McKenna cringed at the memory of her father’s words when he and her mother had come to hear her a cappella group performance. Uncertainty and anxiety tore through her, making her heart race and clouding her vision. “I wish I could, but I can’t. Katharine and Rainy will have to settle for an instrumental version.”
“What if they won’t?” Zane sank onto the pew beside her and flashed her a mischievous grin. “I’ve been told brides can be very particular about wedding details.”
“No fair using my words against me.”
“You’re saying that because it’s right.”
Singing wasn’t her job. If she sounded like a cat with its tail caught under a rocking chair, no one would expect her to step in. Why should she be expected to because she had a decent voice?
The large double church doors opened behind them. While she and Zane couldn’t see who entered, feminine voices and laughter floated toward them. They’d run out of time.
She’d hold a bride’s dress out of the way while she peed. She’d clear debris from the outside ceremony area after a storm blew through. She’d run to an ATM for cash when a couple forgot money to pay the minister, but she refused to fill in for a singer.
McKenna turned to Zane. “I’ll lay out the situation with Katharine and then Rainy, explaining how Jennifer and I called every replacement we knew, and unless they know of someone, our only option is Martin playing piano arrangements. Hopefully, they’ll understand there is nothing more that can be done.”
His right eyebrow crooked upward at her last statement, as if to say there was something she could do.
“Stop saying that.”
“I didn’t say a word.”
“But you were thinking I could fix this problem, but I can’t.” She reached out to him, her hands fluttering before she placed them on his forearm. “I need you to support me on this. Please?”
He nodded. “You’re in charge.”
She jerked away and glared at him. “That is so not funny.”
When she and Zane stepped into the narthex, rather than jumping into the singer problem, McKenna commented how lovely Katharine’s hair looked in the upswept style she’d chosen. She asked if she had gotten a good night’s sleep, and if there was anything she needed. Then McKenna asked if she and Zane could speak to her alone.
Once in the cry room off the sanctuary, McKenna asked Katharine to sit in the wing chair and closed the door. Then she explained the situation, including all they’d done to locate another singer.
Katharine paled, her lower lip trembled, and her hands clenched the chair’s arms. “I could handle the disappointment, but this will crush Rainy.”
“Unfortunately, we’ve run out of time and people to call.” McKenna sank into the matching chair beside Katharine and placed her hand on the woman’s arm. “I wish there was another option, but Martin is an extraordinary pianist. I’m sure the arrangements he’s selected are beautiful. When he gets here, we’ll have him play them for you.”
There is another option. You simply refuse to consider it. You’re letting your fear keep you from making their day perfect. You’re failing them.
“This feels like one more example of the world being against us. First the assistant at the wedding shop in Dallas. Her entire attitude changed once she discovered I was marrying another woman. She still altered my dress, but clearly she was uncomfortable and didn’t approve.” Tears filled Katharine’s eyes and spilled down her cheeks. “Rainy’s had a difficult relationship with her parents and grandparents. She comes from a long line of conservative Oklahoma farmers. She’s always been bohemian artistic, a free spirit, and that was before she came out to them. Don’t get me wrong. They always loved her, but they don’t understand her, and struggle relating to her.”
“Tell me about why this song means so much to Rainy,” Zane asked from his spot against the wall by the door.
“She thought if we had the same song in our ceremony as her parents and grandparents, it would help them make a connection to us. Maybe it could help them see our wedding isn’t that different from theirs.”
“We need to hear what Rainy has to say,” Zane said.
Katharine nodded, called Rainy, and after putting her on speaker, explained the dilemma. “Jennifer and McKenna have called everyone they can think of. There’s nothing else we can do.”
McKenna cringed. She could help. If she chose to.
“A piano arrangement of ‘Oh, Promise Me’ won’t be the same. People need to hear the lyrics, especially my father. I can’t get married without that song beingsung.”
The anguish and desperation in Rainy’s voice tore into McKenna. How could she refuse to help forge a connection between generations with different views on marriage?
She’d been terrified to sing before she knew the importance of the song to Rainy, but now? Call her as paralyzed as a tree in the petrified forest. How could she handle the responsibility and pressure? What would happen if she tried singing and botched the song? That could ruin the entire ceremony. How could she risk that? But how could she live with herself if she could have helped, but refused because of her fear?
How could she choose between two risky options? Goodness, she wished Ginny, with her calm, no-nonsense approach. and wisdom was here. Then she wouldn’t have to make this decision alone. Wait. She wasn’t alone. But how much help would Zane be with his cynical views on marriage? Right now, she even welcomed his advice. Anything rather than making the decision alone.
When she joined Zane near the door, she leaned close and whispered in his ear. “I don’t know what to do. They appear both defeated and hopeless. I fear not having the song will ruin their wedding. But I’m scared if I try to sing it, I’ll massacre the song and that will ruin their wedding.”
