Providence: On Angels' Wings
Page 36
With our vows and “I will’s” spoken in front of our guests and God, I place on her finger a simple wedding band that fits snug against her mother’s three-stone diamond ring. And since I have already tattooed a permanent band on my finger, when it’s her turn, she simply takes my ring finger and rubs her thumb over the tattoo.
As a symbol of our unity, we each take a small glass container of sand and simultaneously pour the intermingled contents into one larger glass. I gaze into her hazel-green eyes and smile. We are one. No matter how you shake the glass, there is no way to separate my sand grains from hers. And it feels right and complete, the way a marriage should be.
“I now pronounce you man and wife,” the pastor announces. “You may kiss your bride.”
Cupping my hands on her cheeks, I lift her chin and press my lips against hers, feeling her moist lips tightening as a smile spreads from ear to ear at the whoops and hollers coming from our guests. Twining our fingers together, we stand at the edge of the stage.
“I present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Alexander Addison.”
The Gift
Staring through the glass, I focus on the one in the pale pink with a few light-brown curls spilling out. I blink and the background fades. All I see is my reflection in the window. My hair is tousled and gray shadows fall under my eyes. My gray and white, pin-striped dress shirt is unbuttoned, revealing my white V-neck undershirt, and it’s half hanging out of my black slacks. My arm is wrapped around Providence’s waist as she leans heavily against me, resting her head on my chest. Her hair is still damp from her shower and hangs in a twirled clump over her shoulder. Similar gray shadows have formed under her eyes, and she yawns. I rub my hand up and down her back, feeling the soft terry cloth of her white robe.
The hours of waiting for this very moment have sparked a flood of memories: my first day here, standing in the park, staring out at the curvy river; the first time I came to Providence, when she was sitting on the floor against the wall, wearing the oversized sweatshirt that hung off her shoulder; meeting Summer, Avery, and Linc, even though my visit with Linc was brief; the smile I know crossed my face when I saw Providence wearing her cloud pajamas; watching Providence, Taylor, and Lily dance and sing at the rave; holding Providence’s chilled body on my lap in the loft; taking walks with her up to the park to watch the planes; my flying trips with Grant and Leo; dancing down the aisles at Target and our first trip to the car wash, which we have repeated several times since we’ve been married—and I look forward to our next; when I flew Providence to the roof of the tiara building and asked her to marry me and felt her nose on my neck as she curled her body tight against mine mid-flight; passing the bar exam, Luke making me a partner at the firm, and winning my first court case; when Providence and I gave ourselves to each other on that lovely blue-skied day in Eden Park, surrounded by red, orange, and yellow tulips and calla lilies; the night of our wedding, when our warm bare bodies were inseparable and there wasn’t even space for air between us, and we both experienced wonders only a loving God could create; resting on the cement bench at the park with Providence’s head lying in my lap as I drew heart shapes on her increased tummy; and the first moment I felt the flutter of our child through the thin wall of her stomach.
I dwell for awhile on that time when I considered requesting a reassignment. My life has changed drastically since then, and a huge part of me knows that even though I said it was a consideration, it wasn’t. It’s always been Providence.
My memories of the storm, the desert, and the fall have faded over the past two years. But every day I look at my right hand and see the open infinity tattoo and every day I’m thankful for the decision I made and pray for His forgiveness and do everything in my power to act in a manner that deserves His love. And every day I experience it, in the rising sun, the blue skies, the green trees, the smile on my bride’s face, the feel of her soft skin in my arms, and the ache in my heart that always yearns to be close to her.
This life isn’t without its challenges, though. The human body is a fragile thing. And some days it’s easy to fall into brokenness, to want to take the easy way instead of the right way, to question and to doubt. And those are the days that we pick each other up and put each other back together and pray for that which we cannot do on our own, which is sometimes easier said than done. But I’ve learned a powerful lesson from all of this: we are never beyond redemption.
I gaze through the window at the tiny rectangular bed labeled:Baby Addison and I know she represents living proof of absolutely that.
“I love you,” I say, breaking our long silence.
Providence turns her head up to me, smiles, rises up on her toes, pressing her lips against mine, and replies, “And I love you.”
“She’s beautiful.” I exhale.
Her face is pale-skinned and heart-shaped like Providence’s and a few light brown curls peek out from under her pale-pink, knit hat.
“Look.” Providence puts her finger on the glass. “She has teal-green eyes!” She gasps as our daughter peels her eyes open for the first time.
I wrap my arms around Providence, firmly holding her back to my chest as a tear drops from the corner of my eye, and I kiss the top of her head.
“What should we name her?” she whispers, laying her palm flat on the glass window, ready to touch our daughter and cradle her in her arms.
“Grace.”
There is a first for everything, and this is one of mine.
Acknowledgment
I wanted to take a moment to convey a special thank-you to a few special supporters for their encouragement and honest feedback. I so, so appreciate each of you for being the guinea pigs in my first attempt at writing a novel.
Dad: Thank you for putting down your typical action-packed novel and being the first to read and finish my young adult love story featuring an angel. It meant so much that you would invest the time to do that for me.
Mom: Thank you for taking the first cut at editing my work and reminding me of a few rules of the English language. I appreciate your attention to detail and I thank you for not picking it apart too much.
Colleen: Thank you for reading (with a magnifying glass) my manuscript (printed in the smallest font possible) and providing such great feedback. I appreciate your encouragement. I very much enjoyed listening to your perspective. Next time I’ll write a choose-your-own-ending book.
Jon: Thank you for connecting me with the great folks at Advantage. I doubt this novel would have been published without your help.
To the Advantage family—Alison, Brooke, Denis, Kim, the editing and design teams—thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you for stepping outside your normal genre. Thank you for believing in me and appreciating my work. Thank you for making this process so easy. And thank you for helping me bring my story to life.
Lastly, to my wonderful husband, thank you for supporting me throughout this entire endeavor including every late night when I told you “just five more minutes,” knowing that I really meant an hour. Thank you for swerving around bumps while I was writing in the car, and thank you for not scolding me for writing in church.
Sorry, Brian and Chuck, but often your weekend messages inspired me and the Crossroads coffee helped.
Barry, I truly appreciate your encouragement.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual
events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2012 by Lauren Wynn
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without prior written consent of the author, except as provided by the United States of America copyright law.
ISBN: 978-159932-351-0
LCCN: 2012945823
Cover designed by Advantage Media Group
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Lauren Wynn, Providence: On Angels' Wings