Merry Christmas - The Christmas Wedding
It’s no secret that the insurance work I do pays the mortgage but doesn’t so much fill my creative soul. I signed up for the NaNoWriMo for November in which I was supposed to write 50,000 words. I didn’t so much make it, but I feel good about the 9,000 or so I did write.
Each year, I write a Christmas story for my friend, Mika, for her birthday. She’s a long-time fan of my writing, and a very easy fan to satisfy, thankfully. Two of my previous stories for her are linked in the upper right corner of the blog. And I’m going to post this year’s story in installments here.
Please leave comments and let me know if you enjoy the story. Let me know what you liked and didn’t like. I want feedback.
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The Christmas Wedding - the beginning
Three grown men groaned when the huge, white binder landed on the wooden breakfast table in the kitchen. Each thought they had been more than supportive during these last few months, but they each also thought they were pretty near the breaking point.
Each, of course, would ignore that breaking point because they adored the young woman pouring herself a cup of coffee in the enormous ranchhouse kitchen.
“Elizabeth, sweetheart, didn’t we agree that we wouldn’t have any wedding discussions before breakfast?” asked Zane.
“We’re past that point now, Z,” Elizabeth replied, sitting down at the head of the table, facing the three men. “I’m getting married in three weeks, and there are things we need to discuss. Important things.”
Another groan came from the masculine participants of the conversation.
“Hush that,” Elizabeth said. “I know ya’ll have been patient with me and tolerant beyond words, but I haven’t been completely honest with you, and I need to fix that before we go forward with this wedding.”
At that, two of the three men looked surprised. The third man, the oldest of the group, looked tenderly at the young woman and nodded at her as if to encourage her to continue.
Elizabeth was dressed in casual knit pajamas and big, fluffy socks. She had tucked one foot up underneath her in the chair and was sipping her coffee, choosing her words carefully.
The men sensed her need for a few moments to gather her thoughts and were silent. It was early December in northern Texas. Elizabeth was at home at the ranch where she grew up, living for the first time in several years with her father, WT, and her brothers, Zane and Tucker.
Elizabeth was a decade younger than Tucker who was two years younger than Zane. She was a blessing from heaven, WT always said. The only girl in a house full of boys, Elizabeth was well protected and well loved. Her mother had died of cancer when Elizabeth was not yet 10, and she had been doted upon by her father and brothers.
“Go on, Elizabeth, tell your story,” WT said. “It’s time we all told the truth around here.”
And so, the tiny blonde at the end of the table sat down her coffee mug and began to tell a story, to explain a lie.
“Years ago, someone loved me enough to sacrifice for me, to put aside personal heartache and to move past that in order to be a source of strength for me.
“When I started planning this wedding, I knew this moment would come. I have to ask someone else to sacrifice for me. I didn’t actually ask the first person, but …
“This isn’t going the way I wanted. I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ve thought over and over about how I would tell you this. I guess I didn’t think it over well enough,” she said with a nervous laugh.
“Don’t try to say it perfect,” WT said. “Just say it.”
“Ok. I lied. Not an outright lie, I suppose, but a lie of omission. Actually, truth be told, lots of lies of omission all adding up to this one big lie. And now, I’ve hurt someone because of this.”
She shook her head slowly. “It shouldn’t have ended up like this. I never dreamed this would happen. I just wanted to be surrounded by people I love on my wedding day.”
“I’m sorry, Izzie, but I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tucker said. “Me, either,” Zane echoed. “Could you be less vague? It’s a good thing we already fed the cattle or I suspect they’d starve before this story ends.”
That brought a needed laugh to the table. Zane was the cut-up, always the one to be counted on to provide a laugh when the time was right.
Smiling at Zane, Elizabeth continued. “Ok. Here it is. The truth. I asked my very best friend in the whole world to be my maid of honor.”
“We know that, honey,” Tucker observed.
“No, Tuck. You think you know, but you don’t. There’s a woman who has been my friend and mentor and mother, sister, aunt, everything figure for years, and I want her to be with me on my wedding day.
“Tuck, I’m sorry. I should have talked to you about this earlier. I asked Hope to be my maid of honor.”
With that, all eyes turned from Elizabeth to Tucker.
“You what?”
“I’m sorry. I should have told you. I promised Hope that I would tell you as soon as I asked her, but then I couldn’t decide how to tell you, and I didn’t. And then, ya’ll never asked about the bridesmaids, and it was easy to not mention it, and then when she asked, I told her I had already told you and that you were okay with it.”
It all tumbled out before Elizabeth could censor herself, and she found that she couldn’t quite stop.
“And now she’s found out that I lied to her, and she’s saying she won’t be in the wedding because it’s wrong and it’s unfair to you and that I shouldn’t have lied to you about this because this is bigger than the other stuff, but I disagree. I think that all of the other little things that have made up my life with her in it are bigger lies than this one thing.
“But it shouldn’t matter. I love her, and I need her, and I want her there. I’m sorry I lied to you. I should have told you the truth six months ago when Andy and I announced our engagement. I’m sorry. Please, Tuck, help me work this out.”
Elizabeth leaned forward hesitantly, putting her hand on her brother’s, hoping to see something less than anger in his eyes.
He pulled his hand away and ran it through his dark, curly hair. “Why would you ask her? How can she be important to you after all these years? And what do you mean about the little things? Your life with her in it? What are you talking about?”
Again, Elizabeth looked toward her father for encouragement, and again, he nodded, silently willing her to continue.
“She’s always been in my life, Tucker. Mom had only been gone a couple of years when I met Hope, and true to her name, she brought me nothing but hope and joy and light. I needed a woman’s touch at 12 like you wouldn’t believe.”
“I know that, Izzie. But after…”
“I was heartbroken. You know that. I didn’t try to hide that. A few months after, I asked Daddy if I could call Hope, email her, something. And he agreed.”
“What?!” Tucker’s reaction this time was more explosive. “Why would you allow that? You know what happened and why that wasn’t a good idea!”
“What I knew at that time, Tuck, was that I had a teenage daughter who needed a woman, who needed loving and guiding in ways that I couldn’t love or guide her,” WT said. Getting up from the table, he went to the kitchen counter and looked out the window over his vast cattle ranch.
The sky was a dreary grey, typical of the northern Texas winter. It would snow soon, he was sure of it.
Picking up a plate of biscuits and the coffee pot, he walked back to the table. After refilling everyone’s coffee mugs, he settled back into his chair.
“I told Elizabeth that for her to contact Hope was a step of faith. I told her I couldn’t, wouldn’t, promise her that Hope would want anything to do with her. But I said that if Hope was agreeable to building a friendship, then I would support it. And that’s what happened.”
“Seriously, I can’t believe this. Did neither of you not know one other woman would could be your friend? I mean, really, no one?”
Tucker rose and began to pace the kitchen. “So you’ve been friends for all of these years now? In contact enough that you wanted to give her a place of honor in your wedding.”
“Yes.”
“What has she done for you? You say she’s been a mentor… what has she done for you?”
“What hasn’t she done?” WT answered for Elizabeth.
“She gave me the sex talk, told me how to protect myself…”
“She what?” Zane interrupted, speaking for the first time. “She told you about birth control at twelve?”
“No, you moron. If you’d let me finish. She gave me the talk and told me how to protect myself in terms of being careful about my surroundings and the people I associate with. She took me to self defense classes. And it was all well after I was twelve.
“She took me to my first female doctor appointment. Who do you think bought me girly products? Dad? Not so much. It was Hope.
“When I had my first date, she bought my outfit. And I’m pretty sure she followed me the whole time to make sure my date didn’t try anything. When my first boyfriend broke my heart, it was Hope who talked to me on the phone all night until I stopped crying.
“She helped me fill out my college applications. She let me practically live at her house while I was in school. She fed me, clothed me, took me to the doctor when I was sick.”
“She was the mother Elizabeth didn’t have, Tucker,” WT said. “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you the truth earlier myself, about their relationship. But I couldn’t bring myself to do something that might threaten a good thing for Elizabeth, something she needed.”
“She did all of that for you?”
Elizabeth nodded her head, her eyes filled with tears. “Please, Tucker, help me. I want her there. I screwed up by lying to her, and she’s saying she shouldn’t be there now. Please.”
“She’s the person in the story from earlier? The one who sacrificed for you despite heartache. And I’m the one you want to sacrifice now?”
“I’ve always said if we had to sacrifice someone, it should be you,” Zane said, easing the tension.
Seated at the table again, Tucker swirled his coffee in the big mug. “Seriously. No one? You couldn’t find anyone other than my ex-wife to be your friend?”
****
Zane handed Tucker a cold beer before sitting on the sofa next to his younger brother. The football game was on the television, and neither man said anything for quite some time.
It wasn’t typical these days for brothers to live under the same roof for as long as these two had, but it felt right. When WT built the huge ranch house, everyone in town had laughed about what an odd design it was, with different wings branching off from a common central area. As it turns out, he was just planning ahead.
Each brother had a wing of the house all to himself, as did their father and Elizabeth. With separate entrances, it made it easy for them to lead independent lives while still enjoying the community of family. It also made it much easier to get to work when work was just outside the door on the ranch.
“When are you going to go talk to her?” Zane asked during a commercial break. Tucker didn’t answer.
“You always told me that you had some things you wanted to say to her if you ever saw her again. You said you regretted the way things had ended between the two of you. You have to tell her. Don’t regret this for the rest of your life.”
With that, Zane strode out of the room leaving Tucker alone. He muted the television and leaned his head against the sofa cushions, closing his eyes and seeing Hope again.
They had married in their early twenties. He was in law school, determined not to be a rancher the way his father and brother were. She was an elementary school teacher, determined to save the world one child at a time.
When they first met, he was instantly attracted to Hope. She was petite and curvy with jet black hair and clear blue eyes. And she had the best laugh. He smiled just remembering the sound of her laugh.
Tucker was at a club with a friend when he met Hope. It was a karaoke club, and he and Hope had been paired together. The two of them sang crazy old songs all night and laughed.
Tucker was captivated by her from the start. They married six months later, much to the delight of his family. Hope enjoyed family, loved taking care of people, and she began to take care of his little family that had deeply missed a woman’s love since his mother died.
Thinking about it now, Tucker could see how Elizabeth must have been devastated when he and Hope broke up. After Tucker graduated from law school, he and Hope had moved back to the ranch. Hope began teaching in town, and Tucker set up a little law office not far from the ranch.
Elizabeth had felt Hope’s presence every day for nearly five years when he and Hope divorced. Why hadn’t he realized that before now? Knowing it only added to the guilt he felt.
Hope had grown up pretty much alone, raised by a great-aunt after her parents died when Hope was young. It was a protected childhood but not a loved one. So she felt Elizabeth’s need.
Their marriage had been blissful. Hope had continued to make Tucker laugh, to make the ranch house a home for all of them. They had even begun to talk about having a baby.
And then everything fell apart.
***
Sitting in the rental car parked on the shoulder of the road, Hope blew on her hands to try to rid the chill, though she knew the chill was as much inside her as from the frigid temperatures. She had the heater on full blast in the tiny rental and still was cold.
Two weeks had past since Elizabeth called and apologized, saying she had finally told Tucker and Zane the truth. Tucker had insisted that Elizabeth choose whomever she wanted as her maid of honor and had promised to be civil while Hope was at the ranch.
The majority of the wedding planning was easily done from Hope’s house in a neighboring community, but the final preparations needed to be made at the ranch.
Hope hadn’t seen Tucker in more than five years. They hadn’t met formally for the divorce, just handled everything through the attorneys. She knew generally what was happening in his life because Elizabeth talked about her family, but this was very different.
A rap on the window startled Hope back to reality. WT was leaning down toward the window as she rolled it down.
“Hope, sweetheart, sitting here isn’t going to make him go away. This isn’t going to be easy, and I’m sorry about that. Follow me to the house, and I’ll walk in with you.”
Moments later, standing on the wrap-around porch of the ranch house, WT took Hope’s hand in his. “Thank you. This can’t be easy for you, and I am deeply grateful for what you’re doing for my daughter, for all of us, really.”
WT opened the door, and led Hope into her past.
***
“You decided what you’re going to say to her,” Zane asked Tucker as they sat at the Starbucks. They both knew Hope was already at the ranch house, having seen her car arrive early in the morning. Zane made sure to do what he could to keep Tuck busy and out of the house all day. An urgent trip to town for extra feed seemed like a good reason, and they had essentially practiced avoidance all day in various ways.
Now, over steaming cups of their favorite coffees, Zane had decided it was time for a talk.
“You know you have to say something. You can’t just ignore her for a week. She’s staying at the house. You’re going to run into her.”
“I don’t know. I really don’t, Z. I can’t change what happened between us. I can’t make it right. It’s been five years. I’m sure she’s moved on. I’m surprised she’s not married again. Or maybe she is. I don’t know. Elizabeth didn’t tell much about her, did she?”
Zane laughed. “No, no, she didn’t. Elizabeth seems to be playing this pretty close to the vest, for whatever reason.”
“Which worries me.”
“Don’t. Even if she is married or engaged or involved or entering a convent, if there are things you need to say, say them.”
“You’re a fine one to be talking. Where’s your relationship? Mr. Big Talker should have a relationship, right?”
“Nope. I’m a lifelong bachelor. Committed to the lifestyle. You, on the other hand, are a man who screwed up something good and needs to make it right.”
***
Zane walked in the front door of the house ahead of Tucker and stopped short only a few feet into the house. Tucker ran into his back, nearly knocking them both over.
The house had been transformed. A Christmas tree was in the corner of the large living room, decorated with matching colors and ornaments and ribbons. The lights twinkled, reflecting off the wooden floor. Holly and ivy had been draped over the mantel and holiday candles were arranged all around the room on tall, standing candelabras.
All of the furniture had been moved out of the room, and folding chairs covered with red linen draping were placed in rows down the long room. Each draping was tied in the back of the chair with holly adorning the bow. A fire crackled in the hearth, and the men could smell holiday cookies being made fresh in the kitchen. Christmas music played faintly in the background, and they could hear laughter over the music.
“Hope’s here,” Tucker said.
“This house could use a little hope,” Zane replied. “Come on, let’s go get the initial awkwardness out of the way,” he said, dragging his brother along with him.
As they walked through the common area of the house toward the kitchen, they slowed to take in the transformation. Every room they passed had been touched with holiday adornment - a nativity scene on the table in the foyer, a small tree decorated all in white in the library, ornaments in bowls, snowmen figurines in nooks, another tree in the kitchen.
The laughter stopped abruptly when they entered the kitchen. Elizabeth was standing at the table carefully lifting cookies of the baking sheets and onto cooling racks, while WT sat beside her with a cup of coffee lifting the cookies off the cooling racks and eating them.
Hope turned from the counter to face them. She was wearing faded jeans and a long sleeved tee shirt, a pair of what could only be Elizabeth’s fuzzy socks and a “Snow Great to See You” apron. There was flour on her chin and in her dark hair.
From what Tucker could see, age had served her well. Her figure and her face were more rounded than five years ago, giving her an earth mother look. He smiled. She was more beautiful now than before.
“Hi, boys,” she said smiling and putting down the cookie dough. “I know this is going to be weird with me here for the next week. I’m sorry. I wanted to stay in a hotel, but I met with a bit of an unmovable force on that one,” she said glancing at Elizabeth. “So I figured cookies would soothe the initial weirdness.”
Wiping her hands on her apron, she approached them. Zane stepped in and gave Hope a bear hug. “Your cookies would soothe anything, Hope.” Stepping back from her, he said, “Thank you for doing this for Elizabeth.”
“I’d do anything for her,” Hope said.
Zane moved aside, headed for the table where he joined his father in snagging the cookies Elizabeth was trying to put on the cooling rack. The three began talking, trying to give Hope and Tucker a sense of aloneness even in the crowded room.
“Hello, Tucker,” Hope said, extending her hand to shake Tucker’s. He returned the gesture, holding her hand a moment longer than necessary, registering how soft and warm it felt in his.
“Hope.” He was sure he should say something else, but he didn’t seem to be able to make his mouth form the words.
“Hey, Hope. You gonna cook the whole time you’re here?” Zane asked, distracting Hope and giving his brother a moment to collect his thoughts.
“Of course I am, Z. Your dad has the best kitchen around. I wouldn’t want to waste the opportunity.”
“Good, good,” he said, putting an entire Snickerdoodle in his mouth at once.
“Stop eating those!” Elizabeth smacked his hand with the spatula. “We’re doing a holiday wedding and we’re having all holiday foods at the reception. These aren’t for your personal enjoyment.”
“I’m enjoying them,” Zane said smiling. “Personally,” WT said.
Hope laughed and hugged Elizabeth. “We’ll make plenty, I promise. No guest will go without a cookie at your wedding.” Tucker stood as if frozen, looking in on the scene. This is what his entire life should have looked like, he thought, except with lots of little kids running around stealing cookies, too. How could he have been so foolish?
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What do you think?
If you came looking for the Menu Plan Monday, here’s my plan for the week…
WING IT!
Yep, that’s it. Work with it. If you need recipes, go over to Org Junkie to find those. I’m thinking about other things. I won’t bore you with the details of those things right now, but one of those is something I need some opinions regarding.
So you get to vote. Be harsh. Don’t be kind here. That’s not what this is about. (My supe does these file reviews & I’m always telling him, ‘now, don’t be nice. Be as hard and mean on my files as you can because I want to learn this even if it means I don’t do as well right now.’ I think I confuse him a bit. Anyway.)
I’ve always wanted to write sappy love stories. I don’t, of course, but I’ve always wanted to do that. If I could do anything, I’d have a hard time deciding between writing sappy love stories, editing sappy love stories & making tons of jewelry. As it is, I make a little jewelry and write the occasional story.
Usually, the stories I write are for my friend, Mika, for Christmas. She’s a sweetie & always loves them, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they’re any good, you know, as she loves me. (I actually found the first story I ever wrote for Mika just the other day in my hope chest. I may type it up and post it soon.)
So, here’s what I need. Click the “My Short Stories” tab at the top of the page, read a little or a lot of one or both stories & tell me if you think I should bother trying the NaNoWritMo in November. It’s intimidating but intriguing.
So read a bit. Comment a bit. Let me know what you think. Thank you, in advance.
Filed under Jewelry, Most Everything | Permalink | Comments (2)Tagged with: Mika • NaNoWritMo • short stories
