Building a Perfect Match

by Arlene James

  Anderton glared daggers at him, but before anyone could speak, the pianist began to play. Dale looked to the grand piano at the front of the slightly sloping chapel and saw that a young blonde woman in an understated pink gown sat at the instrument, plying it with serious concentration and even greater skill. The music seemed to literally flow from her fingertips. He checked his program, but before he found a name to assign to the musician, Petra leaned her head close to his ear and whispered, “My cousin Lyric. She and her sister, Harmony, will both play.”

  “Ah.”

  Knowing that his mother and sister would want details, Dale took note of the decorations, a profusion of creamy white camellias and pale pink roses, satin ribbon and glimmering netting. He had to admit that the effect was quite pretty, from the huge arrangements placed atop short, Grecian-style columns scattered around the platform at the front of the sanctuary to those gracing the ends of the pews. Dozens of tiny votive candles flickered from the top of the rectangular altar, leaving just enough space for a simple gold cross in the center.

  A door at one side of the front of the church opened, and Hubner Chatam, the elder brother of the triplets and the retired former pastor of the church, walked out in clerical robes, followed by the groom and Magnolia Chatam, attired in what could only be described as a skirted tuxedo. She’d wrapped her head in a coronet of braids into which a spray of pink rosebuds had been tucked. Kent wore a traditional black tuxedo with a pink-and-white-striped vest over a white shirt and pink bow tie.

  Hub took his place before the altar. Both Kent and Magnolia turned to face the back of the church. The doors at the rear of the sanctuary opened. Asher and Reeves Leland, another Chatam nephew, unrolled a white satin aisle cloth before taking seats beside their respective wives.

  Next came Hunter, Garrett’s stepson, and pretty little curly-top Gilli Latimer, Reeve’s daughter, all decked out in frothy pink, her skirts bouncing as she strewed pink rose petals from the basket that Hunter carried. When the small pair reached the altar, Hunter simply upended the basket and dumped the remaining petals in a heap on the gold carpet. Kent chuckled as the children darted off to sit with their parents. Dallas groaned audibly, and Garth shook his head, but Dale exchanged an amused glance with Petra as Magnolia quickly spread the petals with her foot. He found the unrehearsed moments the most fun part of any wedding ceremony, and Petra seemed to share his sentiment.

  Heads turned toward the central aisle again as Hypatia Chatam appeared and began a slow, graceful stroll to the front of the church. Wearing a suit of pale pink satin with a long skirt and a jacket scattered with pearls, she had twisted her silver hair into its usual neat chignon and adorned it with a pearl encrusted comb. In her hands, she carried a small, round bouquet of pink roses and camellias. As Hypatia took her place at the front of the church, the music faded away.

  Utter silence followed while a second young woman joined the first on the piano bench. Hot pink streaked her pale blond, chin-length hair, and she wore a pink and yellow chiffon dress with fingerless net gloves.

  “Twins,” Petra whispered pointedly. “Identical,” she added.

  Dale lifted his eyebrows. “Not when it comes to personal taste,” he muttered from the corner of his mouth, frowning when Garth shushed him. Petra bit her lips against a knowing smile and lightly bumped her shoulder against him as if to say he should pay Garth no mind. Mollified, Dale fixed his attention on the piano.

  Harmony’s unconventional costume did not prevent her from playing the piano every bit as well as her sister. Dale recognized a complicated version of an old hymn, “Just As I Am,” an unusual choice for a wedding, to be sure.

  At the start of the chorus, Kent broke into a wide smile, and the gathering rose as one to turn toward the aisle. Odelia Chatam stood in the open doorway on the arm of a tall, slender, dignified man of middle age. His thick, yellow-white hair had been brushed straight back from his high forehead, and he wore his tuxedo with an ivory white cummerbund and tie that perfectly matched Odelia’s dress. Dale barely noticed. He was stunned by Odelia Chatam.

  He’d seen Odelia in some outrageous getups, but this…this was downright glamorous.

  Her white hair had been curled into a froth held back from her face by an ivory satin headband to which an organza camellia, set with rhinestones, had been affixed, just above her right ear. Sparkling silver chains hung from her earlobes, anchored on each end by sizable diamonds. Around her throat, she wore a strand of pearls with a heart-shaped diamond clasp. The fitted satin bodice featured a high, square neckline and a lace overlay that turned into long sleeves, which flared elegantly at the wrists. A column of lace tiers comprised the long skirt. Across her body draped a wide satin sash, beauty-queen style, attached at the left shoulder with a satin flower at least six inches wide. In her hands, she carried a teardrop-shaped bouquet of camellias.

  Odelia may have waited fifty years to be a bride, but no bride of any age had ever looked more radiant. Dale had rarely seen the woman when she wasn’t smiling, but today she literally glowed. As she strolled down the aisle, Kent puffed up with such pride that Dale began to fear he would lift off like a helium balloon.

  “Someone should tie an anchor to the groom,” he muttered to Petra, smiling.

  When she failed to reply, he glanced at her, and was shocked to see tears rolling from her eyes. Dallas reached past Garth to offer Petra a tissue. She took it with one hand and slipped the other through the crook of Dale’s elbow, following Odelia with her gaze. Catching a movement from the corner of his eye, Dale half turned to find that Garth had lifted a comforting hand to Petra’s shoulder. She tossed Anderton a tight smile and dropped her hand from Dale’s arm. Dale resisted the urge to proclaim that Petra was his and pop Anderton on the end of his nose with a fist.

  Hub Chatam gave the guests leave to sit. As soon as they did so, he intoned, “We are gathered here to join in holy wedlock Kent Hollister Monroe and Odelia Mae Chatam. Who gives the bride in marriage?”

  Her escort answered, “Her brothers and sisters.” Then he placed Odelia’s hand in Kent’s and stepped back to take a seat beside a woman who looked remarkably like Petra, despite the gray streaking her shoulder-length blond hair.

  Kaylie Chatam Gallow, Petra’s cousin, rose and moved to a small lectern near the piano. Opening a book on the lectern, she began to read in a clear, lilting voice, Shakespeare’s twenty-second sonnet. “‘My glass shall not persuade me I am old. So long as youth and thou are of one date…’”

  Petra dabbed at her cheeks with the tissue, looking so achingly beautiful that Dale couldn’t take his eyes off her long enough to concentrate on the verse. When Kaylie finished, Bayard, Kaylie’s brother, got up and moved to the lectern. He had often sung at Downtown Bible Church when his father, Hub, had been pastor here, but it had been years since Dale had last heard him. He did not disappoint, singing in a towering tenor that mesmerized everyone.

  When the song ended, Odelia sniffed, and Kent, true to form, instantly whipped out a handkerchief the size of a tablecloth. She giggled, which produced a ripple of laughter among the guests. Even Hypatia chuckled. Petra laughed aloud, and that made Dale smile and squeeze her hand.

  Morgan, another of Kaylie’s brothers, got up and read a long selection from the Book of Ruth. Then Hubner once again took center stage, asking the traditional questions and receiving the traditional replies of “I do.” Then he announced that the couple had prepared their own vows. Dale felt the crowd draw a collective breath as they waited to hear what these two would say. Odelia passed her bouquet to Hypatia and gave her hands to Kent, who spoke first.

  “My darling,” he said in a voice gravelly with emotion, “fifty years is not too long to wait for you. I would wait another fifty if I must, but I am so very grateful that I won’t have to! Before God and these witnesses, I promise to be a faithful, true and considerate husband a
nd to shower you with all the love the human heart can hold. In sickness and in health, poverty or wealth, joy or sorrow, I will never willingly leave your side ’til death do us part. I give you my solemn vow.”

  Magnolia produced a ring, which he then slid onto Odelia’s finger. She made a noise about it, sighing, “So beautiful!” Then it was her turn.

  “I have loved but one man in my life with the love that a wife might feel for her husband,” she said, gazing into his eyes. “It has always been you. I will always love you so, and before God and these witnesses, I promise to be ever at your side, faithful and true, no matter what comes, ’til death do us part. I give you my solemn vow.”

  Petra gave a little laughing sob as Odelia removed a ring from her thumb and fit it onto Kent’s finger, with some effort and several giggles. Dale reached over and laid a hand over her wrist, receiving a tremulous smile in return. Had she envisioned, as he had, the two of them standing there? She glanced away, and he realized Garth had taken her hand on the other side. Dale pulled back, doing his best to tamp down his temper as Hub spoke a short but eloquent prayer before lifting his gaze on the couple standing before him.

  “And now,” he said, raising his right hand, “as you have consented before our Heavenly Father and these witnesses to love, honor and cherish one another, I pronounce you husband and wife. Go and walk in the grace of Christ Jesus. Amen.” He then leaned forward slightly and said to Kent, “You may kiss your bride.”

  Kent framed Odelia’s beaming face with his hands, tilted his head and kissed her. And kissed her. She wrapped her hands around his wrists, and still he kissed her. Magnolia rolled her eyes, and Hypatia cleared her throat. Several of the guests began to chuckle. Petra laughed, tears streaming down her face.

  Finally, Hubner muttered, “I believe that will do,” at which point Kent at last raised his head.

  “I have waited fifty years for that,” he proclaimed loudly. “I meant to get fifty years of joy from it.”

  Odelia threw her arms around him with a happy cry, and the crowd erupted with teary laughter.

  Hub spread his arms and announced, “It is my pleasure to present to you Mr. and Mrs. Kent Monroe.”

  Everyone in the room leapt to their feet and began to applaud. Kent looked as if he’d won the lottery, while Odelia gazed up at him adoringly.

  As the happy couple left the room, Kent strutting as proudly as a peacock while Odelia clung to his arm and bounced with giggles, Dallas leaned forward far enough to catch her sister’s eye. “Have you ever seen anyone so happy?”

  “No,” Petra admitted. “You were right about them.”

  Dallas gave Garth a strangely satisfied smile that alarmed Dale. Was Dallas promoting a match between her sister and Garth Anderton? Or did she consider the match already made? Had he read too much into Petra’s intention to introduce him to her parents? Even if he hadn’t misread her, he conceded silently, it was possible that things had changed since Garth’s return to town. Dale had not one shred of doubt that Anderton had been doggedly, carefully grooming her to be his next conquest. He had assumed, however, that Petra was too smart and independent to fall for Anderton’s charm.

  A few moments later, the last of the wedding procession passed, and Dale stepped out into the aisle. He turned and moved back, making room for Petra to step out in front of him. Quickly crowding forward again, he made sure that Anderton could not squeeze in ahead of him and followed Petra up the packed aisle.

  “Wasn’t it beautiful?” she asked as they reached the vestibule, glancing back over her shoulder.

  Not as beautiful as you, he thought, taking in her knee-length dress and spike heels. Before he could speak, however, Dallas was suddenly there, reminding her sister that they were to ride to the reception with their brother Phillip. Nodding, Petra turned to Dale.

  Go with me, he started to say, anxious to have her to himself for a few minutes at least, but he only got the first word out before Dallas dragged Petra away, proclaiming that their mother wanted them back at Chatam House before everyone else. Dale watched them disappear into the throng, his spirits diving.

  He made his way out of the building with agonizing slowness, then fought his way through the traffic to Chatam House. Guests packed the place by the time he got inside the building. The wedding gifts were being stored in the cloakroom, and he actually had to stand in line to get to the door. Once there, the uniformed girl who’d taken the gift asked for his name. She looked down a list before pointing to a diagram of the ballroom with circles drawn in to represent dining tables and triangles to represent chairs.

  “You’re at table number three, Mr. Bowen, Seat H.”

  He thanked the attendant and made his way down the east corridor to the first of two sets of wide open doors.

  Music played softly. At first, he assumed it was a recording, until he turned his head and saw that the Chatam triplets had booked a small chamber orchestra for the occasion. The black-clad performers sat between two baby grand pianos arranged upon a small stage at one end of the room. A section of movable wall had been pushed back so they could be seen. Huge flower arrangements atop four-foot-tall columns flanked the stage. Similar arrangements stood along the walls and in the far corners. Every table in the room, at least two dozen, bore flowers, including the cake table, where a four-tiered cake dripping with sugar camellias and a large sheet cake entirely covered in pink sugar rosebuds, each with a strawberry at its center, sat on display.

  The wedding party stood in a receiving line before a table placed near the wall between the doors to the room, with the laughing newlyweds at its center. Dale dutifully stood in line, inching closer as others made their best wishes known to the happy couple.

  While he waited, he scanned the room for Petra. Failing to find her, he looked for table three instead. A few moments later, he shook hands with Kent and pressed a dry kiss to Odelia’s plump cheek, then went to find his chair.

  He sat alone at the table for some time, until Hubner Chatam went to a microphone and spoke a blessing on the meal about to be served. An army of white-coated waiters with pink cummerbunds immediately brought out appetizers of shrimp cocktail. Finally, the others came—first Asher and Ellie, Kent’s granddaughter, then Dallas and a very tall, slender, dark-haired fellow whom Dale remembered from the church. He introduced himself as, “Phillip Chatam, the other brother.”

  “What are you doing at this table?” Dallas demanded of Dale, frowning.

  Taken aback, Dale spread his hands. “All I know is that the girl in the cloakroom told me this is my seat assignment.”

  Dallas turned a critical eye on the table. “Nine! That’s going to be a squeeze.”

  “I suppose we’ll just have to manage,” said an all-too-familiar voice. Dale turned, greeting Anderton with a frown.

  “I thought you were supposed to be in Colorado.”

  “On the contrary,” Anderton said with a cheeky grin. “I wouldn’t miss this special evening for anything.”

  Petra arrived with her parents just then. She seemed surprised to see Dale at the table, but quickly introduced him to Maryanne and Murdock Chatam before allowing him to seat her on his immediate left. To Dale’s relief, Anderton found his place card across the table, next to Dallas.

  Dale didn’t much like that the Chatams seemed well acquainted with Garth, and he actively disliked the manner in which Garth said to Petra’s parents, “Dale is the junior half of Bowen & Bowen Construction, the contractors on the hotel renovation.”

  “And he handled the renovation here at Chatam House, too,” Dallas put in, adding meaningfully, “himself.”

  Dale refrained from so much as glancing in her direction, but he felt that dig sharply. His heart warmed when Petra came immediately to his defense.

  “Dale is an excellent carpenter and an expert in antique buildi
ng methods. In fact, he has a degree in archaeology.”

  “Not exactly,” he corrected. “My degree is in history with an emphasis in archaeology. I decided against the advanced degree.”

  “And why is that?” Petra’s mother asked.

  “I thought about teaching, but I’m a hands-on kind of guy,” Dale explained forthrightly, “which is why I considered archaeology, but then my father became ill, so I came home to help with the family business.”

  “And what is your father’s diagnosis?” asked Murdock Chatam, the physician.

  “Ventricular fibrillation brought on by physical exhaustion.”

  “I see. There are excellent treatments available now,” Murdock said. “They ought to be able to manage his symptoms, provided he doesn’t continue to overdo.”

  “Which is exactly why I’m here,” Dale pointed out, “to take as much off him as I can.”

  “Dale hopes his father will retire once the hotel renovation is completed,” Petra supplied.

  “Is that likely?” Murdock asked.

  “Maybe,” Dale answered. Looking at Petra he added, “If we can secure the right help, I think he can be persuaded.”

  Dale knew the perfect person for the job. He was staring at her. He had in mind a very permanent position, one he had prayed about for many hours. He could only hope that she would eventually find the arrangement to her liking.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The second course arrived, a salad. Anderton attempted to monopolize the conversation by bragging on Petra.

  “Speaking of the right help,” he began, addressing Murdock and Maryanne, “you’ll be happy to know that your daughter has done a smash-up job thus far.” He went on to detail much of Petra’s work, summing up with, “I have no doubt that she’ll be an excellent manager once the Anderton Vail is open for business.”