The Wedding(23)
Author: Nicholas Sparks

Jane yawned and shook her head. “No, not tonight. If I had a glass, I think I’d fall asleep. I’d love a glass of water, though.”

In the kitchen, I filled two glasses with ice and water from the refrigerator. She took a long drink, then leaned against the counter and propped one leg against the cupboards behind her in her habitual pose.

“My feet are killing me. We barely stopped for a minute all day. Anna looked at a couple hundred dresses before she found the right one. And actually, Leslie was the one who pulled it off the rack. I think she was getting desperate by then—Anna’s got to be one of the most indecisive people I’ve ever met.”

“What’s it like?”

“Oh, you should see her in it. It’s one of those mermaid-style dresses, and it really flatters her figure. It’s still got to be fitted, but Keith’s going to love it.”

“I’ll bet she looks beautiful.”

“She does.” By her dreamy expression, I knew she was seeing it again. “I’d show you, but Anna doesn’t want you to see it until the weekend. She wants it to be a surprise.” She paused. “So how did it go on your end? Did anyone show up at the house?”

“Everyone,” I said, filling her in on the details of the morning.

“Amazing,” she said, refilling her glass. “Considering it’s so last minute, I mean.”

From the kitchen, we could see the sliding glass windows that led to the deck. The light outside had dimmed under the thickening clouds, and the first drops of rain began to hit the window, lightly at first. The river was gray and ominous; a moment later, there was a flash of light followed by the crackling of thunder, and the downpour began in earnest. Jane turned toward the windows as the storm unleashed its fury.

“Do you know if it’s going to rain on Saturday?” she asked. Her voice, I thought, was surprisingly calm; I expected her to be more anxious. I thought of her peacefulness in the car, and I realized she hadn’t said a word about Noah’s presence at the pond. Watching her, I had the strange sense that her mood had something to do with Anna.

“It’s not supposed to,” I said. “They’re forecasting clear skies. This is supposed to be the last of the showers passing through.”

Silently we stared at the falling rain together. Aside from the gentle patter of water, all was quiet. There was a faraway look in Jane’s eyes, and the ghost of a smile played on her lips.

“It’s lovely, isn’t it?” she asked. “Watching the rain? We used to do that at my parents’ house, remember? When we’d sit on the porch?”

“I remember.”

“It was nice, wasn’t it?”

“Very.”

“We haven’t done this in a long time.”

“No,” I said, “we haven’t.”

She seemed lost in thought, and I prayed that this newfound sense of calm wouldn’t give way to the familiar sadness I had come to dread. Yet her expression didn’t change, and after a long moment, she glanced at me.

“Something else happened today,” she said, looking down at her glass.

“Oh?”

Looking up again, she met my eyes. They seemed to be sparkling with unshed tears.

“I won’t be able to sit with you at the wedding.”

“You won’t?”

“I can’t,” she said. “I’ll be up front with Anna and Keith.”

“Why?”

Jane brought her hand to the glass. “Because Anna asked me to be her matron of honor.” Her voice cracked a little. “She said she was closer to me than to anyone, and that I’d done so much for her and the wedding. . . .” She blinked rapidly and gave a small sniff. “I know it’s silly, but I was just so surprised when she asked me that I barely knew what to say. The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. She was so sweet when she asked, like it really meant something to her.”

She swiped at her tears, and I felt a tightness in my throat. Asking a father to be best man was fairly typical in the South, but it was rare for a mother to act as matron of honor.

“Oh, sweetheart,” I murmured. “That’s wonderful. I’m so happy for you.”

Lightning was followed by thunder again, though they both barely registered, and we stood in the kitchen until long after the storm had passed, sharing our silent joy.

When the rain had stopped completely, Jane slid open the glass doors and skipped out onto the deck. Water still dripped from the gutters and the porch railings, while tendrils of steam rose from the deck.

As I followed her, I felt my back and arms aching from my earlier exertions. I rolled my shoulders in an attempt to loosen them up.

“Have you eaten?” Jane asked.

“Not yet. Do you want to head out and grab a bite?”

She shook her head. “Not really. I’m pretty worn out.”

“How about if we order in to celebrate? Something easy? Something . . . fun.”

“Like what?”

“How about a pizza?”

She put her hands on her hips. “We haven’t ordered a pizza since Leslie moved out.”

“I know. But it sounds good, doesn’t it?”

“It’s always good. It’s just that you always get indigestion afterward.”

“True,” I admitted. “But I’m willing to live dangerously tonight.”

“Wouldn’t you rather I just throw something together? I’m sure we’ve got something in the freezer.”

“C’mon,” I said. “We haven’t split a pizza in years. Just the two of us, I mean. We’ll kick back on the couch, eat straight from the box—you know? Just like we used to. It’ll be fun.”

She stared at me quizzically. “You want to do something . . . fun.”

It was more of a statement than a question.

“Yes,” I said.

“Do you want to order, or should I?” she finally asked.

“I’ll take care of it. What do you want on it?”

She thought for a moment. “How about the works?” she said.

“Why not?” I agreed.

The pizza arrived half an hour later. By then, Jane had changed into jeans and a dark T-shirt, and we ate the pizza like a couple of college students in a dorm room. Despite her earlier refusal of a glass of wine, we ended up sharing a cold beer from the fridge.

While we ate, Jane filled in more details about her day. The morning had been spent looking for dresses for Leslie and Jane, despite Jane’s protests that she could “just pick up something simple at Belk’s.” Anna had been adamant that Jane and Leslie each pick out something they loved—and could wear again.

“Leslie found the most elegant dress—knee-length, like a cocktail dress. It looked so good on Leslie that Anna insisted on trying it on just for kicks.” Jane sighed. “The girls have really turned into such beauties.”

“They got your genes,” I said seriously.

Jane only laughed and waved a hand at me, her mouth full of pizza.

As the evening wore on, the sky outside turned indigo blue and the moonlit clouds were edged with silver. When we finished, we sat unmoving, listening to the sound of wind chimes in the summer breeze. Jane leaned her head back on the couch, staring at me through half-closed eyes, her gaze oddly seductive.

“That was a good idea,” she said. “I was hungrier than I thought.”

“You didn’t eat that much.”

“I have to squeeze into my dress this weekend.”

“I wouldn’t worry,” I said. “You’re as beautiful as the day I married you.”

At her tense smile, I saw that my words didn’t have quite the effect I’d hoped. Abruptly, she turned to face me on the couch. “Wilson? Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“I want you to tell me the truth.”

“What is it?”

She hesitated. “It’s about what happened at the pond today.”

The swan, I immediately thought, but before I could explain that Noah had asked me to take him there—and would have gone with or without me—she went on.

“What did you mean when you said what you did?” she asked.

I frowned in puzzlement. “I’m not sure I know what you’re asking.”

“When you said you loved me and that you were the luckiest man in the world.”

For a stunned moment, I simply stared at her. “I meant what I said,” I repeated dumbly.

“Is that all?”

“Yes,” I said, unable to hide my confusion. “Why?”

“I’m trying to figure out why you said it,” she said matter-of-factly. “It isn’t like you to say something like that out of the blue.”

“Well . . . it just felt like the right thing to say.”

At my answer, she brought her lips together, her face growing serious. She glanced up at the ceiling and seemed to be steeling herself before turning her gaze on me again. “Are you having an affair?” she demanded.

I blinked. “What?”

“You heard me.”

I suddenly realized she wasn’t kidding. I could see her trying to read my face, evaluating the truthfulness of what I intended to say next. I took her hand in my own and rested my other hand on top of it. “No,” I said, looking directly at her. “I’m not having an affair. I’ve never had an affair, and I never will. Nor have I ever wanted to.”

After a few moments of careful scrutiny, she nodded. “Okay,” she said.

“I’m serious,” I emphasized.

She smiled and gave my hand a squeeze. “I believe you. I didn’t think you were, but I had to ask.”

I stared at her in bewilderment. “Why would the thought have even crossed your mind?”

“You,” she said. “The way you’ve been acting.”

“I don’t understand.”

She gave me a frankly assessing look. “Okay, look at it from my perspective. First, you start exercising and losing weight. Then, you start cooking and asking me about my days. If that weren’t enough, you’ve been unbelievably helpful this whole week . . . with everything, lately. And now, you’ve started saying these uncharacteristically sweet things. First, I thought it was a phase, then I thought it was because of the wedding. But now . . . well, it’s like you’re someone else all of a sudden. I mean . . . apologizing for not being around enough? Telling me you love me out of the blue? Listening to me talk for hours about shopping? Let’s order pizza and have fun? I mean, it’s great, but I just wanted to make sure you weren’t doing it because you felt guilty about something. I still don’t understand what’s happened to you.”

I shook my head. “It’s not that I feel guilty. Well, except about working too much, I mean. I do feel bad about that. But the way I’ve been acting . . . it’s just . . .”

When I trailed off, Jane leaned toward me.

“Just what?” she pressed.

“Like I said the other night, I haven’t been the best husband, and I don’t know . . . I guess I’m trying to change.”

“Why?”

Because I want you to love me again, I thought, but I kept those words to myself.

“Because,” I said after a moment, “you and the kids are the most important people in the world to me—you always have been—and I’ve wasted too many years acting as if you weren’t. I know I can’t change the past, but I can change the future. I can change, too. And I will.”

She squinted at me. “You mean you’ll quit working so hard?”

Her tone was sweet but skeptical, and it made me ache to think of what I’d become.

“If you asked me to retire right now, I would,” I said.

Her eyes took on their seductive gleam again.

“See what I mean? You’re not yourself these days.”

Though she was teasing—and wasn’t quite sure whether she believed me—I knew she’d liked what I said.

“Now can I ask you something?” I went on.

“Why not?” she said.

“Since Anna will be over at Keith’s parents’ house tomorrow night, and with Leslie and Joseph coming in on Friday, I was thinking that we might do something special tomorrow evening.”

“Like what?”

“How about . . . you let me come up with something and surprise you.”

She rewarded me with a coy smile. “You know I like surprises.”

“Yes,” I said, “I do.”

“I’d love that,” she said with undisguised pleasure.

Chapter Fourteen

On Thursday morning, I arrived at Noah’s house early with my trunk packed. As it had been the day before, the property was already crowded with vehicles, and my friend Nathan Little waved to me from across the yard, pantomiming that he’d join me in a few minutes.

I parked in the shade and got to work right away. Using the ladder, I finished removing the boards from the windows, so that the pressure washers could have complete access.

Again, I stored the boards under the house. I was closing the cellar door when a cleaning crew of five arrived and began to lay siege to the house. Since the painters were already working downstairs, they hauled in buckets, mops, cloths, and detergents and scoured the kitchen, the staircase, the bathrooms, the windows, and the rooms upstairs, moving quickly and efficiently. New sheets and blankets that I’d brought from home were placed on the beds; meanwhile Nathan brought in fresh flowers for every room in the house.

Within the hour, the rental truck arrived and workers began unloading white foldout chairs, setting them in rows. Holes were dug near the trellis, and pots with preplanted wisteria were sunk; the purple blooms were wound through the trellis and tied in place. Beyond the trellis, the former wildness of the rose garden gave way to vivid color.