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One
Once upon a time, Cate Penland had predicted she would have it all. Now, with this huge, perfect wedding at an Atlanta cathedral in front of twelve hundred guests, her dreams were coming true. A great marriage, and soon to be an interesting career.
Serious words interrupted her private jubilation.
“Jason, wilt thou have Cate to be thy wedded wife, to live together in the covenant of marriage...”
She zoned out momentarily. A no-expense-spared, traditional event wasn’t how she used to imagine her special day. At thirteen or fourteen, she had dreamed of a low-key, romantic wedding.
But to be fair, she had fully participated in planning this enormous, glitzy social affair.
She was pinning her hopes on family and home.
She and Jason were good together. Their life would be as perfect as Cate could make it.
Once they were settled in a place of their own, the plan to open a trendy art gallery and gift shop would meld their individual talents and interests—his photography and Cate’s artistic bent.
Cateneededto know that life wouldn’t knock her down again, not like it had when she was twelve. Today, she was insulating herself against pain.
She was going to be gloriously happy.
The old priest’s sonorous words wafted over her head and disappeared into the shadows of the soaring vaulted ceiling. A benediction of light filtered through ornate stained glass windows, painting the wedding party in a soft rainbow palette.
The first Saturday in June was the ideal and most highly sought-after wedding date at St. Matthew’s Episcopal Cathedral on West Paces Ferry Road in the ritzy Buckhead neighborhood of Atlanta. Half a dozen brides had wanted the venue. Cate’s father had written a six-figure check to the building fund, and the deed was done.
The female attendants included her sister and four of Cate’s dearest friends. Two of the four, shy Leah and reserved Gabby, had known Cate since they were childhood classmates at Blossom Branch Elementary School. Their lives had zigged and zagged because of financial circumstances and other realities, but they had reconnected as freshmen at the University of Georgia, and their friendship had deepened exponentially. The other two bridesmaids, Lara and Ivy, were also college relationships, shorter in nature, but no less important. All four of the women had been fellow sorority sisters with Cate. Zeta Zeta Pi.
Cate had dragged Leah and Gabby into Greek life knowing they needed her support. Leah’s extreme shyness and Gabby’s money woes had made entering college challenging. Cate had tried to smooth the rough edges for her friends.
Despite her mother’s vehement objections to the nontraditional, Cate had elected to outfit her bridesmaids all in white, with only narrow black sashes for accent. Cate loved the crisp, modern look. In this golden moment, she knew she had made the right decision.
Behind her, a gratifying crowd sat shoulder to shoulder in the honey-colored wooden pews polished by decades of worshippers. The air-conditioning in the lovely, decades-old stone building labored to keep up. Cate’s forehead and hands were damp. She gripped her bouquet of white roses and eucalyptus and tried to breathe. The wedding party carried calla lilies and freesias. The combined scent of the flowers in the close quarters at the altar smelled a little toofuneral homefor Cate’s comfort.
Her old hometown of Blossom Branch would have been so much more suited to Cate’s love of simplicity than this big Atlanta event. But her parents had insisted they had too many friends and business associates to have their elder daughter tie the knot in a tiny, semi-rural community, no matter how charming.
Why was she so nervous? Today was the culmination of her life plan. If she had made a few concessions, it was only natural. That’s what grown-ups did. Unlike her parents, who fought frequently, Cate had chosen to marry her very best friend. Jason would give her security. Everything else would flow from there.
Her stomach curled as the mixed floral scents intensified. She shifted from one foot to the other, desperately glad she had opted to wear ballet slippers instead of heels. Swallowing hard, she tried to focus.
Then she realized something was awry. The priest had repeated a line from the script.
“Jason, wilt thou have Cate to be thy wedded wife, to live together in the covenant of marriage...” The familiar words continued.
Oh, God. Had she spaced out so long she’d missed her cue? Had they backed up to give her another chance?
Confused, she stared at the priest. His wrinkled face reflected mild alarm and consternation. The silence grew.
The priest had asked a question, and the groom was hesitating.
Cate looked up at Jason. Dear, handsome Jason. They had known each other since kindergarten. He was the gentlest, most dependable, compassionate man she had ever known.
His brilliant blue eyes filled with tears. She had never seen him cry. Not once. Not ever.
“I’m sorry, Cate,” he said. He shot the priest an apologetic glance. “Give us a minute.”
Jason took her hand and tugged until she had no choice but to follow him. It was a good thing she had decided a train was too fussy for her personal style. Even so, the skirt was voluminous. Somehow, they dodged the giant tiers of candles and the cascading ferns and found a tiny pocket of floor space.
It was hardly private.
