(originally posted June 27, 2009 – HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HEATHER!)
“For
you see, each day I love you more.
Today more than yesterday and less than tomorrow.”
Rosemonde Gerard
Trixie glanced over at the clock, 12:18 a.m. She was getting married today.
She held a pillow over her face and giggled gleefully. She was already married. Why was she so excited now about this day?
Removing the pillow from her face, she darted a quick glance at Diana, sleeping peacefully in the twin bed next to her, before closing her eyes to take it all in. There was just something magical about summer in Sleepyside. It brought back memories of her happy childhood—new friends and picnics by the lake, sleepovers and horseback rides, clubhouses and diamond thieves.
And although she and Dan both loved the hubbub and excitement of New York, a summer night in the city just couldn’t compare to this—the crickets chirping in the shrubbery, the hoot of an owl in the woods, the soft breeze that floated through the half-open window to cool her face, the countless stars that surrounded the watchful moon like sparkling diamonds, a gnarled branch of the old crabapple tree outside her bedroom window scratching against the screen. It seemed to squeak out her name …Trixie …Trixie...
“Trixie?”
She opened her eyes and stared with puckered brow at the ceiling. Was the tree actually talking to her?
“Psst, Trix! You awake?”
Turning her head, she looked with delighted surprise at her husband as he clung to a weathered tree branch and leaned out precariously to tap on her window.
Scrambling out of bed, she padded softly to the window and pushed the screen up before kneeling down and resting her arms on the sill. “What on earth are you doing here?” she chided gently.
Dan shifted around, trying to find a comfortable and secure spot in the tree before he answered. “I missed you.”
Trixie smiled, placing her hand over his where it grasped the windowsill for balance. “We were apart for up to seven weeks while I was in training. And I was just in Beijing for a week. How can you possibly be missing me when we saw each other just a few hours ago?”
“That was different. I can’t do much about it when you’re in another state, or across the ocean. But when I know a short walk through the moonlit woods will bring you back into my arms once more…”
Trixie giggled. “Has my poetic brother been helping you write your vows?”
“How’d you guess?” He grinned at her and she leaned out the window to kiss him.
“If he wakes up and finds you missing, he’s going to think you got cold feet and skipped town. Then he’ll have to hunt you down and kill you, you know.”
“Oh, I think I’ll be all right,” Dan hedged. “It won’t come to that.”
“Are you saying my chivalrous brother wouldn’t jump to defend my honor if you left me at the altar?” Trixie asked in mock indignation.
Shifting nervously, Dan gave her a guilty look. “Mart knows.”
“Knows wha—?” Trixie’s blue eyes grew wide. “He knows?” she squawked.
“Shh … you’ll wake Diana.”
Trixie dismissed his concern with a wave of her hand. “She sleeps like the dead. You and I could have wild animal sex in here and she wouldn’t wake up.” As Dan waggled his eyebrows at her, she stifled a laugh and tried to look stern. “Forget it, mister. You’re trying to change the subject. My brother knows we’re already married?”
Dan made a face and nodded.
Trixie shook her head in feigned disgust, hoping the darkness hid her twinkling eyes. “Two beers last night and you spill your guts? Really, Mangan, I expected more from you.”
“It wasn’t last night. It was back in February.”
“February!” Trixie hissed.
“Yes. Remember that disposable camera that Arnold Walker supposedly never touched? Not so much. He got a few pictures of us on the sly and by the way, they’re kind of cute.”
“Are you telling me that my brother has kept this secret since February?”
“Pretty impressive, huh?” Dan continued with his hastily abridged explanation. “He couldn’t believe you had kept the secret so long. I told him you did better than he ever would’ve done. He was insulted that I thought you kept secrets better than he did. I said something to the effect of, ‘I’ll bet she could keep any secret better than you could,’ and the next thing I know...” He shrugged in embarrassment.
“Are you trying to tell me that you have two bets going concerning our secret marriage?”
Even in the dim moonlight, she could see his cheeks turn red. “Yes,” he mumbled. “Apparently, I have a gambling problem.”
His face looked so downcast—like Bobby’s when he was told he couldn’t come on a Bob-White adventure—that Trixie had to cover her mouth momentarily to squelch her laughter. “And what exactly did you bet my brother?”
“My bike.”
Her amusement quickly turned to dismay. “Oh, Dan! You love that bike! What on earth is Mart going to do with a motorcycle? I can practically guarantee he’ll fall off the first time he tries to ride it.”
Dan managed a half-grin as he sorrowfully nodded his agreement.
“Moms will have a cow if he starts riding your motorcycle. Sally will definitely have a cow. Jim will probably have a cow that it’s on his property corrupting his students.”
“Hey! How does a motorcycle corrupt young boys? I’m not corrupted.”
Trixie waggled her eyebrows at him. “That’s debatable.”
“Anyway, we’re getting married in... ” He shot a glance over her shoulder at the clock on the bedside table. “...about ten hours, so it looks like I’m out of luck.”
“And since Mart found out and he hasn’t told anyone about it, that means you’ve lost both bets,” Trixie pointed out with an impish twinkle in her eye.
“Don’t remind me,” Dan grumbled.
“Well, as much as I love the idea of you being my slave for a whole week, I hate the thought of you losing that bike. So we’ll just have to figure out some way to make Mart spill the beans.”
“In ten hours?”
“I’ll think of something,” Trixie promised. “Mart’s a natural born blabbermouth. Besides, he doesn’t know that I know he knows, right?”
Dan creased his forehead as he tried to figure out what she had said. “Right ... I think.”
“You’d better get back to the cabin before he wakes up for a midnight snack or something and discovers you’re missing.” She leaned out to kiss him. “And please be careful. I can’t have my not-so-secret husband falling out of a tree and breaking his neck on our wedding day.”
Dan grinned at her, daring to loosen his grip on the windowsill in order to brush his fingers against her cheek. “You know what? I’m glad we kept this marriage a secret.”
“You are?”
“Yeah. I didn’t realize a big wedding could be so...” He trailed off with a self-conscious shrug.
“Magical?”
Dan’s sheepish smile softened into a lovesick grin. “Yeah.”
“Me either,” Trixie agreed with a quiet laugh. “I’ve even managed to forget the months of agonizing dress fittings, and trying to chose between six shades of blue that all looked the same to me, and taste-testing so many wedding cakes I was afraid I’d fall into a diabetic coma, and having Honey calling me and harassing me ten times a week, and—”
Dan silenced her half-hearted grumblings with another kiss. “I love you,” he murmured.
“Will you still love me tonight, when I’m too tired to consummate our marriage?” she teased.
“First of all, we’ve already done that. Second of all, we’ve got seven whole days to honeymoon—no work, no obligations, nothing but consummation. And thirdly, I can’t really imagine you being too tired for sex.” He clung desperately to the tree branch as Trixie took a cheerful swipe at his head.
“Will you still love me tomorrow when I’m just going to die if you don’t tell me where we’re going on our honeymoon?”
“Trixie, I love you today ... tomorrow ... forever.”
She sighed softly and leaned out once more to kiss him goodnight. “Meet me at the lake in ten hours?”
“It’s a date.” He carefully climbed down the tree and swung from the bottom branch for a moment before dropping lightly to his feet onto the lawn. He looked up and waved at her, then stealthily disappeared into the woods.
“It is not flesh and blood but
the heart which makes us fathers and sons.”
Johann Schiller
“Good morning, Daniel,” Edwin Maypenny solemnly intoned. “How nervous are you?”
Dan vigorously massaged his scalp and further disheveled his already mussed hair. “I’m not nervous at all.”
“Good,” the older man said with a grin. “Then I’ll let you have some coffee.” He gestured for Dan to take a seat at the kitchen table and placed a steaming mug in front of him. “Do you suppose those two sloths in the attic will rouse themselves in time to stand up for you at your wedding?”
Dan grinned. “Mart and Tad aren’t used to the early morning hours we woodsmen keep.”
Edwin grunted in contempt. “I thought that Belden boy tended the chickens at Crabapple Farm.”
“He did, but only because his parents made him. Having to get up with the hens is what made him change his mind about being a farmer, I think.”
“Well, I know the way to Mart’s heart, and probably Tad’s as well. As soon as I get this bacon crackling, they’ll be stirring.” With a wink he added, “But maybe you and I will use up all the hot water first.”
“And it doesn’t last long here, that’s for sure,” Dan responded. “Lucky for me, I’m used to it. I’ve been taking a lot of cold showers the last few weeks.”
He had told Edwin about Trixie’s idea to make their wedding night “special” by abstaining from sex since she had returned from China. Edwin cackled mischievously. “That girl of yours sure does get some funny ideas in her head, doesn’t she?”
Dan nodded his agreement. “Most times I figure out why, eventually. I hate to admit it, but this one’s got me stumped.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Danny. It’s hard to think straight when your boys are in a twist.”
Dan nearly spit his coffee out as he burst into laughter. Edwin turned to the counter to begin preparations for breakfast. Dan sipped his coffee and watched the man who had been his guardian until he turned eighteen, but more than that, was his surrogate father, grandfather, and brother all in one, not to mention his friend.
Eight and a half years ago, Edwin Maypenny had taken him in, sight unseen. He didn’t even know Bill Regan all that well when he’d agreed to take his nephew into his home. He was used to being alone and didn’t know how to relate to teenage boys. All he had known about Dan was that he was an orphan, a street kid, in trouble with the law. He had known he was rebellious and uncooperative and not the least bit happy about living in the middle of nowhere with a reclusive old man he didn’t know. But there hadn’t been a moment’s hesitation from what Uncle Bill had told him. He had asked and Edwin had said yes, simple as that.
Thank God for his faith and trust.
Impulsively, Dan got up and went to the counter, putting his arm around the old man’s shoulders. “Thank you...” he said seriously, “...for everything.”
“It’s just bacon and eggs,” Edwin grunted in embarrassment.
Dan chuckled under his breath and shook his head resignedly. He set down his coffee cup and said, “I’m going to get my shower in before breakfast.” He patted Edwin on the back and turned toward the bathroom, which wasn’t far from the kitchen in the tiny cabin.
He was almost there when he heard a quiet murmur behind him.
“You’re welcome, son.”
“Mothers are the
most instinctive philosophers.”
Harriet Beecher
Stowe
“Good morning, Moms,” Trixie greeted with a bright smile as she walked down the stairs into the kitchen.
“Trixie, what’s wrong? Are you sick?” her mother asked immediately.
Brow furrowed, Trixie replied, “No, I’m fine. Why?”
Helen Belden shook her head and chuckled under her breath. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I’m just trying to remember the last time I saw you walking down those stairs.”
Trixie laughed gaily and gave her mother a warm hug. “I was about to come downstairs in my usual stampeding buffalo style when I suddenly had this vision of me falling down the steps and breaking my ankle, so I thought a little caution might be prudent. I’m already worried about getting down that hill to the lake in my heels. Crutches would be out of the question!”
“You know your father won’t let you fall, Trixie,” Moms said, caressing her only daughter’s cheek affectionately. “Now, sit down and I’ll fix you some breakfast.”
“Oh, Moms, I couldn’t possibly eat!”
Pointing to the table, Helen said firmly, “Sit. You won’t be eating for several more hours and you certainly don’t want to pass out at the altar now, do you?”
“Yes, Moms,” Trixie said and obediently sat down. “I mean, yes, I’ll eat, not yes, I want to pass out in Dan’s arms.” She grinned teasingly at her mother as she took the juice glass that was offered to her. Silently, she watched her mother carefully slice a bagel in half and pop it in the toaster oven as she updated her daughter on the morning’s activities.
“Sally’s already had her shower and she’s going to finish getting ready upstairs, so the guest room is all yours. She and Diana will be down to help you with your hair and makeup in a little while.”
“Moms?”
Helen turned to face her daughter and tilted her head in question. “Yes?”
Trixie thought a moment, then shrugged and grinned sheepishly. “I don’t know. Aren’t you supposed to give me some motherly advice on my wedding day?”
Helen took a glance at the bagel, turned down the heating element a bit and came to join Trixie at the table. “It used to be that these mother-daughter talks were about the wedding night, but I guess in this day and age, that kind of insight isn’t often needed.”
Trixie’s cheeks turned pink as she asked softly, “Were you disappointed when Dan and I decided to live together before we got married?”
“You could never disappoint me, Trixie. I raised my children to think for themselves.”
“But you also taught us to think about others.”
Placing her hand over Trixie’s, Helen smiled and said, “You always do.”
“Come on, Moms. Surely you have some wisdom to pass along? How can I possibly get married without my mother’s sage advice?”
Her mother thought carefully before answering, “Be true to your heart. It’s always wise to ask for advice and to listen to what other people have to offer you—your family, your friends, the people you work with—but in the end, you have to listen to your heart.”
“Did you?”
She nodded and smiled. “That’s why I have a wonderful husband and four wonderful children. Your father’s parents tried to dissuade us from getting married. They thought we were too young. And my parents thought I wouldn’t be happy living on a farm in the country. But I listened to my heart, and my heart knew that I loved your father and nothing else mattered.”
“Are you sorry you quit school? Or gave up your painting?”
“Sometimes I think about maybe going back to school, or at least taking some art classes and picking up my painting again, but I wouldn’t say I regret giving them up. I’d only regret it if nothing good came from my choices. But I got Brian and Mart and you and Bobby, so I’d say four very wonderful somethings came from my choice to be a wife and a mother instead of a Philadelphia socialite or career woman.”
“Do you think I’m making the right decision by putting my career first?”
Simply and directly, Moms asked, “Are you happy?”
Trixie’s eyes lit up and a smile complete with dimples spread across her face. “Oh, yes! I love my job. And I love being Dan’s wife. I mean—I will love being Dan’s wife.” Her face pinked up slightly and she jumped from her seat to retrieve her bagel as the bell on the toaster oven rescued her.
Thankfully, Moms didn’t seem to notice her slip. “You’ve been together for several years now. You’re already married in your hearts. Today just makes it legal.”
Trixie never thought the last few hours would be the hardest part of keeping their secret. She glanced at the clock over the sink and silently willed it to move faster.
“A brother is a friend God gave you; a friend is a brother
your heart chose.”
Proverb
“Garrghh!” Dan growled, undoing his bowtie for the fifth time. “Why didn’t I get a clip-on?”
“Because clip-ons are for losers,” Tad said as he patted his perfectly knotted tie proudly.
“Then help me!” Dan demanded, dropping his hands uselessly at his sides.
“Sorry, no can do. Jim is on his way over to drive you and Mart down to the lake. I’ve been ordered to the farm to escort Diana and Sally.”
Mart scowled. “So now you get Diana and Sally?”
Tad shrugged and flashed a lopsided grin. “That’s what you get for blackmailing Dan into choosing you to be his best man.”
Mart narrowed his eyes at Tad, then closed them and groaned.
When he opened them, Dan was shooting him the evil eye. “You told Tad?”
Red-faced, Mart muttered, “Maybe.”
Suddenly, Dan grinned broadly and Mart nervously grinned back, obviously not expecting that reaction.
“That means I get to hang onto my motorcycle.”
The smile slid off Mart’s face and he glowered at Tad. “Thanks a lot. If you’d kept your big mouth shut, that bike would’ve been mine in less than an hour.”
“My big mouth? You’re the one who told me in the first place, big mouth!”
“I told you it was a secret, didn’t I? Big mouth!”
“All right, Mo and Curly, knock it off,” Dan chuckled. “Mart spilled the beans, just as Trixie predicted, and I’m off the hook. You two can play the blame game later.”
“Wait, wait, wait, wait!” Mart yelped. “What do you mean, ‘just as Trixie predicted’? You told her?”
Dan was suddenly concentrating very hard on attempting to tie his tie correctly.
“Mangan?”
The groom shrugged and grinned. “Yeah, I told her. There was nothing in our bet about telling or not telling Trixie. I needed some help to thwart your dastardly plans. She’s probably plotting her next move even as we speak.”
Tad visibly shuddered. “Trixie’s professionally trained in interrogation now. She’s probably had some covert training on torture tactics, too. You dodged the bullet on that, Belden.”
“Tad, you’re not helping,” Dan said. “I thought you were going to get the girls?” And with a wink and a grin, Tad departed.
When Dan turned to look at Mart, his best man looked thoughtful and … mischievous. Dan growled, untied his sloppy tie yet again, and asked, “What’re you up to, Mart?”
Mart paused, as if still considering his options, then asked, “Trixie doesn’t know that I know she knows I know, right?”
Dan’s eyes fluttered half-closed as he let out a tortured moan. “Seriously, Mart, I’m about ten seconds away from blowing my brains out.” He yanked the tie from around his neck and threw it onto the dresser in frustration.
“I’m just saying ... this might be fun.” Mart picked up the tie, turned Dan to face him and helped him get it knotted around his neck.
They heard a knock on the front door and Dan quickly waved Mart into silence. “Whatever you’re thinking about doing, forget it! I’m getting married—again—in...” he checked his watch, “...48 minutes and I don’t need you wrecking Trixie’s day for her. Don’t say a word.”
“Don’t say a word about what?” Jim asked as he came into the room.
“About Dan and Trixie already being married,” Mart blurted out, followed up with an injured “Ow!” as Dan smacked him in the head.
“You’re a worse secret-keeper than Bobby!”
“You and Trixie are already married?”
“I haven’t told Bobby! I promise!”
“Let’s see if you can manage to keep it that way for another hour, bonehead.”
“You and Trixie are already married?”
“Come on, Dan. I only told two people, and Jim was by accident.”
“That’s two more people than I told, or Trixie told. When did you get to be such a tattletale? You’re like a little girl.”
“You and Trixie are already married?” Jim asked a third time, finally getting Dan and Mart to look his way.
Dan scowled at Mart and mumbled, “Yes.”
Jim’s tentative smile was full of bewildered amusement. “When did this happen?”
“Last summer. Atlantic City.”
Jim chuckled under his breath. “I don’t know why I’m surprised. Trixie could talk Regan into taking a job at a glue factory.”
“She didn’t have to twist my arm, Jim,” Dan insisted. “I wanted to do it as much as she did.”
“I meant about keeping it a secret.” Jim’s grin widened. “Did you have fun?”
“Getting married? Or keeping it a secret?”
“Both.”
“Yes to the first, and yes—until Mart began blackmailing me—on the second.”
“Hey!” Mart protested. “I was willing to let the feline out of the rucksack, but you were trying to win a bet.”
“You and Trixie bet on it?” Jim shook his head and tried unsuccessfully to quash his laughter. “I don’t how I’m going to keep a straight face through this ceremony.”
“Well, try,” Dan implored. “For Trixie’s sake, if not for mine.”
Jim nodded, still grinning broadly. Changing the subject, he asked, “What the heck is going on with your tie?”
“Why?” Dan asked, clutching self-consciously at his throat. “Mart helped me with it.”
“Well, it looks like Mart helped you with it.” Jim reached out, gave it a yank and started over.
Dan shot Mart a withering glance.
“What? Can I help it if Brian always helped me with my ties before?”
“Something old, something new,
something borrowed, something blue.”
Old English Rhyme
“Trixie, you’re as pretty as a picture!” Sally exclaimed, so giddy with wedding day joy that she couldn’t think of any way to express herself other than using the silly cliché.
“You’re positively glowing,” Diana agreed, as she carefully threaded another miniature daisy into Trixie’s hair. Trixie had sat with uncommon patience while Diana had painstakingly swept her hair up into a stylish French knot, allowing several of her natural curls to hang freely and frame her face and trail down her bare neck. The effect was both elegant and playful and was totally Trixie.
“Do you have everything you need?” Sally inquired. “All your old and new and borrowed and blue?”
Diana sniffed. “Trixie is shunning all things traditional. I’m surprised she and Dan didn’t have breakfast in bed this morning.”
Sally looked aghast. “He can’t see you before the wedding! And having those items is good luck. Everybody can use some good luck.”
“I did think about getting her something old, something new, something borrowed, and something ecru, just to be different,” Diana teased. “But how could you not have something blue, Trix? It’s your signature color.”
“Well, you all look wonderful in it,” Trixie said. “Or rather, you all look wonderful in Oasis,” she breathed in hushed awe as she teasingly tugged on the hem of Diana’s bridesmaid dress, a wispy chiffon in a soft blue that looked cool and summery.
“Trixie, this color is Riviera Sky, not Oasis.”
Trixie threw up her hands in exasperation. “Whatever! Gleeps, it’s a good thing I’m only getting married once!”
Diana gasped and when Trixie looked up at her, her violet eyes were bright and wide. “What is it, Di?” she asked. “Is my hair falling apart already?”
She reached up self-consciously to touch it, but Diana automatically stopped her, blurting out, “No, no. It’s fine. Don’t touch it. It’s just that—I forgot your present! I mean, I didn’t forget it. It’s here. It’s just not here here. It’s upstairs. I’ll go get it.”
She fled the room, leaving Trixie staring at the empty doorway in bewilderment. “What was that all about?”
Sally giggled. “She’s more jittery than the bride. Really, Trixie, I’ve never seen a bride so cool and collected as you. Aren’t you nervous at all?”
Trixie shrugged. “Why should I be?”
“Why indeed?” Sally replied mysteriously. When Trixie turned to stare at her, she smiled mischievously, darted a glance at the still-empty doorway, and whispered, “It’s not like you haven’t done this before … right?”
Trixie’s face turned red and her eyes widened. With a gasp, she exclaimed, “Mart told you?”
“Kind of. I mean—” Sally’s cheeks began to look much like Trixie’s as she flushed and mumbled, “Did you know your brother talks in his sleep?”
There was a pause before both girls burst into nervous laughter. Trixie grasped Sally’s hands and asked, “So Mart doesn’t know that you know?”
Sally shook her head. “Was he there when you and Dan got married?”
“No. It was last summer in Atlantic City, spur of the moment thing. Mart found out by accident. And he doesn’t know that I know, either.”
“Then how do you know that he knows?”
“Dan knows, and he told me that Mart knows.”
“I think I understand,” Sally said slowly, her blue eyes sparkling. “You and Dan both know, obviously. Mart knows, even though he shouldn’t know. Dan knows that Mart knows, and you know that Mart knows, but Mart only knows that Dan knows he knows, not that you know he knows, or that Dan knows that you know that Mart knows.”
Trixie said nothing for a moment, her mouth hung open in utter amazement. Then she burst into laughter and exclaimed, “Honey would be so proud of you, Sally!”
They heard Diana as she came down the stairs and Trixie quickly waved a hand to halt the conversation. “I promise I’ll tell you all about it later, but don’t say anything else. Diana doesn’t know. You and Mart, me and Dan. That’s it until after the wedding, okay? Then we’ll tell you the whole story.”
Diana came into the room then and presented Trixie with a long, narrow black box. “It’s new and blue, so you’re only halfway traditional.”
Trixie opened the box to reveal a diamond and sapphire ankle bracelet. “It’s like Honey’s bracelet,” she murmured. The Bob-Whites had all chipped in to get Honey a ruby and diamond bracelet for her New Year’s Eve wedding. Like that bracelet, Trixie’s new anklet had seven gems in all—four sapphires and three diamonds—to represent the seven Bob-Whites.
She had told herself she wouldn’t cry today, but she couldn’t help feeling a little misty as she thought about her six best friends and all they had been through over the years. “Thank you,” she said, standing up to give Diana a warm hug. She drew back and grabbed Sally’s hand as well. “I’ve got old friends and new friends and a blue ankle bracelet, and to heck with borrowed.”
“Except that you’re going to have to borrow my handkerchief if you don’t want to mess up your mascara,” Diana teased.
“When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life
with somebody,
you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.”
Harry Burns, When Harry Met Sally…
Dan paced inside the boathouse. This was no easy task, as the lawn furniture, swimming and boating paraphernalia, and even the picnic tables had been shoved inside in order to make room for the wedding. His pacing consisted of three steps to the window, a quick about-face, and three steps back to the door.
He wasn’t pacing nervously, or even fretfully, but eagerly. He was more than ready to get this show on the road. What’s the hold up that we’re running so late? He checked his watch. Oh, ten minutes to go. Never mind. Keep pacing.
He had made a few more slow circuits of his cage, trying not to make himself dizzy, when his uncle knocked and entered. “You about ready, Dan?”
Dan grinned crookedly at him. “I’ve been ready since I woke up this morning.”
“I’ve seen you when you first wake up, you know,” Regan said with a derisive snort. “It wouldn’t be a pretty picture for the official wedding photos.”
Dan ran his fingers through his hair, adjusted his tie, and smoothed his hands down the front of his tuxedo jacket. “Do I look okay?”
Regan pretended to critically peruse him before gruffly conceding, “A far sight better than you looked when you first came to Sleepyside.”
“Not again!” Dan groaned in mock dismay. “Is this lecture about my jacket? Or the hair?”
“The mangy jacket, the long hair, those ridiculous cowboy boots, the scowl on your face, and the fact that you were a scrawny punk.”
“Maypenny’s venison stew was kind of hard to come by on the streets,” Dan said, only half joking as he remembered those lean days when any meals were hard to come by.
“Well, it sure didn’t take you long to fatten up.”
“I ate a lot of stew,” Dan agreed with a chuckle. “And a lot of dinners with the Beldens.”
“And Cook’s fried chicken.”
“And a whole lot of Wimpy’s burgers.” They both laughed and Dan added, “Thank goodness Edwin had all that wood to chop, or I’d have ended up weighing a ton!”
After a moment of awkward silence, Regan said in a low voice, “I’ll always be thankful to have you as my nephew, but after all that you’ve been through and where you are now, I’m glad to say that I’m also very proud that you’re my nephew.” With a sly grin, he added, “And I’m very happy and proud that Trixie’s my niece-in-law.”
“Almost,” Dan said with a grin and another quick glance at his watch. “About five more minutes ‘til we start.”
Regan didn’t respond and Dan stared curiously at him. His uncle looked like a redheaded cat with canary feathers hanging out of his mouth. “What?”
“Trixie’s already your wife, isn’t she?”
Dan’s dark eyes grew round and wide. “Mart told you?”
Now it was Regan’s turn to look puzzled. “No. Mart knows?”
“So, Trixie told you?” Dan was confused. He had no idea who knew what, or how or when or why.
“Trixie didn’t tell me. Nobody told me. I figured it out myself.”
“How? When? Why didn’t you say anything?”
Regan shrugged. “I figured you had your reasons for keeping it a secret. I’ve known since Thanksgiving.”
“Thanksgiving! How?”
With a grin, Regan held up his left hand, palm out, fingers slightly spread. With his thumb, he reached over to his ring finger and rubbed it. “You did this all weekend, like you were touching a ring that wasn’t there. Other than your mama’s Celtic cross necklace, I’ve never seen you wear any jewelry, not even a class ring, so it got me thinking. Of course,” he concluded with a wink at his nephew, “it was merely a suspicion until just now.”
Dan slapped a hand to his forehead and laughed helplessly. “This is the worst-kept secret in the world. I have no idea how we’re going to figure out who lost which bet.”
“You and Trixie made a bet on it?”
“Yeah, and so did Mart and I.”
Regan scratched the back of his head and said, “I guess you’ve still got some of the street-wise con man in you, after all.” His green eyes twinkled as he chastised his nephew. “But at least you have a decent haircut these days.”
“I seem to have loved you in
numberless forms, numberless times, in life after life,
in age after age forever.”
Rabindranath Tagore
Her mother had already left for the lake, secure on her youngest son’s arm, her rose-colored dress matching the flush in her cheeks from the lingering kiss he had bestowed upon her.
And now he stood, just outside the door of the guest room, and watched his only daughter as she fussed with the dainty strap on her dainty shoe, the sunlight catching on the jewels of her new anklet and sending prisms of color around the room as she turned her foot this way and that and enjoyed the effect.
Wasn’t it just yesterday that he was holding her in his arms for the first time, his heart melting as she gazed up at him with eyes so trusting?
Brian’s baby blue eyes had darkened quickly. Mart’s went through several shades of blue and gray before settling on a shade much like his mother’s. But Peter had always been certain that his daughter’s would stay that brilliant delphinium blue. And they had.
She had been his little princess, daddy’s little girl ... until she was old enough to start tagging after her older brothers. Then she became his little tomboy—independent, adventurous, and free-spirited. But when she crawled into his lap and pleaded with wide blue eyes for a story before dinner, it was just like she was his little princess again—never mind the dirt smudged on her face and the tangled mess of her sandy blond curls.
He and Helen had sent her off to school, their last little fledgling to leave the nest—or so they thought at the time—and she’d quickly learned to read all by herself, no longer bringing a book to him before supper, but sounding out new words with her mother at the kitchen table. But she still called him “Daddy” and kissed him goodnight. She still giggled when he’d send her off to bed with a “Sleep tight. Don’t let the bedbugs bite. Nighty-night.”
She still let him kiss her boo-boos and comfort her when she cried. He was the one she turned to with all the humiliation an eight-year-old can bear when she fell off the school stage in the paper flower costume that was too big for her. He had kissed away her tears, bandaged her skinned knee, and assured her that nobody was laughing at her. Then he had tugged on a blond ringlet and called her his little daffodil, and she was all smiles again.
But as she grew older, there were hurts only her mother could handle. For what teenage girl wants to tell her father about the cute boy in her history class who wouldn’t give her the time of day? Or ask why all the other girls in class were wearing bras and she was still boyishly flat? Or bemoan her “sturdiness”, which he thought was a compliment and turned out to mean—at least in her angsty teenage mind—that he thought she was fat?
But he was the one she came to begging for a horse of her own. Because that’s what fathers do. They buy ponies for their little princesses. And he was the one she came to asking permission to go on a trailer trip with her new best friend. Because fathers settle the matter when mothers are undecided, or when mothers say, “Go ask your father.”
She came to him asking advice about colleges and apartments and careers and finances and all the important decisions a young woman needs to make in her life. But the most important decision of all she made herself, and the most important question of all was asked not by her, but by the dark-haired, dark-eyed young man she had given her heart to. The heart she had once given to him.
And they were engaged. And they were living together. And they were planning their wedding, their honeymoon, their futures. And it wouldn’t be much longer, minutes really, and she wouldn’t be his little girl anymore.
He would walk her down the aisle. He and her mother would give her away and his princess would become the queen of Dan’s heart. Sure, he was gaining a fine son-in-law. Yes, they would always be around—holidays, weekend visits, summer vacations. And someday, he hoped, Trixie and Dan would present him with grandchildren.
But it would never be quite the same again. She’d go to Dan when she needed comfort and to Dan when she needed advice. She would kiss Dan goodnight and give Dan her whole heart.
He would never be “Daddy” again.
She touched his arm and he shook himself out of his melancholy, looked into those trusting blue eyes again and smiled, couldn’t help but smile.
“What were you just thinking about?” she asked.
“If I told you everything that I was thinking right now, sweetheart, I’d make you late for the most important date in your life. And while I’m sure Dan is quite used to your tardiness,” he added with a wink, “I don’t think now is the time to test his confidence in your love for him.”
Trixie giggled, and he turned and placed himself at her side, angling his elbow out for her to grasp. “Are you ready to go, my little daffodil?”
Her eyes were bright with wonder and affection as she said, “You haven’t called me that since I was in grade school, Daddy.”
Her smile was brilliant and his heart ached in his chest. For he knew there would always be moments like this, when he was her daddy again, and she was his little girl.
“May the wings of the butterfly kiss the sun
And find your shoulder to light on,
To bring you luck, happiness and riches
Today, tomorrow and beyond.”
Irish Blessing
Rows of white, wooden folding chairs had been gently arced on either side of a broad aisle that led to the arbor, which was festooned with daisies and other colorful wild flowers. In the first of many conscious decisions Trixie and Dan had made to not allow themselves to be shackled to the same tired old traditions, there was no “bride’s side” or “groom’s side”, because her family was his and vice versa, and all their friends were shared friends. Everybody sat where they wanted to sit, saving the front row for immediate family.
An eclectic mix of classical, jazz, and Irish folk music provided soft instrumental undertones as the guests arrived and were seated. When there was a noticeable pause between numbers, the remaining guests who were lingering in quiet chats found their seats and the ceremony began.
First, Bobby Belden proudly escorted his mother up the aisle to her seat. Next, in another break from tradition, Dan escorted Edwin Maypenny to his seat. He stopped to kiss Honey’s cheek and shake Brian’s hand—as honorary members of the wedding party they were dressed to match the rest of the bridesmaids and groomsmen, even though Honey was under doctor’s orders to stay off her feet—then took his place next to Mart by the arbor.
In pairs, three groomsmen and three bridesmaids walked up the aisle, splitting at the arbor to take their places on either side of the minister—first Tad and Sally, then Jim and Renee, and finally Regan and Hallie.
The music changed and Debussy’s “Claire de Lune” floated across the meadow. Diana and Honey had half-heartedly tried to change Trixie’s mind about this musical choice, pointing out that the title of the piece meant “moonlight” and perhaps wasn’t entirely apropos for a wedding that was taking place at ten thirty in the morning. But Trixie had insisted, her cheeks rosy enough to indicate to her friends that the song had special meaning.
When she and Dan had returned to their hotel after their first wedding in Atlantic City, “Claire de Lune” was the music that had been playing on the hotel radio, the music they had made love to as husband and wife, the music they had fallen in love with. Dan, the jazz aficionado, and Trixie, the pop princess, had both fallen in love with a century-old piece of French classical music. Dan had even called the station the next morning and requested the song so that she would wake up hearing the romantic music, its swelling overtures keeping time as they made love while the sun rose over the ocean just outside their window.
So “Claire de Lune” it was, and it seemed entirely appropriate now, as their very own goddess of the moon, Diana, descended the hill in a wispy tea-length gown of Riviera Sky blue, a bouquet of wildflowers in her hand, violet eyes sparkling with mirth as she winked at the groom.
Dan smiled charmingly at her, keeping his eyes on her just long enough to ensure she had safely made her way down to the head of the aisle before lifting his eyes up to where Trixie and her father were just cresting the hill.
He would have gasped if he had any air in his lungs, but as it always did, the sight of her took his breath away.
Her right arm was tucked securely in her father’s, which was a good thing, since she wasn’t watching where she was going—she couldn’t take her eyes off her groom. He wanted to take in the details of her beautiful dress, her hair, her bouquet of daisies, but all he could see was the forever of her shining blue eyes as she and her father slowly descended the hill on carefully spaced steps of broad, flat fieldstones that blended in perfectly with the natural environment.
He was starting to feel light-headed and was just wondering why when he heard a soft chuckle behind him and felt Mart’s finger poking him in his kidney.
“Breathe, Dan.”
He took a much-needed deep breath and everything came back into focus.
And then, Trixie’s worst nightmare nearly came true. Yet, in the magic of that day, that place, that moment, even it turned out to be a blessing in disguise.
So focused was she on her husband that she didn’t pay the necessary attention to where she was placing her feet and missed a step. Stumbling off the steppingstone and into the grassy meadow, there was a soft, collective gasp from the wedding guests, and Dan felt his muscles instinctively coil up as he prepared to rush to her side. But her father held her securely, and as she looked down the hill at Dan with a sheepish grin and pinking cheeks and regained her footing, it happened.
As she moved back to the path, her foot stepped into a cluster of wildflowers that suddenly came alive as dozens of pale blue and ivory butterflies fluttered up and around Trixie and her father, circling them in a scolding manner before flittering off across the field. A second gasp came from the congregation below, this one of enchanted delight as they savored the fairy tale moment.
Her confidence in the beauty of the world—if not in her own natural grace—restored, Trixie smiled radiantly and continued down the hill, arm in arm with her father. When they reached the head of the aisle, the congregation remained seated—another break in tradition by Trixie and Dan’s request—and the delicate piano melody of a contemporary version of “The Bridal March”, that they both loved far more than Wagner’s original heavy-handed version, brought Trixie and her father to Dan’s side.
Peter’s eyes were slightly glazed, as if he were far away. Dan’s gaze drifted down to where he held his daughter’s hand firmly. He wondered if maybe they should have told Peter and Helen that today was just a formality. No matter how much Peter had teased yesterday—practicing his five-word response to the minister’s question over and over, testing each word for just the right inflection, pretending he couldn’t remember his only line in this play—Dan could only imagine how he was feeling right now. He had a fleeting desire to wish for all sons before an image of a little girl with blond ringlets and bright blue eyes flashed across his mind’s eye. He believed even Peter would say it was worth the ache of this moment.
He heard a whisper of muffled laughter and came back to attention. Trixie was elbowing her father gently. Peter grinned guiltily as he realized he had missed his cue, and with a voice that was clear and strong, he said, “Her mother and I do,” before confidently placing Trixie’s hand in Dan’s and taking his seat next to her mother.
Dan squeezed Trixie’s fingers as she stepped closer to him. She squeezed back and winked at him as the minister began.
“We are gathered here today to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony…”
“Now join hands, and with your hands your hearts.”
William Shakespeare
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