Jamie turned and smiled. “You still want to marry Monteith?” he asked.
“More than ever. I’m in love with him. I can’t help myself.”
“Then get busy. You have some heavy duty preparations to make,” he said, then glanced at his watch. “I’m going to the yacht club. There are some people I haven’t seen for a long time, and I’m looking forward to my first martini. Call me if you need me. Meanwhile, the joint’s yours.” He turned and left Christine in his six thousand square foot winter home, one he had purchased seven years earlier for slightly more than ten million dollars. One of the area’s finest and most desirable residences, it featured three hundred feet of frontage on the Gulf of Mexico, a view of the Gulf from all of its twelve rooms, an indoor pool with a vaulted plexiglass roof, a four car garage, a billiard room with an independent kitchen, and six propane fireplaces, all framed with cut stone, hand carved wood, and imported marble.
One of the highlights of Jamie Stewart’s annual social calendar was the New Years Eve party he threw at his Naples home. His plan for this year’s extravaganza was to take it to another level, to spare no expense to ensure that no guest would forget the marriage of his one and only daughter.
Christine spent the afternoon checking and rechecking her wedding dress, her honeymoon clothes, and the myriad of detail related to her wedding, now only two days away. At four-thirty, she poured herself a glass of white wine and stared at herself, naked, in front of a full length mirror. She focused on her flat stomach and struggled to suppress her recurring depression. She hated herself for her decision to terminate her pregnancy. Worse, she worried again about how and when she was going to tell Steve.
She tore herself from the mirror, put on her leopard skin print bikini, then covered herself with a pink and gold embroidered and fringed front dress. Seconds later, she ran to the front door to see who rang the doorbell. She smiled, opened the door and gave Jennifer Adams a big hug. “Great to see you. I knew you would be the first,” she said, holding the hug.
“I had to pinch myself when I saw this incredible place. I thought I was Cinderella.”
“Come on in. I’ll show you around.”
Jennifer turned and pointed to her rented white Chevrolet. “What about my carriage? Will it turn into a pumpkin? I left my bags in the…”
“Leave them. We’ll get them later,” Christine interrupted. “Have a glass of wine with me and chill out.”
Christine poured the wine, then gave her guest a tour of the house, ending on two luxurious wicker chairs on one of the three stone porches facing the Gulf.
Jennifer sipped her wine, then faced Christine with a worried expression. “Have you told Steve yet?’ she asked.
Christine tightened her lips and shook her head.
“Terrific. So what are you thinking? I hope you’re not going to wait until after he’s married to you.”
“I haven’t made up my mind about that, and please don’t bug me about it.” Christine gave Jennifer a threatening scowl. “It’s my life. Let me live it my way.”
Jennifer held both hands up, as if in surrender. “You’ve got it, honey, but don’t ask me to agree with you. I think you owe him the truth.” She paused to take another sip of wine. “Okay. I’ve said my piece on that, but there’s another thing that’s been bugging me.”
“What?”
“You never did thank me for spending three hours with you at that clinic in Toronto. I think you owe me that.”
“Oh, Jennifer. I’m so sorry. How could I have been so stupid? Of course I owe you that. Please accept my sincere apology, and thank you for being there for me. You’re a wonderful friend.”
Jennifer was not yet appeased. “Sure, if I’m such a wonderful friend, how come you didn’t ask me to be your maid of honor?”
Again Christine was caught off guard. She had to think fast. “… I wanted to, but I couldn’t. I had to ask Dana Snyder. I’ve known her forever. She’s been my closest friend since we started at Branksome Hall. We always promised, on penalty of death, that we’d be maid of honor for each other,” she lied.
The doorbell interrupted their conversation. Both put down their glasses and hurried to the front door to greet the four remaining members of the wedding party: Dana Snyder, a tall extremely attractive brunette, Kelly Forsythe, Wendy Cox, and Daphne Richardson, all former classmates of Christine at Branksome Hall. The girls had taken an Air Canada direct flight from Toronto to Tampa, rented a van, and endured the two hour drive south on I-75 to Naples.
Christine hugged and welcomed each of her guests, introduced them to Jennifer, then led them to the porch where she and Jennifer had been sitting. “You guys get some more chairs, and I’ll get the wine,” she ordered, then headed for the kitchen. She scooped two bottles from the wine cooler, grabbed four glasses, then hurried to rejoin her guests.
“This place is unbelievable. How do you survive here?” Dana asked.
Christine chuckled. “It’s a struggle, but we make do,” she said, then raised her hands, signifying her request for silence. “I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of planning our weekend. None of it’s cast in stone, so feel free to change any of it. My nose won’t be out of joint… We’re going to stay here tonight, so go ahead and get smashed. The wedding caterer is waiting for our pizza orders, so start thinking about what toppings you want. He told me he’ll have it here within twenty minutes of my phone call.”
“What about tomorrow?” Kelly asked.
Christine displayed a huge smile. “Are you ready for this? We have the exclusive use of a big long private limousine for the entire day. It’s a wedding present from my father… I need a show of hands. Who’s interested in using it to go shopping?”
Six hands went skyward in an instant.
“What’s with the wine, Christine?” Daphne asked. “Aren’t you supposed to be off the booze?”
Again caught off guard, Christine shot a nervous glance at Jennifer, then gathered herself. She lifted her glass and stared at it. “Sorry. I thought this was milk,” she said, hating herself for her oversight, and disappointed that to preserve her secret, she would have to spend the entire weekend alcohol free.
CHAPTER 38
Naples, Florida. Monday, December 31, 2001. 4:30 P.M.
As if prescribed by some supernatural mystical force, wishing to countenance the marriage of Christine Ann Stewart to Steve William Monteith, the weather was perfect, no clouds, no humidity, a gentle breeze from the north. The temperature hovered near seventy-five.
The wedding planner, Naples’ finest and most expensive, had done a sensational job. She admitted that she had an extraordinary site to begin with, but still, setting it up to accommodate two hundred and sixty guests was a challenge. The center-piece of the transformation, a very large gazebo, complete with Gothic columns, was erected in the back yard, just short of the berm separating the manicured lawn from the beach. Elegant white wooden chairs with arm rests and thick cushions had been strategically placed in such a way that each guest would have a view of the gazebo and the beautiful blue Gulf beyond. Tall, stately California Fan Palm trees, planted years earlier, provided shade to most of the viewing area. A quintet, consisting of guitarist, cellist, harpist, pianist and female soloist, played to the delight of the congregation.
“Nice job,” Jamie Stewart said to Nicky DeAngelo, the wedding planner. “I’d use you again, but I’m out of daughters.” He handed her a check and smiled. “This is a down payment. Now I want you to get your people over to the Ritz-Carlton and take this show over the top. Will you do that for me?”
“I’m on my way,” Nicky replied.
Jamie, dressed in the finest tuxedo money could buy, turned to his daughter, resplendent in her full length, white Casablanca designed wedding dress, “Last chance, Christine. You can pull the plug on this deal right now. I won’t bat an eyelash. It’s a big move in you
r life, sweetheart. Once you’ve made it, reversing it is difficult.”
Christine shook her head and hugged her father. “Let’s do it. I’ll never reverse it,” she vowed.
Jamie smiled, reached for her hand, then signaled to the doorman.
The French doors were opened and the wedding procession began. As father and daughter traversed the huge stone porch, descended the steps, then walked slowly in the direction of the gazebo, the quintet played Joe Cocker’s ‘You Are So Beautiful.’ Steve, dressed in a rented tuxedo, turned and smiled as he watched the approach of his beautiful bride to be. He was nervous, but happy. He was about to marry the woman who was carrying his child.
Jaime released Christine’s hand when she was at Steve’s side. The entire wedding party hushed when the justice of the peace raised his arms skyward. A tall thin man with thick dark eyebrows and a shock of white hair, he wore a black suit, white tie. “Who giveth this woman in marriage?” he asked, his loud baritone voice shattering the silence.
“We do!” the entire wedding party shouted, totally obscuring Jamie’s response and igniting gales of laughter from the guests. Jamie kissed his daughter’s cheek, then took his seat in the front row of the bride’s section. He was flanked by Vicky Anschutz, and Carol, his first wife and Christine’s mother.
The music stopped and the justice began, “Christine and Stephen, today you celebrate one of life’s greatest moments and give recognition to the worth and beauty of love, as you join together in vows of marriage.” He faced Steve. “Stephen, do you take Christine to be your wife, to love, honor, cherish and protect her, forsaking all others and holding only unto her?”
“I do.”
“Christine, do you take Stephen to be your husband, to love, honor, cherish and protect him, forsaking all others and holding only unto him?”
“I do.”
The justice nodded to Steve, prompting him to state his vows.
Steve accepted a gold ring from Tom MacDonald, his best man, then faced his bride to be. “Christine, I take you to be my wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and health, and promise to love you ’till death do us part.” He placed the ring on Christine’s finger.
Christine accepted a gold ring from Dana Snyder, her maid of honor, then faced her husband to be. “Steve, I take you to be my husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and health, and promise to love you ’till death do us part.” She placed the ring on his finger.
The justice then held both of their hands together and said, “Just as two very different threads, woven in opposite directions can form a beautiful tapestry, so too can your lives merge together to form a beautiful marriage. To make your marriage succeed will take love. It should be the core of your marriage. It is the reason you are here. But it will also take trust, to know in your hearts you want the best for each other, to learn and grow together, even when this is not easy. It will take faith, to be willing to face your tomorrows, never really knowing what they will bring. And it will take commitment, to hold true to the journey you have pledged to share.
Christine and Stephen, in so much as you have agreed to live together in matrimony, and by your vows have promised your love for each other, I now, by the power vested in me by the State of Florida, declare you Husband and Wife.”
He released their hands and smiled at Steve. “Go ahead. Kiss your bride.”
Cheers and whistles erupted as Steve embraced Christine and gave her a long and passionate kiss, and the quintet played Etta James’ ‘At Last.’
Monty Kaplan jabbed his elbow into Michael Monteith’s ribs. “Who’s the fox in the third row? She’s sitting behind your mother. She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I think I’m in love.”
Michael recognized her immediately. “You’ve seen her on television. Her name is Kerri King. She’s the president of that company that was almost completely wiped out in The World Trade Center. I think the company’s name is Iacardi.”
“What a goddess!” Kaplan said, continuing his shameless stare at Kerri, who was stunning in her full length black skirt and white silk blouse.
While the entire wedding party retired to the house for the signing of official wedding documents, Jamie stood and proceeded to the middle of the gazebo. He took the microphone from the soloist, and faced the audience with a big smile. “I just lost my daughter, but I’m just getting started,” he said, drawing more laughter. “I want to thank all of you for taking the time to share with me the happiest day of my life. I also want to remind you that the people at the Ritz-Carlton are expecting us in thirty minutes. They’re going to serve us drinks and feed us. I’ll warn you that you’ll be subjected to a number of boring speeches, so be prepared. If you survive them, however, you’re invited right back here, to enjoy the climax of this incredible day. I’m going to treat you to the biggest, baddest New Years Eve party you’ve ever experienced.”
Kerri, oblivious to Kaplan’s stare and barely listening to Jamie Stewart’s speech, was struggling to understand why Steve had behaved as he did. After making such an overt move in her direction, he had failed to contact her again, and married Christine. She wondered if it was something she said or did, but whatever it was, he had dumped her. It seemed odd to her that a man she had categorized as kind and considerate would have done so without making any attempt to communicate with her. She had mistakenly believed that their budding relationship deserved more than that.
CHAPTER 39
The Ritz-Carlton, Naples. 5:30 P.M.
The hotel staff and the wedding planner had done it all with class and precision. The hotel’s ballroom was decorated for a wedding befitting royalty. The weather had also done its part, treating the guests to a spectacular sunset over the beautiful blue and tranquil Gulf of Mexico.
The reception line was ready, smiling, and guarding the entrance to the ballroom. It consisted of Christine and Steve, their respective wedding parties, Jamie Stewart, Vicky Anschutz, Carol Stewart-Martin, and Helen Monteith, Steve’s mother. As Kerri approached the line directly behind her father and Karen, her first eye contact with Steve was like a high voltage current had passed between the two. His facial expression spoke volumes. She knew in an instant that her presence had given him discomfort. She allowed herself the luxury of believing he regretted not contacting her, but resolved to do what she could to put him at ease. He was a friend, and that was all he could ever be.
“Kerri, I’m so glad you came,” Steve said, displaying his irresistible smile. He grasped her hand and kissed her cheek. “I hope you don’t mind. I’ve included you in my speech.”
Kerri was temporarily at a loss for words, but was reminded of why she had given him a ten when she met him in Muskoka in September. He looked so handsome, so happy, so unavailable. “Thanks for inviting me, and no, I don’t mind.” She glanced behind her to see a large and growing lineup. “I should move. I’m holding everyone up. Congratulations, Steve,” she said with the best smile she could muster, then continued on to greet Christine. “Congratulations, Christine. You’ve married a wonderful man,” she said, reaching for her hand.
Christine did not extend her hand. “Thanks,” she said, expressionless, then turned to present a gigantic smile to the woman behind Kerri. Christine had left no doubt that she regarded Kerri as a threat.
Cocktails were served for forty-five minutes, then Tom MacDonald, the master of ceremonies, lifted the microphone to his lips and called everyone to dinner. The guests all took their designated seats and were treated to a wonderful dinner of either fillet mignon or lobster, or both. An army of servers ensured that all wine glasses were constantly filled with the hotel’s most expensive selections.
The first to speak was Dana Snyder, who spoke well, but prattled on about private school experiences with her best friend Christine, and their happy, care free days of wealth and privilege. To some, a large part of her presentation sounded like a character assassination when
she referred to Christine’s intensely competitive nature, and the trouble it had caused her. “I have to compliment her, however. She deserves it. There isn’t a single person at Wellesley during those years who wouldn’t get down on her knees and thank Christine for her competitiveness, and for the contribution she made to Wellesley blue… For so long I have known her, Christine had been a live wire, the life of every party. She has never, ever refused to take a position on anything, or to speak her mind. She is, quite literally, a fire looking for a place to burn.” She raised her glass. “To Christine Stewart, the life of the party and my best friend.”
Christine stood and smiled. “Thanks, Dana, for all your kind, and not so kind words. I promise never to get you into trouble again, until the next time… At this time, I would like to thank my father, without who’s contribution we wouldn’t be in this wonderful place and enjoying this fabulous day… I would also like to thank my mother, for traveling all the way from France to be here for me… I would also like to thank my bridesmaids, for being here, for partying with me, and for helping me into this incredibly expensive wedding dress.” She turned to face Steve. “Finally, I would like to thank you, Steve, for being here for me, for being my soul mate, for teaching me how to love, and for agreeing to spend the rest of your life with me… I love you.”
Next to speak was Tom MacDonald, who referred to Steve as his best friend, but also a man whom he has yet to, and may never understand. He explained it by giving several examples. The first was about his love life. He said that Steve was, without question, the best looking man in Muskoka. “Girls we all would have died for ignored us and fought with each other to be in his company. Instead of taking advantage of his advantage, he broke their hearts and chose none of them. It was as if he had a higher calling,” MacDonald said. The next example was about Steve’s athletic skill. He said, “Steve was a gifted athlete. He was so good, he saw everything in slow motion, while us mere mortals saw everything in real time. He could have gone on to be a professional at virtually any sport he chose, but didn’t. He chose poverty and obscurity over fame and a multi-million dollar salary.” His final example featured Steve’s career choice. “In addition to being an untouchable stud and a great athlete, he was a good student, good enough to be offered a Rhodes Scholarship. Confounding all of us, he turned the offer down and took a job with Paracon, to travel and work in some of the most exotic places in the world. We all thought it was only a matter of time before he became the company’s president. We were wrong. He quit and got lost until he found himself. Eventually he returned to Canada, bought a hovel in Port Carling, and tried to scratch out a living by building cottages for the rich and famous. So at the end of the day, he gave up fame and fortune to live alone and poor in Muskoka. Go figure.” He raised his glass. “I propose a toast to Steve Monteith, my best friend and a great human being. If anyone here can figure him out, I take my hat off to you. You’re a lot smarter than me.”