“You’re welcome.”
I slip the ring on my thumb and rub my index finger across the metal, lost in the memory of when I first discovered it.
After our father died, Bev and I were the ones who cleaned out his home. It was a huge undertaking as he was a self-proclaimed hoarder and kept everything. Once we sorted through the junk and miscellaneous items we either threw away or donated, we decided what we wanted to keep for ourselves.
Beverly kept several pieces of furniture, some artwork, and all the fine china and crystal. I, on the other hand, insisted I keep the cedar chest filled with his poetry journals. I discovered his wedding band taped on the front page of a tattered spiral notebook entitledViola. The wide-ruled pages filled with sappy love sonnets about our mother gave me a glimpse into how he really felt about her.
I had no idea.
I remember sitting on the floor of my guest room and reading the entire notebook, the stanzas, the metaphors, and the imagery so corny yet undeniably so provocative that I couldn’t stop. I was in awe of this handwritten love story to my mom and realized he loved her deeply until the very end.
Even after she broke his heart during their divorce.
When George asked me to marry him, I knew I wanted to give him my dad’s ring. Not because I needed a token for the ceremony at the last minute, but because it was something precious to me. A gift for my future husband.
A wedding ring represents a lifelong commitment. It represents love. My dad would’ve been thrilled to pass his ring to George. It’s a cherished family heirloom and a God-wink from the heavens. This gold band is a full-circle moment.
And I’m more than ready.
Bev and I walk arm in arm toward the main house front porch.
“You ready for this?” she asks.
“Yes. I’m so glad you’re here.”
“I’ve got your cream-colored suit hanging in the backseat of my car. The one with the little pearls hand-sewn on the lapels. And I brought several shoeboxes of your designer heels. I couldn’t figure out which pair would go best with your suit.”
I smile, knowing Beverly has my best interests at heart. “I’m sure whatever you grabbed will be fine. And if they’re not, I’ll just wear my cowboy boots.”
Bev stops halfway up the porch steps and stares at me. “Cowboy boots? Who are you, and what have you done with my sister?”
I laugh, my joyous tone noticeable. “Get used to it. This will probably be the last time you see me this dressed up in a suit and heels.”
Beverly shakes her head. “I’m literally in shock.” Her focus shifts to the buckets of daylilies on the porch, her eyes going wide.
“Good gosh, look at all those beautiful flowers. Is that where the magnificent smell is coming from?” She sniffs the air.
“No. It’s the lavender you smell. The fields are dormant, but the scent is embedded in everything on this farm, including George.”
“That’s it! Wow.” She leads me to the side-by-side rocking chairs, and we sit.
“I can’t believe you did it. I can’t believe you finally quit your job and started living your life. You look amazing, sistah.”
“Thank you. I feel amazing.”
“Change agrees with you. Do you have everything under control? You’ve only got about three hours until you’re hitched.”
Sitting next to her, I look out over the land. “I’m not worried. Everything will be ready to go. See those cars you parked next to?”
“Yeah?”
“Some of the townspeople are here. They’re inside the house putting together food and drinks for our reception. It’s amazing how they’ve rallied together for us. I’m telling you, Bev, there’s something endearing about small-town folks. You’re going to love every single one of them.”
I tell her all about Miss Jenny and her twin, Janie. Miss Simpkins, Mr. Garcia, and a handful of hospice nurses, including our favorite, Nurse Gale. And I give her the rundown on a few of Ralph’s favorite farmhands who were invited to the ceremony, minus Kip Johnson, of course. George and I agreed we didn’t want him at our wedding.
Earlier, I stood by George’s side when he told Kip our wedding news.
His jaw clenched, and he shot me with an evil glare before he mumbled, “Congratulations.”
