The Wedding(29)
Author: Nicholas Sparks

“You look like a target in one of those shooting games at the carnival,” he said. “You know—where the penguin goes back and forth?”

I unwrinkled my brow. “That bad?”

“I think you’ve worn a groove in the porch.”

Deciding it might be better to sit, I started toward him when I heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

Noah held up his hands to signal that he was staying, and with a deep breath I entered the foyer. Jane was moving slowly down the stairway, one hand gliding across the banister, and all I could do was stare.

With her hair pinned up, she looked impossibly glamorous. Her peach satin gown clung to her body invitingly, and her lips were a glossy pink. She wore just enough eye shadow to accent her dark eyes, and when she saw my expression, she paused, basking in my appreciation.

“You look . . . incredible,” I managed to say.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

A moment later, she was moving toward me in the foyer. As she approached, I caught a whiff of her new perfume, but when I leaned in to kiss her, she pulled away before I got close.

“Don’t,” she said, laughing. “You’ll smudge my lipstick.”

“Really?”

“Really,” she said, and batted my grasping hands away. “You can kiss me later—I promise. Once I start crying, my makeup will be ruined anyway.”

“So where’s Anna?”

She nodded toward the stairs. “She’s ready, but she wanted to talk to Leslie alone before she came down. Some last minute bonding, I guess.” She gave a dreamy smile. “I can’t wait for you to see her. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more beautiful bride. Is everything ready to go?”

“As soon as he gets the word, John will start playing the processional music.”

Jane nodded, looking nervous. “Where’s Daddy?”

“Right where he’s supposed to be,” I said. “Don’t worry—everything’s going to be perfect. All that’s left now is the waiting.”

She nodded again. “What time is it?”

I glanced at my watch. “Eight o’clock,” I said, and just as Jane was about to ask whether she should go get Anna, the door creaked open upstairs. We both looked up at the same time.

Leslie was the first to appear, and like Jane, she was the picture of loveliness. Her skin had the dewiness of youth, and she bounced down the stairs with barely suppressed glee. Her dress was also peach colored, but unlike Jane’s, it was sleeveless, exposing the tawny muscles in her arms as she gripped the railing. “She’s coming,” she said breathlessly. “She’ll be down in a second.”

Joseph slipped through the door behind us and moved alongside his sister. Jane reached for my arm and, surprised, I noticed that my hands were trembling. This was it, I thought, it all comes down to this. And when we heard the door open upstairs, Jane broke into a girlish grin.

“Here she comes,” she whispered.

Yes, Anna was coming, but even then my thoughts were only on Jane. Standing beside me, I knew at that moment that I’d never loved her more. My mouth had gone suddenly dry.

When Anna appeared, Jane’s eyes widened. For just a moment, she seemed frozen, unable to speak. Seeing her mother’s expression, Anna descended the stairs as quickly as Leslie had, one arm behind her back.

The dress she wore was not the one that Jane had seen her wearing only minutes earlier. Instead, she wore the dress that I’d delivered to the house this morning—I had hung it in its garment bag in one of the empty closets—and it matched Leslie’s dress perfectly.

Before Jane could summon the will to speak, Anna moved toward her and revealed what she’d been hiding behind her back.

“I think you should be the one to wear this,” she said simply.

When Jane saw the bridal veil Anna was holding, she blinked rapidly, unable to believe her eyes. “What’s going on?” she demanded. “Why did you take your wedding gown off?”

“Because I’m not getting married,” Anna said with a quiet smile. “Not yet, anyway.”

“What are you talking about?” Jane cried. “Of course you’re getting married. . . .”

Anna shook her head. “This was never my wedding, Mom. It’s always been your wedding.” She paused. “Why do you think I let you pick everything out?”

Jane seemed incapable of digesting Anna’s words. Instead, she looked from Anna to Joseph and Leslie, searching their smiling faces for answers, before she finally turned to me.

I took Jane’s hands in my own and raised them to my lips. A year of planning, a year of secrets, had come down to this moment. I kissed her fingers gently before meeting her eyes.

“You did say you’d marry me again, didn’t you?”

For a moment, it seemed as if the two of us were alone in the room. As Jane stared at me, I thought back on all the arrangements I’d made in secret over the past year—a vacation at exactly the right time, the photographer and caterer who just happened to have an “opening,” wedding guests without weekend plans, work crews able to “clear their schedule” in order to ready the house in just a couple of days.

It took a few seconds, but a look of comprehension slowly began to dawn on Jane’s face. And when she fully grasped what was happening—what this weekend was truly all about—she stared at me in wonder and disbelief.

“My wedding?” Her voice was soft, almost breathless.

I nodded. “The wedding I should have given you a long time ago.”

Though Jane wanted the details of everything here and now, I reached for the veil that Anna still held.

“I’ll tell you about it at the reception,” I said, draping it carefully over her head. “But right now, the guests are waiting. Joseph and I are expected up at the front, so I’ve got to go. Don’t forget the bouquet.”

Jane’s eyes were pleading. “But . . . wait . . .”

“I really can’t stay,” I said softly. “I’m not supposed to see you beforehand, remember?” I smiled. “But I’ll see you in just a few minutes, okay?”

I felt the guests’ eyes on me as Joseph and I made our way toward the trellis. A moment later, we were standing beside Harvey Wellington, the minister I’d asked to officiate.

“You do have the rings, right?” I asked.

Joseph tapped his breast pocket. “Right here, Pop. Picked them up today, just like you asked.”

In the distance, the sun was sinking below the treeline, and the sky was slowly turning gray. My eyes traveled over the guests, and as I heard their muted whispers, I was overcome by a surge of gratitude. Kate, David, and Jeff were seated with their spouses in the front rows, Keith was seated right behind them, and beyond them were the friends whom Jane and I had shared for a lifetime. I owed every one of them my thanks for making all of this possible. Some had sent pictures for the album, others had helped me find exactly the right people to help with the wedding plans. Yet my gratitude went beyond those things. These days, it seemed impossible to keep secrets, but not only had everyone kept this one, they’d turned out with enthusiasm, ready to celebrate this special moment in our lives.

I wanted to thank Anna most of all. None of this would have been possible without her willing participation, and it couldn’t have been easy for her. She’d had to watch every word she said, all the while keeping Jane preoccupied. It had been quite a burden for Keith, too, and I found myself thinking that one day, he would indeed make a fine son-in-law. When he and Anna did decide to get married, I promised myself that Anna would get exactly the kind of wedding she wanted, no matter what it cost.

Leslie had been an immense help, too. It was she who had talked Jane into staying in Greensboro, and she was the one who drove to the store to buy Anna’s matching dress before bringing it home. Even more, it was she I called upon for ideas to make the wedding as beautiful as possible. With her love of romantic movies, she’d been a natural, and it had been her idea to hire both Harvey Wellington and John Peterson.

Then, of course, there was Joseph. He had been the least excited of my children when I’d told him what I intended to do, but I suppose I should have expected that. What I didn’t expect was the weight of his hand on my shoulder as we stood beneath the trellis, waiting for Jane to arrive.

“Hey, Pop?” he whispered.

“Yes?”

He smiled. “I just want you to know that I’m honored that you asked me to be your best man.”

At his words, my throat tightened. “Thank you,” was all I could say.

The wedding was all I hoped it would be. I’ll never forget the hushed excitement of the crowd or the way people craned their necks to see my daughters making their way down the aisle; I’ll never forget how my hands began to shake when I heard the first chords of the “Wedding March” or how radiant Jane looked as she was escorted down the aisle by her father.

With her veil in place, Jane seemed like a lovely, young bride. With a bouquet of tulips and miniature roses clasped loosely in her hands, she seemed to glide down the aisle. At her side, Noah beamed with undisguised pleasure, every inch the proud father.

At the head of the aisle, he and Jane stopped and Noah slowly raised her veil. After kissing her on the cheek, he whispered something in her ear, then took his seat in the front row, right next to Kate. Beyond them, I could see women in the crowd already dabbing their tears with handkerchiefs.

Harvey opened the ceremony with a prayer of thanks. After asking us to face each other, he spoke then of love and renewal and the effort it entailed. Throughout the ceremony, Jane squeezed my hands tightly, her eyes never leaving my own.

When the time came, I asked Joseph for the rings. For Jane, I’d bought a diamond anniversary band; for myself, I’d bought a duplicate of the one I’d always worn, one that seemed to shine with the hope of better things to come.

We renewed the vows we had spoken long ago and slipped the rings on each other’s fingers. When the time came to kiss the bride, I did so to the sounds of cheering, whistles, and applause and an explosion of camera flashbulbs.

The reception went on until midnight. Dinner was magnificent, and John Peterson was in wonderful form on the piano. Each of the children offered a toast—as did I, to offer my thanks for what everyone had done. Jane couldn’t stop smiling.

After dinner, we moved away some of the tables, and Jane and I danced for hours. In the moments she took to catch her breath, she peppered me with questions that had plagued me during most of my waking moments this week.

“What if someone had let the secret slip?”

“But they didn’t,” I answered.

“But what if they had?”

“I don’t know. I guess I just hoped that if someone did slip, you’d think you heard them wrong. Or that you wouldn’t believe I’d be crazy enough to do such a thing.”

“You put a lot of trust in a lot of people.”

“I know,” I said. “And I’m thankful they proved me right.”

“Me too. This is the most wonderful night of my life.” She hesitated as she glanced around the room. “Thank you, Wilson. For every single bit of it.”

I put my arm around her. “You’re welcome.”

As the clock edged toward midnight, the guests began to leave. Each of them shook my hand on the way out and offered Jane a hug. When Peterson finally closed the lid on the piano, Jane thanked him profusely. Impulsively, he kissed her on the cheek. “I wouldn’t have missed this for the world,” he said.

Harvey Wellington and his wife were among the last to leave, and Jane and I walked with them out onto the porch. When Jane thanked Harvey for officiating, he shook his head. “No need for thanks. There’s nothing more wonderful than being part of something like this. It’s what marriage is all about.”

Jane smiled. “I’ll give you a call so we can all have dinner together.”

“I’d like that.”

The kids were gathered around one of the tables, quietly rehashing the evening, but other than that, the house was quiet. Jane joined them at the table, and as I stood behind her, I glanced around the room and realized that Noah had slipped away unnoticed.

He’d been strangely quiet most of the evening, and I thought he might have gone outside to stand on the back porch in the hope of being alone. I’d found him there earlier, and to be frank, I was a little worried about him. It had been a long day, and with the hour getting late, I wanted to ask him whether he wanted to head back to Creekside. When I stepped onto the porch, however, I didn’t see him.

I was just about to go back inside to check the rooms upstairs when I spotted a solitary figure standing by the bank of the river in the distance. How I was able to see him, I’ll never be sure, but perhaps I caught sight of the backs of his hands moving in the darkness. Wearing his tuxedo jacket, he was otherwise lost in the nighttime surroundings.

I debated whether or not to call out, then decided against it. For some reason, I had the feeling that he didn’t want anyone else to know he was out there. Curious, however, I hesitated only briefly before making my way down the steps. I began moving in his direction.

Above me, the stars were out in full, and the air was fresh with the earthy scent of the low country. My shoes made soft scraping sounds on the gravel, but once I reached the grass, the ground began to slope, gradually at first, then steeper. I found it difficult to keep my balance amid the thickening vegetation. Pushing branches away from my face, I couldn’t figure out why—or how—Noah had gone this way.

Standing with his back to me, he was whispering as I approached. The soft cadences of his voice were unmistakable. At first I thought he was speaking to me, but I suddenly realized that he didn’t even know I was there.