Andy says if I can just do this, I can walk someday, he reminded himself. And, all of a sudden, he had it, he was standing there, straight up like a fence post, and his legs were supporting him.
“Hey!” he said out loud to no one. “Look at me! Look at this!” That’s when he realized he had to show somebody. He started hollering as loud as he could. “Mom! Mom! Mom! Quick!”
She came running into his room, still in her nightgown, with her hair all loose and tangled around her shoulders and she looked scared. “Honey? Are you okay?” Then she saw him, and he thought her eyes might pop out of her head. “Cody!”
“I’m doing it!” he shouted at her. “Happy Wedding Day present! I’m doing it!”
“Cody.” She ran to him and bundled him up into her arms and he had no idea why she had tears pouring down all over her face. “Oh, Cody!”
“It’s your present for today. I’m going to show Dad, too, when he gets here.”
“You do that,” she said, still crying. “He won’t believe it. He’ll be just as proud of you as I am.”
“I’m standing—I’m standing—I’m standing—” he said over and over and over again.
“You’re tall,” Jennie said. “I’ll bet you’ve grown three inches at least!” She hugged him. “You did it, Cody,” she kept saying. “You did it! You did it!”
“I did!” Cody hollered, throwing his head back and letting it sink in at last. “I did! I did! I did!” He raised one fist and waved it in the air for all of them, a little fist that signaled an enormous victory.
And that was the way the day started.
Someone, one of their many friends who wanted to make a big celebration out of this wedding, had twisted miles and miles of pink crepe paper along the white corral fences. Someone else had tied a huge satin bow on the front door. Michael and Jennie both wanted the service to be small and simple. But their friends were elated. People brought so much food that the tables were absolutely groaning.
It seemed two o’clock would never arrive. But, by one-fifteen, guests started turning into the driveway. “Hi, Mark!” Cody cried as Mark Kendall climbed out of his car. “Where’s Andy?”
“She’ll be along in a few minutes. She’s coming with Buddy. He stopped by her place to pick her up.”
“Buddy?” Cody asked. “Buddy Draper’s coming? Wow!”
Marge Josephs came next, carrying a huge bouquet of rosebuds from her garden. They were the exact, delicate color of an eggshell. “These are for Jennie,” she said after she’d hugged Michael. “Can I take them up?”
“Sure,” he said, giving her one more squeeze. She looked good. Her eyes shone bright and her hair glowed like silver filigree in the sunlight. “They’re beautiful.”
“They’re from Bill’s garden.” She smiled, a bittersweet smile full of love. “He planted them several years ago. They keep coming back.”
“How are you feeling?”
She answered honestly. “I’m getting a little better every day. My grandkids are sure keeping me busy.”
“Good.” He squeezed her forearm. “Grandkids are just what the doctor orders.” He glanced up at the window where he knew Jennie waited. “You be sure and tell her those are from Bill.”
“I will.”
Marge hurried off and the minister drove up. It was time for the service to begin. From just beneath the tree, a college girl they’d hired began to play the Wedding March on a lovely old harp. As Michael bid a brief farewell to his friends, he looked around quickly for his best man.
There he was, sitting in his wheelchair beside the harp, dressed in a black tuxedo just his size, exactly the same as his father’s. “You ready for this, kiddo?” He winked. “It’s time to go stand by the minister.”
“I’m ready,” Cody said, rolling his wheelchair toward the makeshift altar, his crutches lying across his knees.
“You’re sure?” Michael asked.
“I’m sure,” Cody answered.
“If you get tired, we’ll stop the ceremony and you can sit back down.”
They’d planned it all today at lunch, when Cody had presented the wedding present to his father, too. He parked his wheelchair in the appointed spot and, with Michael gripping his elbow, he stood, proud and tall beside his father.
As the harpist strummed softly, out stepped Jennie.
Michael had never seen her look more beautiful than she did at that moment, standing in the sun, as she beamed and waved at Cody. She wore a beige satin dress that fell in a straight sheath to the floor, with miniature beige orchids woven into a circlet atop her head. She looked like an angel as she stepped forward, her dress trailing in the lush grass, and came to stand beside them.
“Dearly beloved…” The minister began the vows. Jennie took Michael’s hand and squeezed it.
“Love you,” she mouthed to both of them.
“Me, too,” Michael mouthed back.
When the minister called for the rings, Cody held on to the tree trunk for support and handed his father the ring. “Here you go, Dad,” he whispered proudly. “Put this on her.”
And, as Michael slipped the wedding ring onto the finger of the woman he loved, the years seemed to sear together in his mind, how he’d wanted Jennie then, how he loved her now.
How much God had blessed them all. How grateful Michael would always be.
He met her eyes and repeated the age-old words, meaning, feeling, every one of them. “For better,” which they’d had. “For worse,” which they’d had, too.
“In sickness and in health.” Perhaps, for now, it would be health. Dr. Phillips had recently confirmed it.
Cody wouldn’t need the surgery.
“For richer and for poorer.”
“As long as we both shall live,” the minister prompted.
Michael gazed down at the woman who stood before him now, at the mother of his son, and he felt as if he’d already loved her forever. Perhaps he had.
He could see the reflection of all he needed in her clear, gray eyes. “As long as we both shall live,” he repeated.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-1444-0
FAMILY MATTERS
This is the revised text of the work, which was first published by Harlequin Enterprises Limited in 1993.
Copyright © 1993 by Deborah Pigg Bedford
Revised text copyright © 2008 by Deborah Pigg Bedford
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Family Matters Page 20
