Part 10
~
I promise
you
From the
bottom of my heart
I will love
you ‘til death do us part
I promise
you
As a lover
and a friend
I will love you like I’ll never love again
With
everything I am
~
Three weeks
later
“… a small,
intimate wedding,” Grace was saying.
I nodded. “I agree,” I
said.
I had only been out of the hospital for about a week, but Grace
and I were both anxious to start planning our wedding. We wanted to get married as soon as we
could.
“Maybe it could be in the evening.
Like, a small, candlelit service.
It would be so intimate and romantic, don’t you think?”
I nodded again, relieved that Grace didn’t want the whole
fairy-tale wedding that Leighanne and I had had. Not that I hadn’t loved Leighanne’s dream
wedding… I had. That was just it – it
was Leighanne’s dream wedding.
And I didn’t want my second wedding with Grace to be anything like
it. I would feel like I was replacing
Leighanne, and that was a horrible feeling.
Something small, simple, and intimate with Grace would be much better.
“That sounds wonderful, honey,” I told Grace.
She smiled and took my hand.
“I’m glad you think so. I just
don’t like the idea of a traditional Saturday afternoon wedding with all the
fancy stuff. It would just bring back
too many memories, you know?”
I nodded, suddenly realizing that Grace knew exactly how I
felt. She too had been through a
wedding before this one. Well, at least
part of a wedding… before I had stopped it. And she didn’t want her second wedding to be
like her first either.
“I know,” I said. “A
small, candlelit wedding would be perfect.”
And as it turned out, it
was.
***
Six months later
It had been
a lot of work, but Grace and I had planned our wedding together in less than
six months. And now, it was all coming
together. And that day, October 10,
2003, was the day we would finally be married.
I’m not sure about Grace, but I was a nervous wreck. I had been through it all once before, but
that didn’t make it any less nerve-wracking the second time around. After all, marriage was a huge
commitment. But I knew I was
ready. I loved Grace, and she loved
me. And that was all that truly
mattered. Love could get us through
anything.
“Brian?”
I glanced up and saw my mother stick her head into the dressing
room in the church, where I sat, all dressed and ready.
“Come on in, Mom,” I said, glad to see her there.
She smiled and came in, closing the door behind her. When she got close to me, I saw tears
shining in her eyes.
I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t help but smile. “You’re crying already?” I teased.
She smiled tearfully, gently dabbing at her eyes with a lace
handkerchief. “Of course I am,” she
replied. “My baby’s getting married. And even though I’ve been through it before,
it’s no easier.”
I smiled and hugged her tightly.
“I love you, Mom.”
“I love you too, Babyduck,” she whispered.
“Mom, I’m twenty eight years old.
When are you gonna stop calling me that?” I asked in exaggerated
exasperation. But deep down, I didn’t
mind my mother’s pet name for me. And I
think she knew that.
“Brian, I don’t care how old you get; you’ll always be my
babyduck,” she replied, kissing my cheek.
Then she stepped back and started fussing with me, straightening my bow
tie and smoothing my hair down. When
she was finished, she took another step back and looked me over. “You look so handsome, Brian. Grace is a lucky girl.”
I blushed and rolled my eyes.
“Mom…”
“It’s true. And you’re
lucky to have her too. She’s a lovely
girl, and I know she’ll make a wonderful wife.
You two always made such a cute couple.”
I smiled. “Thanks, Mom.”
She returned my smile and glanced at the delicate silver watch on
her wrist. “Well, it’s getting to be
time, honey. I’d better go sit down
now. Good luck.”
“Okay,” I said, my nervousness suddenly rushing back. “See you, Mom.”
She left the dressing room, and I turned to look at myself in the
mirror. I stared at myself, tux, bow tie,
and all, and gulped. This was it.
***
Half an
hour, I stood at the altar with my brother and best man, Harry, and Kevin,
Nick, Howie, and AJ, my other groomsmen.
The organist played softly, as the bridesmaids walked down the aisle in
their long, fitted, dark purple gowns.
First came
Kristin, Kevin’s wife, whom Grace had become good friends with. Then came two of her friends from high
school, Erin and Tammy. As I saw Tammy,
I couldn’t help but smile; she was the girl I had asked to the dance in seventh
grade. And if it hadn’t been for her
hives, I would have never been able to go with Grace instead. She flashed me a little smile as she took
her place beside Erin at the other side of the alter. I smiled back.
And then
came Grace’s best friend, Kelly, the maid of honor. Kelly, with the cousin Ben, who had wanted
to date Grace the summer before our sophomore year. Kelly had a four-year-old daughter,
Mackenzie, who walked down the aisle next as flower girl, along with Harry’s
daughter Samantha, my two-year-old niece.
The two little girls each held a little basket of purple rose
petals. Mackenzie walked along,
scattering her flower petals along in small handfuls, just as she had been told
to do. Little Samantha, on the other
hand, waited until she got to the end of the aisle and promptly dumped her
basket of petals on the floor right in front of the altar.
I would have
laughed, but at that moment, the music changed, and the double doors at the
back of the church opened. And there
stood my beautiful Grace.
When I had
married Leighanne, she had walked down the aisle on her father’s arm. Grace, however, walked alone. She hadn’t seen her alcoholic father since
the night she and her mother had left home, at the end of her junior year of
high school. According to my mother,
Frank Meyers had disappeared not long after that. No one had seen him since, including Grace
and her mother. Grace had no idea where
he was living and didn’t care. And that
was just fine with me. After all the
horrible things he had done, I was glad he was no longer in Grace’s life.
Grace walked
slowly down the aisle, her head high.
She looked gorgeous in her long, white dress. The dress had a train that dragged along the
aisle behind her, but other than that, it was not fancy. It had no lace or seed pearls, no poofy
skirt or sleeves, like Leighanne’s dress had had. It was elegant in a simple, classy way. She wore a simple veil to go with the dress,
but even beneath it, I could see that her big, brown eyes were shiny with happy
tears.
A lump rose
in my throat, and I struggled not to let myself get choked up. It was hard though. It seemed my adolescent dream was finally
coming true. I was marrying Grace
Meyers.
As my
beautiful wife-to-be neared the alter, I walked down the three steps that led
to it and met her in the aisle. I took
her hand and gave it a squeeze, then walked her slowly back up the aisle.
The minister
smiled reassuringly at us, cleared his throat, and began to speak. When he said, “If there is anyone who has a
reason why these two people should not be wed, speak now, or forever hold your
peace,” in an ironic way, I half-expected Doug Barker to come flying in to stop
the wedding, as I had done to him. But
nothing happened, and the ceremony went on without incident.
And then
came the vows.
“Brian
Thomas Littrell, do you take this woman to be your wife, to love, honor, and
cherish her, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, as long as you
both shall live?”
I swallowed
hard and answered solemnly, “I do.”
“And Grace
Dianne Meyers, do you take this man to be your husband, to love, honor, and
cherish him, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, as long as you
both shall live?”
“I do,” she
said.
The minister
nodded and went on, “Then by the power invested in me and the state of Georgia,
I pronounce you husband and wife.”
***
Lyrics taken from Backstreet Boys’ “I
Promise You (With Everything I Am)”
