Lilac Avenue (34 page)

Claire grabbed a chair and Maggie sat down on the edge of it. Her face was pale and she looked as if she might be about to be sick.

“Steady, now,” Claire said. “This is just stage fright, and I know exactly how to handle it. Pinch your left nostril shut and take a slow, deep breath through the right.”

“Are you insane?” Maggie said.

“Trust me,” Claire said. “This works every time.”

Maggie frowned but did as Claire asked her. By the third breath, color had returned to her face, and she looked at Claire with surprise.

“Where did you learn to do that?”

“From an expensive guru,” Claire said. “Sloan hired him while she performed on Broadway. She was a film actress who had no clue how to translate that talent to the stage. He put her through a whole ritual before each performance. If we had time
, I could show you some yoga poses.”

“Like hell you would,” Maggie said. “I’d rather run three miles than look silly for three seconds.”

Hannah and Melissa were pinching their nostrils, breathing in an exaggerated fashion, and giggling between breaths.

“What time is it?” Maggie asked.

Claire reached into her handbag for her phone, and then realized again that she had left it at home.

“Delia’s going to come get us,” Hannah said. “Don’t worry.”

Claire’s stomach was queasy and her nerves felt jittery.

“Are you okay?” Melissa asked her. “You look a little green around the gills, yourself.”

“Melissa, go get Claire some water,” Maggie said. “Unless they have the wine out; if they do, bring the whole bottle.”

Melissa left the room and Maggie did some more deep breathing.

“I brought you something,” Hannah said to Claire in a quiet voice.

She put something in Claire’s hand.

It was a pregnancy test stick in a foil wrapper.

“Hannah,” Claire said.

“Just do it,” Hannah said. “Then at least you’ll know.”

Claire went into a stall and did what she needed to do. Afterward she dried off the stick and wrapped it in toilet paper.

“How many minutes do we wait?” she asked Hannah when she returned to the outer room.

“Three,” Hannah said.

Melissa returned with a cup of water and Delia.

“Time to go, girls,” Delia said.

Claire hurriedly stuck the wrapped stick in her handbag.

Claire took another quick look in the mirror
as she washed her hands. The lighting was terrible, so her face was pale, and her eyes had shadows below them. She made an effort to brighten herself up by the sheer force of willpower.

“Ready?” she asked Maggie.

Maggie nodded, but Claire noticed her hands were trembling as she lifted the hem of her skirt.

Out in the hallway Erma Cook waited with the flowers.

“Oh, my word,” she said. “What a beautiful group of young ladies.”

Maggie’s bouquet was made of lily of the v
alley, white sweet pea, cream-colored heirloom roses, and lush ivory peonies. The stems were wrapped in ivory satin ribbon tied in a bow. The bridesmaids’ bouquets were made from pale-coral-colored sweet pea, lily of the valley, ivory heirloom roses, and fragrant peonies the exact coral color of the bridesmaid dresses.

“How did you get an exact match on such short notice?” Claire asked Erma.

“I took a picture to her,” Hannah said, “and she had them shipped overnight.”

“It wasn’t cheap,” Erma said. “But don’t they look pretty?”

“They’re gorgeous,” Claire said.

Claire was sincerely pleased; the flowers were more beautiful than any she had seen anywhere else in the wor
ld. She had underestimated Bonnie, Starlina, and Erma, and they had all put her low expectations to shame.

The bridal contingent of the wedding party made their way up the stairs to the narthex at the entrance to the sanctuary, where Maggie’s brother, Sean, was waiting. Claire thought he looked movie-star handsome in his black suit.

“You look amazing,” he said to Maggie, and kissed her cheek.

“How’s Dad?” she asked him.

“He’s up front, fussing with Mom,” Sean said. “But he’s fine.”

He offered his arm to Maggie and she took it.

“You may have to hold me up,” she said.

“I’ll be happy to,” he said.

“I’ll lock the door,” Hannah said, and Melissa pinched her.

“Ow,” Hannah said. “You must have learned that from Bonnie.”

“I been practicin’ on Patrick,” Melissa said.

Claire went to the arched opening and looked up the aisle. Scott and his groomsmen were seated in the first pew. Ed looked back, smiled at Claire and winked. She felt her face flush.

The church was full and the crowd was murmuring. In the background Sister Mary Margrethe was playing “What a Wonderful World” on the piano.

“Good job on the music,” Claire said to Hannah.

“Just wait,” Hannah said. “It gets even better.”

Claire felt a sense of foreboding.

Sister Mary Margrethe ended the song, and looked toward Claire, who nodded. Father Stephen motioned to Scott, who stood up and went to stand at the top of the aisle. Ed, Patrick, and Sam followed, and they all turned to look at Claire. Patrick stuck his tongue out at her, and Sam’s expression was, as usual, inscrutable. Claire ignored Patrick and Sam, hard as that was, and smiled at Ed and Scott. She clutched her bouquet and turned to Maggie.

“The hard part is over,” Claire said. “It’s all smooth sailing from here.”

Maggie looked as if she couldn’t hear, as if she were paralyzed with fear. Claire looked with concern at Sean.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ve got this.”

Sister Mary Margrethe began playing again, and Claire started walking. At first Claire didn’t recognize the music. She was halfway to the front of the church before she realized what it was, and then she almost laughed out loud. To the tune of Marvin Gaye’s “You’re All I Need to Get By,” Claire walked up the aisle through a packed church.

“Claire,” she heard Sammy say. “Aunt
ie Dee, there’s Claire.”

Claire looked to each side of the aisle. Smiling at her from the pews were people she’d known her whole life. People with whom she went to kindergarten now sat with their grandparents, parents, and children. Her mother and father were there in the second row with Sammy, her father Ian looking confused and irritated, her mother
, Delia, with tears in her eyes. Uncle Curtis and a tearful Aunt Bonnie stood on either side of Uncle Fitz’s wheelchair at the front row. Uncle Fitz’s face was pale with the effort it took him to be out among people, but he, too, wiped his eyes as he watched the procession.

Claire smiled at Ed as she took her place on the left side of the aisle at the front. He looked so pleased to see her. He waggled his eyebrows at her and she almost laughed again. Claire looked at Scott, whose eyes were fixed on the back of the church. He was almost smiling, but also looked as if he was holding his breath.

Melissa, looking shy, arrived at Claire’s side, and Claire could hear her let out a deep breath she must have been holding. Claire looked at Patrick, who was looking at Melissa in a soft and tender manner, a look Claire had never before seen on Patrick’s face. She scanned the church quickly but did not see Ava. She had been invited, but Claire was glad she’d stayed away. This pretend christening didn’t need any bad fairies.

Hannah arrived next, taking exaggerated bridesmaid steps, her tiara having slipped a little off to the side.

Sammy called out, “Mama!” but Delia kept a firm grip on him.

Claire looked at Sam, who was looking at his wife with deep affection, his lips clamped together to hold back his laughter.

‘That’s good,’ Claire thought. ‘That’s what I want to see.’

Maggie and Sean were now framed in the stone archway of the nave. Sister Mary Margrethe paused. Everyone seated in the pews stood up and turned toward Maggie. As Sister Mary Margrethe began playing, “Let’s Stay Together,” Maggie and Sean started up the aisle. Scott’s face broke into a huge grin, and Maggie smiled widely in return. As far as Claire could tell, they didn’t seem to notice there was anyone else in the church; they only had eyes for each other.

When Maggie reached the front, after Sean went through the ritual of handing her over to Scott, only Claire and Ed were close enough to hear what was said between the bride and groom.

“You clean up nice,” Scott said.

“Shut up,” Maggie said, but she was smiling.

Scott’s hand
s trembled as he placed Grandma Rose’s ring on Maggie’s finger. He was relieved to feel her hands were trembling as well. He looked up into her face; she looked scared.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he said.

“I know,” she said.

After she placed his
father’s ring on his finger, he grabbed her hand and held it for the rest of the ceremony. Later, in his memory, it was all a blur of standing, sitting, kneeling, praying, repeating words, singing from hymnals, lighting candles, and then, finally, being pronounced husband and wife.

The whole time, Scott kept his focus on the way Maggie’s hand felt in his. Through her fingers he thought he could feel her heart beat, even though it may have been his own. Her hand was dry and warm. Her grip was firm. Their hands fit together
perfectly. It felt good.

He thought about when he first met Maggie, in the Sunday school of this very church. Back then she was known to him only as one of the Fitzpatrick children, of which there were many. Hannah’s four brothers and Maggie’s three brothers had absorbed Scott into their pack, which was long the bane of Sister Mary Margrethe’s existence.

Back then Maggie was just the freckle-face sister with the red curls. She, Hannah, and Claire had been inseparable. They may have fought amongst themselves, but no one dared say one word against one of them to the others. He once saw Maggie square off against a boy who was twice her size, when he dared to pick on little Hannah. By the time Maggie was done with him, the boy was bleeding, had snot running down his chin, and was crying for his mother.

In grade school they were aware of each other, but in the way boys and girls sometimes do at that age, they each thought the other was cootie-covered and repellent. It wasn’t until sixth grade, when Scott realized Maggie was not so much cootie-covered as she was adorable, that he developed a deep, unrequited crush on her. The beautiful Ava may have starred in a few of his boyhood fantasies, as she did in many others’, but Maggie wedged herself deep into Sco
tt’s heart, and there she stayed.

He remembered the day her father fell off a ladder and broke his back while painting the trim on their house. Scott was standing next to Maggie in the hallway of Rose Hill Elementary when the principal came to get her. Scott followed them to the principal’s office, where Maggie reached for Scott’s hand and held it as she cried. He had stayed there with her until her Aunt Delia came to fetch her.

When Scott’s father died, just a year later, after the funeral Maggie had sought him out, had told him she was sorry about his dad. It had meant more to him than anything anybody else said to him that day.

Over the years, Scott, along with Ed and Sam, had become honorary members of the Fitzpatrick’s extended family. It was Curtis Fitzpatrick who always included Scott when he tossed a baseball with his sons in their backyard, and invited him to come along when he took his boys camping, hunting, or fishing. It was Chief Ian Fitzpatrick who mentored him when he decided to go into law enforcement, hired him to work in the Rose Hill Police Department, and then recommended him for the position of chief when he retired.

Scott had not been the only informally adopted son. After Ed’s mother ran off, the Fitzpatrick mothers had stepped in, absorbing Ed and his dad into their holidays and Sunday dinners. After Sam came back from the service, disabled and depressed, it was Maggie’s father Fitz and her Grandpa Tim who got him to talk about his war experiences, through sharing their own, thus helping him begin to recover.

For many years Maggie treated Scott like a brother, which was to say, with irritated toleration. As they grew up, and went through high school, Scott had made clear his devotion, with every valentine and dance invitation. Maggie, in return, had made her position very clear with every rejection, sometimes in very blunt terms. Still, Scott stayed loyal.

After graduating from high school, while Maggie worked in her family’s bakery, Scott attended community college, and dated other girls. Over the years they cheerfully passed each other on the street, and sometimes stopped to catch up, but Scott’s devotion had receded into resigned acceptance. He eventually dated and then married a nice girl he had met at school. Maggie met Gabe and, much to her mother’s chagrin, moved with him into a house they built up Possum Holler.

The two couples socialized, and Scott came to feel that Gabriel was his good friend, right up until the moment he found out the man was actually a drug-dealing ex-con. At that moment, his loyalty to Maggie easily won out over any friendship he may have thought he had with her boyfriend. Every action he took after that was to protect Maggie.