by Joyce Magnin
"I can," Sally said. "But you got to know, some of them, especially that one tall woman—"
"Edie Tompkins," I said.
"Is complaining about the cold and says she'll watch from the window."
"That's fine. I suppose the heartier of the bunch can sit outside, the rest can wait in the Sunshine Room—but don't feed them until we're all there."
"Right," Sally said.
Ruth retrieved her snipping scissors from the little sewing basket she brought. She sat on the edge of the bed and set to work on the sleeve. I wrapped a blanket around Agnes.
"You'll never believe who I saw in the hallway?"
"Santa Claus?" Agnes said.
I looked at her and wrinkled my brow not sure if she was joking or not. "Not exactly. Leon Fontaine."
"I was right," Agnes said. "You did see Santa."
"Really?" Ruth said. "Did you talk to him? Should you call Mildred or the State Police?"
"No, I decided not to call anyone. It's my wedding day. It's Christmas Eve and besides no one will catch him."
I saw Agnes lift her hand slightly as in a wave toward the window.
"He gave a very elderly woman some water. It was amazing. She straightened right up and smiled wider than all outdoors."
I moved toward the window. "Agnes, did you just wave to someone?"
She shook her head. "Course not. No one is out there."
"Do you think he gave water to everyone?" Ruth said.
"Not sure," I said, still looking out the window.
But our question was answered just a few seconds later when I heard Christmas Carols blare through the PA system and residents scurrying around outside.
Eula Spitwell poked her head in the room, "Is this where the wedding is to be?"
"No," I said. "At the gazebo."
"Hot-diggity," Eula said. "I'm goin' to a weddin'. Will Mickey Mantle be there? I'd like to pet the doggie again."
"Sorry," I said. "But I don't think so."
Eula bolted down the hallway, while I closed Agnes's door. "I think we should keep people out of here and let Sally and the other nurses handle the guests.
27
All done," Ruth said. She shook out the blouse and picked a couple of stray threads off of it. "Let's get this on you now."
"OK," Agnes said. "I'm sorry to be a bother."
"You're not a bother," I said as I pulled off the blanket and tossed it on the bed.
Ruth and I pulled the blouse over her head. Then we pushed her thick arms through the sleeves.
"Much better," Ruth said. "Except now, Agnes, I need you to stand up so I can clasp and tie and get you looking right."
"Oh, all right," Agnes said. Her voiced had reverted to her little girl voice. It made me close my eyes for a second.
"OK," I said grabbing her walker. I placed it in front of her.
"Do you think you can do it, or should I get an aide?"
"I can do it."
"OK." I slipped my arms under Agnes's armpits. "Ruth, you get behind her and push a little. When she's up, come around front and help keep her steady until she gets her footing."
"One, two, three." I pulled, Ruth pushed and Agnes lifted herself up. She wobbled a second or two and then grabbed her walker.
"Get steady," I said.
"I . . . I am, Griselda. I think I'm steady now."
"OK." I let go.
Ruth set to work, and in a few minutes, there my sister stood in her red maid-of-honor outfit, hat and all. I pinned a corsage of red poinsettias on her tremendous chest. Then I adjusted the sprigs of holly with red berries on her hat.
"You look so pretty," I said. I wiped tears from the corner of my eyes.
"Can I sit now?" Agnes asked.
"Do you still want to walk down the aisle?" I asked.
"Sure do, Griselda. This is your wedding day. Jesus will be walking right beside me, holding me as I go. Don't you worry."
And that was when I saw my own image of Jesus, walking beside me down the aisle. I had been sad about not having my father to do that honor. But I had my heavenly father. He said he'd be a father to the fatherless. I smiled at the image and decided to keep it with me—in private.
"The Holly and the Ivy" drifted through the loud speaker. Another knock on the door. It was Sally again.
"Thought you'd want to know that Zeb just arrived. He looks so . . . well, handsome, Griselda. I didn't know you could get a green tux with a red shirt. And he's wearing the sweetest green velvet bow tie."
I swallowed and surprised myself by laughing. Agnes, though, must have thought the image was hysterical and busted into a belly laugh. She slapped her knee.
"And oh," Sally said. "You look pretty, Agnes."
I looked at the clock. "Eleven-thirty. We better hurry."
"Won't take me but a minute," Ruth said. "She unveiled her dress. It matched Agnes's except it was one piece. She slipped it on easily. I zipped it up the back and helped pin her poinsettia corsage.
Then they both looked at me like I was about to go in for brain surgery.
"Now it's your turn," Ruth said. She unwrapped my dress and held it up. "This is so pretty, Griselda. Just perfect for a Christmas wedding."
"It is sweet," Agnes said. She started to blubber.
"Don't, don't cry now," Ruth said. "You'll get all red-faced and puffy."
Ruth and I looked at each other and then Agnes burst out laughing. "Yeah? So? How could anyone tell?"
The levity helped and I slipped my dress over my head.
"I still don't know why you didn't get your hair done this morning." Ruth said as she zipped me up. "But I'll do something with it. You have pretty hair, getting a little gray here and there, but that's to be expected."
"I thought I'd pull a comb through it and maybe you could put it up, you know, like in a bun or—"
"Beehive?" Ruth said. "I don't believe we have the time and I didn't bring any hair spray."
"I'm certain someone around here has a can," Agnes said.
"Whatever you can do, Ruth," I said.
"OK, OK." Ruth opened her purse and pulled out a brush. "Let me see." She started pulling and twisting and teasing while my stomach started churning, flopping, and making embarrassing sounds.
"I'm sorry," I said.
"Don't have time to worry about body noises," Ruth said. "Agnes, call for the spray net."
Agnes wheeled toward her bed and squeezed a small rubber bulb on the end of a wire. A few seconds later Sally opened the door. It was almost like she was waiting for the call.
"Can I help you?" she asked.
"You surely can," Ruth said, not looking at her. "I need a can of hair spray and twenty-seven bobby pins and a rat-tail comb, stat!"
"Right away," Sally said, and off she went.
Ruth pulled and tugged on my hair. "Ow. Ow," I said. "That hurts a little."
"No time to mollycoddle. You're getting hitched, and I got to get all this hair piled up on top of your head and then make it stay there for the duration."
"Of my marriage?"
"No, the wedding."
Agnes laughed. "Griselda, I can't remember a time when you allowed anyone to do your hair. Except the one time when Mama put a million curls into it. You looked like Little Orphan Annie. You remember that?"
"I do." I winced from the pain in my scalp. "I was so embarrassed I refused to go to school."
Sally returned. "Here you go. Aqua Net, bobby pins, and one rat-tail comb."
"Put them on the tray table please," Ruth said.
Sally stood near.
"Comb," Ruth said with hand out.
Sally placed the comb in Ruth's palm.
She fussed a little. I couldn't see what in the world she was doing. And frankly, I didn't want to. But I could feel my hair getting bigger and taller by the second.
"Bobby pin," Ruth said.
Sally obliged.
"Again," Ruth said.
This went on for a few minutes until Ruth asked for th
e spray net. She sprayed all around my head and a small cloud enveloped me. It smelled a bit like alcohol and lilacs.
"That should hold," Ruth said. "What do you think, nurse?"
Sally touched my hair. "I agree."
I touched my hair. It felt like it had been shellacked. I found the top and it seemed to be about nine maybe ten inches high.
"Go on," Ruth said. "Take a gander at yourself." But then she pressed on my shoulders before I could stand. She dug deep into her handbag, which was the size of a bed pillow. "This won't do."
She fussed in my hair a few more seconds and said, "Now take a look."
I stood and peered at myself in Agnes's mirror. My hair had been wrapped in a tight beehive. Ruth pinned a large red bow on the front.
"I look . . . ridiculous. I look like a Christmas tree."
"No, you don't," Agnes said. "You look very pretty. Wait until Zeb gets a look at you."
I took a deep breath and blew it out. "There's not time for anything different now. It's five after twelve."
The view from the window was astounding. Nearly every chair was taken by someone from Bright's Pond or Paradise. I saw Boris and Asa, Charlotte, Rose, Ginger Rodgers, and Harriet Nurse. Ivy even wore a dress. She sat on the end with Mickey Mantle by her side.
"I can't believe she brought that dog," Ruth said.
"It's OK," I said. "I think it's funny . . . and sweet."
Sally moved toward the door. "I guess I better get going."
"Are you coming?" I asked.
"Are you inviting me?"
"Sure. Can you get away for a few minutes?"
"I sure can."
Agnes grabbed my hand. "Griselda, I . . . just want to say before we go out there, that I love you. I'm very proud of you and . . . and thank you."
"Thank you?"
"For taking care of me. Even when I didn't really deserve it sometimes."
"You're my sister," I said. "I will always take care of you. I love you."
I kissed her cheek. She pulled me close.
"Come on," Ruth said. "The guests are turning into popsicles out there." She gave me my bouquet of poinsettias.
Ruth pushed Agnes. I followed behind. When we got outside the room, residents were lined up along the walls. Clyde, the orderly was there also. I called him over.
"You look so pretty," he said.
"Would you go and tell them we're ready?"
"Sure."
I took another breath.
"Good luck," shouted Eula Spitwell.
"God bless," said Clive Dickens who was standing with his bride. She blew me a kiss.
My heart pounded, but that was OK.
"Here we go," I said. "Here we go."
I expected to hear the traditional wedding march when Clyde opened the doors. But instead I heard "Pomp and Circumstance" blaring over the PA system.
"I'm sorry, Griselda," Clyde said. "We couldn't find the right record. This was the closest we could get."
"It's OK," I said. "It's fine."
Ruth pushed Agnes to the start of the white carpet and stopped. "Now wait until we get all the way down there before you start down. And remember walk slowly."
"Right. Got it."
Clyde helped Agnes out of the chair.
"You sure?" I asked. "It's not that far but—"
"I can do it," Agnes said. "And no walker."
I think I might have gasped, but I could see it in her eyes. "Agnes will walk down the aisle on her own steam."
Clyde followed behind with the chair just in case she had to sit down.
Ruth followed Clyde. She looked so nice in her red dress with the white poinsettia corsage. She walked slowly. But I knew the scene only made her miss her Hubby Bubby.
I looked down the aisle and saw Zeb standing with Studebaker. Zeb was looking right at me. He smiled so wide I thought his face might break.
I waited until Ruth was all the way down. Agnes had sat down in the chair.
Just as I took my first step the music changed to Bing Crosby crooning "White Christmas" and the flurries started falling again. I felt tears well in my eyes and I sailed a prayer amid the snowflakes thanking God for Zeb and friends who would sit outside on folding chairs at a nursing home on Christmas Eve.
28
I took the first step down the aisle, and at first, I was caught off guard by the noise of seats moving as all our guests stood. Then I needed to swipe at tears when I realized they were standing for me. I was amazed and humbled all at the same time even if it was tradition. It still felt like it was the absolute first time any group had stood for a bride. I walked slowly like Ruth told me to. I looked from side to side nodding at people, making eye contact, and trying to remember to smile. Edie and Bill looked happy and smiled. Janeen and Frank Sturgis seemed proud to know me. Frank held his Super 8 movie camera cradled in the crook of his arm as though filming the bride making her entrance was somehow off limits.
Cliff was not there, and it made me feel sad for just a second or two. Like Leon Fontaine, Cliff had disappeared. About two-thirds of the way down I looked at Zeb and never took my eyes off of him.
When I reached the last row of chairs, I saw Pastor Speedwell nod to Zeb. He joined me. I slipped my arm in his, and we took the last few steps together. I smiled at Agnes and Ruth and Studebaker. Pastor raised his arms and then lowered them— a signal for the congregation to sit.
"Join your right hands," Pastor said.
And suddenly the cold went away and all I could feel was the warmth of Zeb's hand holding mine. Although to be honest, it was difficult not to whisper to him about his choice of tux.
Pastor Speedwell looked out over the crowd. "Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here in this—" he looked around at the twinkling lights and the mistletoe. "Beautiful place to join Zeb and Griselda in holy matrimony."
Zeb's palm went sweaty but I only held tighter. We looked into each other's eyes.
"If there is anyone here who knows any reason why this union should not take place let him speak now or forever hold his tongue."
A distinct hush fell over the crowd. I could feel the people looking around, waiting for someone—Eugene Shrapnel, who I saw sitting in the back, or even Agnes—to speak. But all was still.
Pastor spoke a few more words on the sanctity and mystery of marriage, about two people becoming one, and about miracles in general. We exchanged vows as the snow began to fall harder.
"The ring, please," Pastor said.
Studebaker handed him the gold bands we picked out. Pastor gave the ring to Zeb.
"With this ring," Zeb said as he slipped it onto my finger, "I thee wed."
Next Pastor Speedwell took the ring from Agnes. She smiled at me. And I at her.
"With this ring," I said. "I thee wed."
Pastor Speedwell smiled. "And now I pronounce you husband and wife." He looked up at the sprig of mistletoe and then back at us. "Go on, kiss your bride."
Zeb and I kissed. But it was more like a peck. A quick acknowledgment. And that was OK.
Then we turned, and I looked out over the guests. They applauded as we walked down the aisle holding hands, married, husband and wife.
The walk back to the Sunshine Room was the happiest walk of my life. Residents still lined the halls, a few holding IV carts, most in pajamas or robes, yet all with smiles as Zeb and I made our way to the reception. There had been talk of a receiving line but both Zeb and I felt that would be a little too much.
"Nah," Zeb said. "Let's just mill around, you know mingle and greet people like that."
"That sounds good," I said. "I don't think I'd like to stand and shake hands and hug like I was the Queen of England or something."
The day was still overcast and gray so the lights were on in the room giving the place a kind of odd yellow glow. But the Greenbrier kitchen lady, Babs, set about lighting the candles in the center of all the tables while Zeb and I waited for our guests to arrive. The plan was to hold them back until we were settled. The
n Agnes arrived and took her place next to me, Ruth popped her head into the room. "Woo hoo," she said. "Congratulations."
Studebaker, who pushed Agnes into the room, sat next to Zeb. He slapped Zeb's back making him lurch forward and nearly knock over a water glass. "You did it, Old Man," Stu said. "Congratulations."
Zeb smiled. "Thank you."
By then, all the candles had been lit and Babs turned the glaring overhead lights off. Between the glow that leaked in from the kitchen and the candlelight, the reception area now had a romantic ambience.
"This is so nice," Agnes said. "I don't think I've ever been in this room."
"It is pretty," I said. "Whoever set this all up did a wonderful job."
"It was mostly Charlotte and Rose and that midget—"
"Little person, Ginger Rodgers," I said.
"Right, didn't mean no disrespect. They decorated the place."
Long ribbons of red and green crepe paper were strung from corner to corner across the ceiling. Wreaths made from pinecones and holly were hung from the windows, and a fully decorated Christmas tree stood in the center where what I assumed were our wedding gifts sat underneath.
The Christmas Wedding Pie Cake was sitting proudly on a table off in a corner but still attracted attention. I heard someone say, "That is the oddest wedding cake I ever did see. Who has pie at a wedding?"
Charlotte, who sat with the Angels at the table closest to the cake, simply smiled.
It took a few minutes but all the guests were seated for the meal when it occurred to me that these people were expecting some kind of luncheon. I whispered to Agnes, "Zeb and I didn't really plan on food. We thought we'd just have pie, coffee, and soda. Nothing fancy."
She patted my hand. "Edie, Janeen, and the Society Ladies took care of it. They wanted to surprise you."
"Oh, that's so sweet."
"It's pretty much a pot luck," Agnes said. "Church food." Studebaker tapped his water glass with his knife and stood.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he said. "Lunch will be served in just a few moments. It's pot luck, so we have all kinds of choices over there."
I looked in the direction he had nodded and saw a table crowded with pretty casseroles, pots filled with baked beans, dishes of already sliced beef and pork, salads, macaroni and cheese, and Jell-O Surprise.
