off the ceremony. It is just about twelve o’clock,” he noted, glancing at his watch. “But they want to wait a bit. Especially Jennifer. I think you may have to announce a delay.”

  “All right, I can do that. And I’ll do what I can to amuse the guests.”

  “Very good,” Reverend Ben agreed. “I know you’re in a difficult spot.”

  “Not as difficult as the spot that Jennifer is in,” Liza said. “It might be easier if she would just accept that Kyle’s not coming.”

  “She still has great faith in him,” Reverend Ben replied. “It’s hard for me to suggest that her faith might be misplaced. I’m going back up to talk to her. Would you like to come?”

  Liza wasn’t sure what she could do but decided she should see Jennifer and her family again, just to ask if they needed anything or wanted her to make any change in their plans.

  She entered the inn and went upstairs with the minister. The ground floor of the inn was filled with guests, who all seemed to be having a fine time, largely unaware that there was a delay or any problem at all with the wedding.

  Liza knocked once on the door to the bridal party’s suite. “Jennifer? It’s Liza
and Reverend Ben. May we come in?”

  The door quickly opened. “Come in, please,” Sylvia said. Her glamorous glow was mostly worn away. She looked rumpled and exhausted. “Maybe one of you can persuade her,” she added.

  Liza took in the scene, Jennifer surrounded by her bridesmaids, her mother, two aunts, and her father. Everyone looked very frustrated and grim. Even the flower girls, who were lying on the floor in their beautiful dresses, coloring. One of them tugged on their mother’s gown. “When can we go down and be in the wedding and throw the flowers?” she whispered loudly.

  Their mother waved at them, signaling the little girl to be quiet.

  Jennifer didn’t notice the exchange. She wasn’t looking at any of them. Her expression was stoic, resigned. She sat at the dressing table, looking into the mirror, trying to repair her tearstained makeup.

  Megan sat next to her on the oblong stool, speaking softly and rubbing Jennifer’s bare shoulder.

  “Jen . . . please. You know I wouldn’t say this if I didn’t absolutely have to. I’m the last person in the world who wants to see you unhappy or disappointed. But I think you just have to accept it now. It doesn’t mean that you’ll never marry him,” Megan hastened to add. “But probably not today. It’s just better for everyone if we stop hoping and waiting. We just have to accept it now. I’m really sorry, but it looks like Kyle isn’t coming, Jen.”

  Jennifer shook her head. “I know you all mean well. But I know Kyle will be here. He would never leave me at the altar. We had a horrible fight but . . . he just wouldn’t do that to me. He still loves me. I know it. I know it in my bones, in my heart. In my soul. He’ll be here,” she insisted, looking around at the group. “You don’t have to wait with me if you don’t want to. But I have to wait. Because I promised him I’d marry him today, and I know he’ll come.”

  The certainty in her voice was unmistakable, shocking under the circumstances, Liza thought. Still, she had to admire Jennifer’s trust and the way she believed in the love she and Kyle shared, despite the facts right before her eyes. But Jennifer was looking at the situation with her heart, Liza realized. A quote came to mind, from The Little Prince, a book her aunt had shared with her. It is only with the heart that we can see rightly. What is essential is invisible to the eye. Liza hoped that Jennifer was seeing rightly and the rest of them were seeing only the mere, material facts of the matter. Though at this point, it seemed the material world was about to win out.

  “Is there anything I can bring you? Or anything you’d like me to do now?” Liza asked Sylvia.

  “I can’t think of anything. But thank you,” Sylvia said sadly. “Perhaps you should tell the guests there’s a delay,” she added. “That might be a good idea at this point.”

  “Yes, of course. I’ll do that right away,” Liza promised.

  Liza left the suite feeling great sympathy for everyone in the family, especially Jennifer. But Sylvia was also shouldering her share of the disappointment. After all her fretting and fussing over every small detail, the party was ruined by a completely unpredictable turn of events, one that Sylvia had never expected and had no control over.

  Liza went downstairs and sought out Molly, who had taken over Claire’s kitchen.

  Molly turned from checking a tray in the oven. “The groom is still MIA, huh?”

  “No sign of him yet,” Liza replied. “The family is trying to get Jennifer to call it off, but she insists he’s coming. We need to amuse the guests with more drinks and appetizers. And I need to make an announcement.”

  “Whatever you say. We’ll keep it coming,” Molly told her. “Good luck with your announcement. Keep it short and simple,” she advised.

  Good advice, too, Liza thought. Once Liza was sure that the refreshments were flowing she went over to the musicians. They had set up for the ceremony near the arbor but were not yet playing.

  “I’m going to say a few words to the guests, then you need to play something lively and cheerful. Okay?”

  “No problem. Trouble in paradise?” the bass player asked.

  “Is that the title of a song . . . or are you asking me what’s going on?”

  “A little of both,” the trumpet player answered. “You go ahead. We’ll take our cue.”

  He handed Liza a cordless microphone, and she stared at it a moment, then realized she’d better use it if she wanted to be heard.

  Liza smoothed her dress and stepped up to the front of the rows of seats, which were now filled with the guests. “If I can have everyone’s attention a moment. There’s been a delay in our proceedings today. We’re not quite ready to begin the ceremony. Please enjoy some refreshments and—”

  She was just about to say “music,” when a huge gust of wind blew through the garden. The wooden latticework of the arbor shuddered, and the white fabric panels of the tent fluttered wildly. The wind blew through the dining area under the tent as well, knocking over wineglasses and blowing cloth napkins off the carefully arranged tables. A few of the bow-studded folding chairs toppled over, and a woman’s silk scarf flew through the air and then snagged on a tent pole.

  Another gust blew Liza’s dress flat against her body and nearly pulled her hair from its careful, upswept arrangement. A startled cry went up from the guests. Most of them quickly got up from their chairs and started toward the shelter of the inn.

  The sky grew even darker, as if an invisible curtain had dropped. Guests were hurrying now, the women clutching at their hair and handbags, the men holding down their ties. The folded programs flew about like seabirds, and more folding chairs fell in a chain reaction, like a row of dominoes.

  The tent fabric snapped and flapped again with an ominous sound. Liza actually saw the entire tent rise up a bit, straining at the metal supports and cords that held it in place. Instinctively, she squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them again, the tent was still standing, but she knew it wouldn’t stand for long.

  Fat raindrops began to fall, splattering everything, slowly at first, then falling in wind-driven sheets. Now the guests were in a frenzy, women screaming out in alarm, rushing to get inside as their high heels stuck in the soft grass. The men weren’t much calmer. Everyone seemed alarmed by the shimmying tent.

  “Please go inside. There’s plenty of room,” Liza urged the guests. “There’s a door at the front of the house, too,” she told them, noticing a logjam at the back door.

  She heard a cracking sound somewhere behind her and saw that the wooden arbor was cracked, the old latticework falling apart, a few sections held together by the thick growth of wisteria. Liza couldn’t bear to watch. The beautifully arranged party was being blown to bits.

  She couldn’t worry about it now. She had to get everyone inside. The musicians were the last to head for the inn, carrying their instruments covered by tuxedo jackets.

  But as Liza headed for the door, she saw a strange sight. It was the bride, Jennifer, pushing through the herd of guests and running outside, into the rain.

  What in the world was she doing out here?

  “Jennifer, where are you going? We all need to be inside now.”

  “It’s Kyle. I saw him. Is he down here?”

  Liza reached for her and grabbed her shoulders. The poor girl was so upset, she was imagining things.

  “No, Jen. He’s not here. Please, go back inside.”

  “But I saw him. From the window,” Jennifer insisted. She quickly twisted around, searching the garden, which was a whirlwind of rain and blowing debris.

  Liza tried to hold on to her but Jennifer pulled away, grabbing up her wedding gown and running barefoot across the lawn. Liza saw Frank Bennet and Reverend Ben pushing through the guests to get outside as well. Sylvia stood in the doorway, her hand pressed against her mouth, her eyes wide with anguish.

  Frank Bennet jogged past, slipping on the wet grass in his dressy shoes. “She thinks she saw Kyle,” Liza explained as Reverend Ben followed.

  “I know. We were with her in the bedroom upstair
s when she said she saw him from the window. Just as it began to rain.” He turned to her as he ran to follow Frank Bennet. “I’m going to help Frank. I might be able to calm him down.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Liza said.

  Jennifer was a few yards ahead of her father and had pulled open the garden gate. She ran out on the long gravel drive, chased by her father, Reverend Ben, and Liza.

  Liza ran the fastest of the three and soon passed both men.

  The drive was empty. Everyone, including the catering help, had been driven inside by the rain.

  Jennifer ran past the vans and stopped. She turned and pointed. “See . . . there he is. I told you he’d come.”

  Liza stopped, too. There was a figure standing at the end of the drive—or was she imagining it as well?

  No, there was a man, tall and lean, wearing a hooded sweatshirt and jeans. He pulled off the hood and exposed a head of thick fair hair. It was Kyle. Liza had no doubt about it now.

  “Wait . . . ” Liza called back to Reverend Ben and Mr. Bennet. “It is Kyle. Look, at the end of the drive. He’s here.”

  Frank Bennet caught up with Liza. He looked winded and amazed as he watched his daughter run the rest of the way down the drive to meet her errant fiancé.

  Suddenly, he got his second wind, an angry look on his face. “I have a few things to say to that boy. He can’t just ruin everything, then snap his fingers and have Jennifer come running.”

  Liza didn’t know what to do or say. She was sure that Mr. Bennet’s anger was justified, at least partly. But she was also sure that this was exactly the wrong time for him to interfere with his daughter and her fiancé. Not if he hoped that they would finally get married.

  “Hold on a minute, Frank.” Reverend Ben suddenly appeared and touched Mr. Bennet’s arm.

  Reverend Ben was breathing hard as well but managed to capture Mr. Bennet’s attention.

  “I think you need to just let her go,” Reverend Ben advised. “It’s between the two of them now. And God,” he added.

  Frank turned to the minister a moment, then looked back down the drive. Liza looked, too.