Gift of Exile Part 1, Chapter 2
Chapter 2
Turning at the library and heading down Park Street to the United Methodist Church, Ennis knew he would be just barely on time. He also knew that his putting off leaving until the last minute wasn’t unintentional. As parents of the bride, he and Alma could hardly avoid each other, and the reception at the Elks Club would put him through enough awkward moments, not to mention having to make conversation with so many strangers as The Father Of The Bride. Determined as he was to make Alma Jr. glad she’d asked him to give her away, he knew his own limitations.
The remodeled church was not much larger than it had been when he and Alma had said their ill-advised vows two decades ago, but had a foyer and a minister’s office often used as what the congregants called "the bride’s room." From the foyer, Ennis could hear the subdued chatter from the 100 or so people inside the cool sanctuary. The first person he saw was Monroe, looking slightly older but with the same boyish face, hurrying out of the pastor’s study nearby. "You’re here! Alma wanted me to let her know," was Monroe’s only greeting before he disappeared behind the door at the other end of the office. In only a few moments the door opened again and Monroe returned with Alma in tow. She had that look of combined elation and irritation common to brides’ mothers, and was more dressed up than Ennis had ever seen her, in a long dark green skirt and long print tunic. Monroe had sold the small grocery to a supermarket chain years ago and now managed it; and Alma’s life as a middle-class wife of a successful businessman seemed to agree with her.
With them were Junior’s best friend from high school, Cheryl, Curt’s sister Luanne and Jenny, in floating apple-green silk dresses. "Wish me luck, Daddy," Jenny said, giving him a quick kiss as the music grew a little louder. Straightening her hair one last time and planting a demure expression on her face, she started slowly down the aisle, the maid of honor, behind Luanne and Cheryl.
"Well, I’m glad you decided to show," Alma said shortly. "We’re ready to start." Monroe took her arm and the two started down the aisle to the front pew. Glancing at the front of the church, Ennis saw Curt, whom he’d met a few weeks before, already waiting. Curt was as tall as Ennis but bulky-looking, with usually unruly reddish-brown hair and a passion for NASCAR. She’ll be safe with him, Ennis had thought, although "does he love you?" was what was on his mind when Junior had told him about her upcoming wedding. "Daddy?" he heard and turned his head to see his older daughter standing beside him.
Alma Jr.’s wedding dress was simple and high-waisted, with modest scallops of tiny pearls and crystals on the narrow sleeves and wide hem. But it was her face underneath the gauzy shoulder-length veil, secured by a band of white roses, that startled him. The light passing through the veil cast tiny sparkles on her brown hair like fugitive stars and her dark eyes glowed behind the white mist of fabric. She was suddenly mysterious and removed from him, and he did not hear the first chords of the wedding march behind the door. Junior smiled behind the veil and pressed his arm gently. "Time to go in, Daddy."
He’d been to enough weddings to know that guests always stood up when the bride entered, but the guests suddenly rising and turning in unison to watch them startled him; and he could feel his heartbeat suddenly jump although he knew the guests were interested in Junior rather than him. Junior looked to the bride’s guests on the left, smiling at one familiar face after another; while Ennis managed through a conscious effort to keep head up and eyes directly ahead during the uncomfortably public walk. By the time they reached the front of the small church, he felt like he’d hiked over a razorback ridge in a high wind. The minister launched into a greeting to the guests "gathered together today" a prayer asking that the Alma and Curt be granted "everything they need, that they may increase in their knowledge of You throughout their life together" and a Scripture reading about love being patient and kind. Ennis was only half listening until he heard the words "Who gives this woman to be married to this man?"
‘This woman’? My children! He felt the age-old dismay of a parent realizing that a loved child was no longer part of his own orbit but moving off into one of her own. But he remembered his part of the brief rehearsal the night before and managed to say "I do" at least loud enough for the minister to hear. As he started to turn away toward the pew, Junior gave him a sudden unrehearsed hug, whispering "thank you, Daddy". Unexpectedly shaken, Ennis made the short journey to the front pew and sat down with relief. He and Alma glanced at each other and then quickly looked away, but not quickly enough. Whatever had passed between them over the years, or whatever had not that should have, Alma Jr. and Jenny were the crossroads where their lives were forever linked whether either of them wanted it or not.The small church organ played the opening phrase of a song as Jenny moved up a step or two to stand next to it, and began to sing an invitation:
"Grow old along with me,
The best is yet to be
When our time has come
We will be as one.
God bless our love,
God bless our love.
"Grow old along with me.
Two branches of one tree
Face the setting sun
When the day is done.
God bless our love."
Ennis would have found the words poignant, even painful to listen to, if the feeling of being watched didn’t suddenly overtake him. He told himself that no one was looking at him any longer, they were paying attention to Jenny’s singing; but the instinctive knowledge of eyes focused on him brushed that attempt at self-reassurance aside like an annoying gnat. He had not been aware of it as long as he was standing at the front of the church, where everyone was looking at least toward him if not at him, but now he could feel it: as if a band had been playing and every instrument was suddenly silent except for one playing a single note. Jenny’s song was finished and the minister returned to the ceremony with "let us pray."
Ennis had said no prayers for a very long time and he did not do so now; just inclining his head and looking downward with the unfocused, absent-minded stare common to those present but not participating while others prayed. His sensation of being watched only intensified, however, and he was convinced that if he lifted his head and looked around he would see other head lifted, another pair of eyes wide open and locked with his own. It took so much effort to keep from doing just that, he hardly noticed when the prayer ended. The minister asked Alma and Curt to join hands for reciting the marriage vows.
Jack and I should have said our vows to each other, he thought, momentarily forgetting whoever it was who apparently found him so interesting. That summer 21 years ago, with the crows and coyotes as witnesses…. After that second night together, with the firelight on his face, when he said ‘it’s alright’ and pulled me into his arms. Alma and Curt faced each other and the minister started reciting the standard words that everyone was already familiar with.
"I, Curt, take you, Alma…"
I, Ennis, take you Jack…
"to be my wedded wife…"
to be my beloved partner…
"to have and to hold from this day forward…."
to have and to hold, from the very beginning….
"for better, for worse…."
for better, for worse….
"for richer, for poorer…"
for richer, for poorer…
Ennis gasped and jumped as he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder; causing both Alma and Monroe to give him puzzled looks. Without thinking, he shifted his weight in the pew and looked around quickly; but Alma’s mother and sister, in the pew behind him, were looking at Alma and Curt. Even before the unseen hand slipped down his left arm and clasped his left hand he knew, against all logic and common sense, whose it was. He shifted his left arm slightly so that his forearm was lying flat against Jack’s invisible one.
"in sickness and in health…"
in sickness and in health…
"to love, to honor and to cherish…."
to love, to honor and to cherish….
"till death do us part."
till death, and beyond.
He could feel the unmistakable contours of Jack’s hand. Now, however, there were only the borders of the pressure that he felt, and he briefly longed to feel the details of this part of Jack’s now-vanished physical body: the smooth asymmetrical ovals of fingernails, then the comparative roughness of skin with the tiny rivulets that were knuckles and the bigger ones of bones and veins. He had always loved to look at hands. People said that the eyes were the ‘windows of the soul’ and maybe they were; but the hands were what did the soul’s work in the world that everyone knew. As Curt began to repeat the same vows to Alma, with the ceremonial prompting, he was almost not surprised to hear the echoing voice that seemed to hover in some twilight space between thought and physical hearing.
"I, Alma, take you Curt…."
I, Jack, take you Ennis…
There was no explanation, and no denying it. Ennis closed his eyes and gave himself over to the moment. He felt an unseen mouth nuzzling his hair for a few seconds, just above his left ear.
"You may kiss the bride," the minister said.