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"I'm sorry, Papa," I cried. "I'm trying, but I can't help how I feel."
"You should feel blessed," Emily inserted. "You're going to participate in one of the most sacred of sacraments—marriage—and you should think of it only as that," she lectured, looking down her long thin nose at me pompously.
"I can't think of my marriage as a sacrament; it's more like a curse," I retorted. "I'm being treated no better than the slaves were treated before the Civil War, traded off like a horse or a cow."
"Damn!" Papa cried, smashing the table with his fist. The dishes jumped. "If you embarrass me tomorrow . . ."
"Don't worry, Papa," I said with a sigh. "I will walk down the aisle and take Bill Cutler's hand in marriage. I'll recite the words, but that's all it will be, a recital. I won't mean any vow I take."
"If you put your hand on the Bible and lie—" Emily began to threaten.
"Stop it, Emily. Do you think God is deaf and dumb? Do you think He can't read our hearts and minds? What good is my saying believe the words of the marriage vows I take, if in my heart I won't?" I sat back. "Someday, Emily, you might see that God has something to do with love and truth as well as with punishment and retribution and you will realize just how much you have missed sitting in the dark," I told her. I got up before she could respond and left her and Papa in the dining room to chew on their ugly thoughts.
I didn't sleep much at all. Instead, I sat by my window and watched the night sky become more and more star-studded. Toward morning, a wave of clouds slipped over the horizon and began to cover the tiny, twinkling diamonds. I closed my eyes and fell asleep for a while and when I awoke again, I saw that i
t would be a dull, gray day with rain threatening to fall. It added to my gloom and doom. I didn't go down for breakfast. Vera anticipated my action and came up with a tray of hot tea and oatmeal.
"You better get something in you," she advised, "or you'll pass out at the altar."
"Maybe I'd be better off, Vera," I said, but I listened to her and ate as much as I could. I heard some of the people hired to help at the reception arriving downstairs and the preparations to decorate and set up the ballroom begin. Shortly afterward, some of Mamma's and Papa's cousins began to arrive. A few had come from more than a hundred miles away. The musicians appeared and as soon as they turned up their instruments, there was music. Before long, the plantation had a festive air about it. The aromas of luscious foods traveled through the corridors and the dark, old place was filled with light and noise and the chatter of excitement. Despite the way I felt, I couldn't help but be pleased by the changes.
Charlotte and Luther were very excited with the arrival of all the guests and servants. Some of Mamma's and Papa's relatives had never seen Charlotte and doted on her. Afterward, Vera brought her up to my room to see me. She had made her a fancy little dress, too, and she did look adorable. She was eager to go back downstairs and join Luther and not miss a thing.
"At least the children are happy," I muttered. My eyes fell on the clock. With each tick, the hands were being drawn closer and closer to the hour when I would have to emerge from my room and descend the stairs to the notes of "Here Comes the Bride." Only to me it felt more like I was descending the stairs to my execution.
Vera pressed my hand and smiled.
"You look very beautiful, honey," she said. "Your mother would be bursting with pride."
"Thank you, Vera. How I wish Tottie was still here and Henry."
She nodded, took Charlotte's little hand and left me to wait for the clock to strike the hour. Not that many years ago, when Mamma was alive and well, I dreamt of how she and I would spend my wedding day. We would spend hours and hours at her vanity table planning out every strand of my hair. Then we'd experiment with rouge and lipstick. I would have my own wedding dress created with matching shoes and veil. Mamma would dwell over her jewelry box to decide what precious bracelet or necklace I would wear.
After all that I was going to wear had been chosen and the preparations completed, we would sit for hours and hours and talk. I would listen to her memories of her own wedding and Mamma would give me advice about how to act on my first night with my new husband. Then, when I came down the stairs, I would see her gazing up at me with proud, loving eyes. We would exchange smiles and glances like two conspirators who had plotted out every delicious moment. She would reach out and squeeze my hand before I stepped up to the altar and after it was over, she would be the first to hug and kiss me and wish me all the luck and happiness life had to offer. I would cry and feel frightened when I finally left to go on my honeymoon, but Mamma's smile would soothe me and I would be strong enough to start my own wonderful, married life.
Instead of all that, I sat alone in my dreary room and listened to the dreadful tick-tock of my clock with nothing but my own dark thoughts to accompany me.
I wiped away the inevitable tears and sucked in my breath when I heard the music grow louder and when I heard Papa's footsteps in the hallway. He had come to escort me to the top of the stairway. He had come to give me away, to trade me off and repair the blunders of his own ways. I stood up and greeted him with a face of stone when he opened my door.
"Ready?" he asked.
"As much as I'll ever be," I said. He smirked, tugged on his mustache and held out his arm.
I took it and started out, pausing at the doorway to look back at my room, a room that had been a prison to me at one point. But I thought I saw Niles's face in the window looking in and smiling. I smiled back, closed my eyes, pretended it was he waiting for me below, and walked on with Papa.
I stepped down slowly, afraid that my legs would shatter like glass and send me tumbling head over heels down the spiraling stairway to the feet of the smiling guests, now all seated and waiting. I focused on Miss Walker who smiled up at me and I gathered my strength. Papa nodded at some of his friends. I saw the faces of my future husband's friends, strangers who were gazing up at me with close scrutiny to see who had captured Bill Cutler's heart. A few smiled with the same sort of licentious grins; the others remained interested, curious.
We paused at the base of the stairs. The gathering applauded. Ahead of us, the minister waited with Bill Cutler. He turned and flashed his arrogant smile at me as I was led down the aisle like a lamb to slaughter. He did look handsome in his tuxedo with his wavy dark hair brushed neatly on the sides. I saw Emily sitting up front, with Charlotte beside her sitting up properly, her big eyes following everyone's movement and widening when she saw me approaching. Papa brought me up front and stood back. The music stopped. Someone coughed. I heard light laughter from Bill's friends, and then the minister raised his eyes toward the ceiling and began.
He offered two prayers, one longer than the other. Then he nodded to Emily and she began the hymn. The guests were fidgety, but neither he nor Emily cared. When the service finally ended, the minister focused his sad eyes on me, eyes I always felt belonged in an undertaker's head, and began to recite the wedding vows. As soon as he asked, "Who gives this woman to be this bride?" Papa lunged forward and boasted, "I do." Bill Cutler smiled, but I looked down as the minister continued, describing how sacred and serious marriage was before he got to the part where he asked me if I took this man to be my lawful, wedded husband.
Slowly, I let my gaze wash over my future husband's face and the miracle I prayed for occurred. I didn't see Bill Cutler; I saw Niles, sweet and handsome, smiling at me with love just the way he had time after time at the magic pond.
"I do," I said. I never heard Bill Cutler's vows, but when the minister pronounced us man and wife, I felt him lift my veil and press his lips to mine eagerly, kissing me so hard and long it brought a few gasps out of the audience. My eyes snapped open and I gazed at Bill Cutler's face, swollen with pleasure. There was a cheer and the guests rose to offer their congratulations. Every one of my new husband's friends gave me a kiss and wished me luck, winking when they did so. One young man said, "You'll need lots of it, being married to this scoundrel." Finally, I was able to step aside to speak with Miss Walker.
"I wish you all the happiness and health life can offer, Lillian," she said, hugging me.
"And I wish I was still in your class, Miss Walker. I wish it was years ago and I was just a little girl again eager to be taught and excited by every little thing I learned."
