and To Hold
By Susan Verrochi
Copyright 2011 Sue Verrochi
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold
To Have and To Hold
“Déjà vu, huh, little sister?” Isabelle’s words stung only slightly. Diane had, after all, been anticipating them for weeks. She could make no response because Isabelle was at that moment applying liner and gloss to her lips. When she was finished, after carefully scrutinizing her work, she stepped back and the two sisters looked into the mirror, regarding one another. Diane’s blonde hair had been artfully arranged into a formal chignon, sprays of baby’s breath tucked in around the bun. Her strapless white bridal gown was at once simple and sophisticated.
“That dress is so much nicer than the first one!” Isabelle exclaimed. Diane took a deep breath and rose from her chair, moving to the full-length mirror. Her sister wore an A-line dress in deep orange taffeta which should not have worked with her fire-engine red hair and round figure, but somehow did. When they were small, her sister had been Belle, but now that she was thirty and a highly sought-after Broadway makeup artist, she was Isabelle. Diane wondered if she aspired to be one of those people known only by a single name: Beyonce, Shaq, Cher.
“Look, Belle, I know you think I made a mistake by not marrying Jeff,” Diane began. Isabelle colored slightly and held up her hands.
“Diane, I didn’t mean that, I was just pulling your chain!”
“No, Belle, that is what you meant. You thought I was crazy five years ago when I left him at the altar and you probably still think I’m crazy today because I’m about to marry Greg. I get it. It’s OK.”
“Oh Diane!” she sighed and sat down heavily on one of the brocade chairs in the dressing room. “It’s just that Jeff was so sweet and charming. And he’s an investment banker now for goodness sake. And Greg is, well…”
“Greg works in tech support at my office and still lives with his parents at age thirty-five. Believe me, I get it. Maybe I should have married Jeff. I don’t know. But the fact is that something didn’t feel right on that day five years ago when I sat here in a different wedding dress at a different church. All I know is I couldn’t go through with it. So, I’ve moved on with my life, and Jeff did too! I can’t spend time wondering what might have been. Greg makes me so happy. He’s sweet and kind and he loves me. He loves me so much, Belle!” Diane felt like she was pleading with her sister as she’d done when they were young and she wanted to wear Isabelle’s clothes or be included in an outing with her friends.
Diane moved to the window and looked out over the spacious yard. White chairs were arranged in rows and columns before a flowered archway and altar. The day was sunny and warm, picture perfect. Guests were arranged in groups, chatting before the big moment arrived. She discerned her mother in the crowd, flitting from one group to another wearing the same pale pink gown she’d worn to the first wedding, determined to finally get some use out of it.
Isabelle moved to her side and put an arm around her waist.
“I’m sorry honey,” she said. “I really am. Maybe I’m just jealous because you found love twice and I never have. Greg will grow on me, I’m sure he will. I just need to get to know him better. As long as you know he’s the one for you, that’s good enough for me.” The sisters hugged and finished off the glasses of champagne that had long ago gone flat.
“I’ll go tell Pastor Carlsson to get this show on the road. And I’ll remind Mom once again not to address Greg as Jeff. She doesn’t mean anything by it, she’s just getting old. Why don’t you check your stockings and make sure nothing’s twisted around? It’s going to be a long afternoon. Back in a jiffy!” Isabelle was at the door when she turned and smiled at her little sister. “Oh and by the way, you look fantastic!” Then she was gone.
Diane bent down and removed one of her shoes. How had Isabelle known that one leg of her stocking was on backwards and had been driving her crazy since she’d first gotten dressed?
“I have to agree with Isabelle, you look beautiful.” Diane looked up and saw Greg standing in the doorway. He was wearing the dark grey suit they had chosen together. Noticing how ill at ease he looked, Diane wondered if he had ever worn a suit before. At work, he was always dressed in khakis and a polo shirt which, come to think of it, was all Diane had ever seen him wear. Though he’d had the suit tailored, somehow it looked wrong; the jacket seemed too long and the trousers clung awkwardly about his thighs.
No matter, she thought. If not exactly handsome, he looks sweet. “Sweet”, that word again. Something meant to refer to a chocolate dessert or a puppy. Diane smiled at the thought and said aloud, “Gregory Peterson!” Don’t you know you are not supposed to see the bride before the wedding? Very taboo!” she scolded.
“Then I’ll keep my eyes closed!” he promised as he put his arms around her and kissed her deeply. Lipstick would need to be reapplied, Diane thought. His breath smelled vaguely of onion. Good Lord. Finally, Greg removed his lips from hers and stepped back. His grey eyes were no longer closed, but instead bore into her own.
“Diane, I have to tell you something-”
“Greg, I have to tell you something-”
They had spoken at the same time and now they both laughed.
“You first,” said Greg.
“Alright,” Diane said, taking a deep breath. She plunged ahead in a torrent of words. “I was almost married once before. Five years ago. I was about to get married and I called it off at the last minute because I decided he wasn’t the right guy for me. I never told you before because I didn’t want you to think I was… I don’t know… flighty or something. But I needed to tell you. I just wanted you to know.”
Greg loved her. Surely he would understand, accept the omission and not make a big deal out of it. He put his arms around her once again and held her close. She longed to hand him a peppermint from the bowl on the table, but restrained herself.
“Diane, I already knew about Jeff,” he began. “That’s part of what I wanted to tell you.”
“How did you know? Did my mother tell you? Did Isabelle?” Her mother and Isabelle had scarcely met Greg. She’d only met him herself four months ago. She smiled at the memory of that first meeting, when he had chased away a couple of teenagers intent on stealing her purse.
“I knew you long before you knew me,” he said, grinning in that crooked way he had, his eyes twinkling.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“I mean, that I knew all about you. I found out everything I could about you before we met, because I wanted to make sure that I could be the right guy for you.”
“I don’t understand,” she said.
“Well, you know I’ve been working at AltaBev for three years, before you started there. I noticed you right away when you started because you were so… so perfect. I fell in love with you the second I saw you.”
“And you were so nervous you waited a year to talk to me!” Diane knew this part already; it was one of the things he whispered to her across the pillow late at night. “But how could you know about Jeff? I never told you that.”
“I kind of, well, researched you. It’s not hard to do nowadays, what with the Internet and Facebook. And being in tech support, I have access to email and all that.”
A warning bell began to toll faintly somewhere in Diane’s brain. She was speechless for a moment, and then said, “You read my emails?”
“Well, not all of them. Not the ones to do with work,” he assured her. “Just the ones that might help me get to know you better. That’s all. So we could be together.”
Diane removed her hands from him and stared at the simple diamond engagement ring on her finger.
?
??If there were things you wanted to know about me, why didn’t you ask me?”
“Oh baby, I didn’t know how to ask you! You were so beautiful and amazing and I couldn’t just strike up a conversation with you. I wanted to be perfect for you. I wanted you to fall in love with me the way I was already in love with you. So I just did a little research, that’s all. It’s nothing to worry about.”
A slow tingle worked its way up Diane’s spine. God, please no. Softly, she said to her fiance, “And when I first met you, that night after Happy Hour…”
“That took a lot of planning. I had to make sure those kids would be out on the street at just the right time. I actually texted them from the bar and told them when to be ready. Did you know I was in the bar? Probably not, because it was so crowded in there. Anyway, when I first set it up I told them they would have to be ready in the alley before you walked out. And of course I said they must not hurt you in any way! And then I was so worried you might not walk out by yourself. But I knew it was a Thursday and you always go to visit your Grandma in the nursing home on Thursdays so I figured you’d walk out by yourself.” He babbled on, looking quite pleased with himself.
Diane turned and looked out of the window again. The guests had begun to take their seats. The window was open a crack and she could hear that the string quartet were tuning their instruments, preparing to play the prologue.
“Are you telling me that you paid those teenagers to mug me so you could rescue me and I would fall in love with you?” she asked him quietly.
“That’s it!” he exclaimed. “That’s it exactly. I wanted to rescue you, to be your savior. You seemed to need saving. So I thought that would be the best way to go about meeting you. And it worked. And now here we are!” Greg was so happy. Tears shimmered in his eyes.
Diane was silent. She twisted the small diamond ring on her third finger. One of her shoes still lay on the floor beside her chair.
She could hear someone, Isabelle, coming up the stairs. Outside, the guests waited. The band played. The flowers, so carefully arranged on the altar, drooped in the afternoon sun.
The End