The Wedding Machine (33 page)

Sis has thought about it. She knows Ray grew up in the Pringle home on South Battery, but they all kind of have the feeling that she actually worked there instead of residing there as a member of the family.

Of course after the beach house scene last September, she's not going to dare bring it up. But what she wants to say to Ray is, “Do you think that matters to us? 'Cause it doesn't.”

Now Ray marches down the purple carpet in the center aisle and checks the placement of the four trees of vibrant red poinsettias that all but cover the bandstand and the acrylic altar. “All I can say is, thank the good Lord this is a Christmas wedding. A whole lot of poinsettias and greenery can upgrade even the tackiest of places.”

“Hush, Ray,” Sis says. She looks around to make sure the Benningtons haven't entered the sanctuary.

“Oh come on.” Ray swats her hand at Sis. “It's the truth.” She walks over to one of the magnolia leaf wreaths they made last night at her house and readjusts its thick red velvet bow. “Let's go to the conference room to see how the decor for the rehearsal dinner is coming, gals.”

“No,” Kitty B. holds her hands up. “You know the rehearsal dinner is out of our hands, Ray. Let's just let it go.”

“But I hear they have M&M's that say ‘Katie Ray and Marshall' on them.” Ray chuckles. “Don't you think we should drop those in the sink and say it was an accident?”

“What's got into you, Ray?” Sis puts her hand on her hip. “Lack of taste is not a character flaw. Even you should know that.”

“You're right.” Ray picks up an extra velvet bow and ties floral wire around it. “I'm just so wound up about Priscilla and Donovan.” She attaches the bow to the center of Roscoe's podium. “Donovan was going to propose today during a cruise along the Annapolis harbor, and they'll fly into Charleston tomorrow morning just in time to make the wedding.”

“We're very excited for you,” Kitty B. says.

Sis nods and adds, “But we need to fry one fish at a time, and the fish of the day is Katie Rae.”

Ray checks her cell phone for messages and excuses herself for a moment. When she returns, she outlines the altar with a fresh garland she made out of pine needles and says to Kitty B., “Shawna invited me in to see the rehearsal dinner set-up when I went to the bathroom.”

Sis scoffs. “Ray! Have you not heard one word I've said this afternoon?”

Kitty B. walks over and says. “How bad?”

“It's worse than dyed green carnations.”

“Now how can that be?” Kitty B. whispers.

“Artificial.” Ray nods her chin, leans over a little closer and adds, “White artificial roses with dewdrops.”

The microphone must be on because her voice echoes throughout the sanctuary, and all they can hear is the disapproving tone of the words “dewdrops, dewdrops.”

“Shh,” Sis says. “Y'all are terrible.” She imagines that the sound system pipes into every room in the entire facility, including the conference room where poor Shawna Bennington is frantically setting up. Heck, for all Sis knows the videographer could be catching Ray on tape!

Ray just swats Sis away. She doesn't even seem to care. She's on such a high about Priscilla's engagement that she's not even thinking straight. Sis has
never
seen her unconcerned about how she appears, even to folks like the Benningtons.

“Get ahold of yourself, Ray,” Sis blurts out. “If Hilda were here she'd tell you to come down off of your high horse and focus on Katie Rae.”

“
My
high horse,” Ray says. She sticks a twig of popcorn vine in her hair and rolls her eyes. Then she busies herself readjusting the poinsettias at the altar and picking out any stray or unsightly leaf. “Now if Hilda had the nerve to say that to me, I'd say, ‘Isn't that the pot calling the kettle black?'”

“Oh, all right,” Kitty B. says, walking up the stairs and patting Ray on the shoulder. “If you're so upset about it, then why don't you just go in the conference room and offer to do the flowers.” Kitty B. turns Ray around and points her toward the door.

“You two are awfully feisty today,” she says to them. “What's gotten into you?”

Just then Marshall and Roscoe Bennington walk in.

“Look at the well-oiled Jasper machine in motion, Daddy,” Marshall says.

“You were right about them,” Roscoe says, looking up at his tall, thin son.

Then he looks at the gals and says, “This place has never looked better, ladies, and I mean that. Y'all are something else!”

Sis nudges Ray forward as if to say, “Here's your chance, high horse.”

Thank heavens the stalwart composure that Ray's perfected over the years kicks into gear as if by default, and she straightens up and smiles. “Why, thank you, Pastor Bennington. I'm so glad y'all are pleased with it.”

Then Sis watches Ray point to where the video camera sits on a tripod as she says, “Do you think I could put some greenery on top of the, uh, camera?”

After the gals deck the halls, they race home to change and get right back for the rehearsal. Sis directs the music, and she's hired dear old Mr. Corley from the Charleston Symphony to play the trumpet, and of course LeMar is the soloist. He commissioned a composer at the College of Charleston to set an Archibald Rutledge poem to music. It's titled “Love's Meeting,” and Sis can't wait for everyone to hear it. She rented an electric organ from the Charleston Music House, and it doesn't sound half bad. The gals are all counting on the music and the flowers to be the two focal points of the ceremony.

LeMar sounds glorious singing the sweet love poem. He's got a little glint in his eye, and Sis thinks he looks healthy and strong for the first time in years. He's on top of the world as he puffs up his chest and brings the words of the bygone South Carolina poet laureate to life. Then Mr. Corley bursts into his solo for the wedding march, and before the bride is halfway down the aisle, Sis hears a thud behind her.

She turns to find Mr. Corley on the floor next to the organ. He's tugging at the top of his left arm with his right hand.

The wedding party looks back to see what all of the commotion is about, and Sis screams, “Help! The trumpeter's collapsed!”

Roscoe and Marshall run up the aisle and over to Mr. Corley. Marshall starts administering CPR as Roscoe prays and speaks in some kind of foreign language. Sis calls 9-1-1 on her cell phone.

The whole room holds its breath as they hear the sirens coming toward the building. Sis recalls Mr. Corley mentioning that he was going to have a stent put in the week after the wedding. This was the last event he could commit to before the procedure.

The paramedics race in and pick Mr. Corley up and carry him out on a stretcher as Katie Rae paces back and forth and rings her hands and says, “Oh my. I hope he's okay. This is terrible.”

Sis watches Kitty B. walk over to comfort her daughter. “I think he'll be okay,” she says.

“Me too,” says Marshall as he runs back over to Katie Rae and pulls her toward him.

“He's conscious,” Marshall says to them both. “He's in good hands now.”

The rehearsal and the dinner are solemn affairs. Roscoe leads the wedding party in a group prayer for Mr. Corley, and then there is nothing left to do but walk the wedding party through the ceremony. The crowd shuffles toward the conference hall for the rehearsal dinner, and no one seems to bat an eye at the imitation flowers or the personalized M&M's.

Sis feels Ray's firm arm on her elbow as she walks toward the conference room. “What are we going to do about the music?” Ray says. Kitty B. grabs her other elbow and says, “I don't know.”

Now Giuseppe is on their heels. He taps Sis's shoulder and says, “My Uncle Salvatore is teaching a master class at the Brooklyn School of Music right now. He's been looking for an excuse to get back down here. How about if I call him? He might be able to catch the nine p.m. flight out of La Guardia.”

Ray whispers to Sis, “That's not a bad idea.”

“Would you?” Kitty B. turns to Giuseppe to say. Then she adds in a hushed tone, “I think my husband will out-and-out flip if we don't have a trumpet. He thought the music would really make the ceremony.”

“Fine by me,” Sis says.

Ten minutes later, Giuseppe returns and says, “Salvatore will be here by midmorning. He says he can rehearse with you tomorrow afternoon, Sis.”

“Great,” Sis says. “Tell him to meet me at All Saints at eight a.m.” By the end of the crab cake appetizer Sis gets word that Mr. Corley is stable. He's going to spend the night in the hospital and get his stent put in tomorrow.

“Meanwhile,” Roscoe says, “a trumpeter is en route from New York to fill his place, and it is time to honor the engaged couple.”

Then Roscoe and Shawna give a slide show with sentimental music of Marshall growing up, and there is not a dry eye in the house. There are photos of him in church and with his wide array of pets including a ferret, a cottonmouth snake, and an iguana. When he was in high school, he volunteered at the animal shelter, and there is a photo of him rescuing three cats and four dogs that were stranded during Hurricane Hugo. The shots end with a few of him and Katie Rae at the Serpentarium feeding the alligators and conducting a show with the snakes. Sis swears she's never been so smitten by reptiles in her life.

Then Cricket gets up to give the cutest toast. They are not drinking champagne, just iced tea and a little sparkling grape juice with the dessert. These nondenominational folk have more rules than Sis would ever have guessed. Anyway, Cricket recites a poem about her sister, the animal lover, and how she always knew God had someone in store for her.

Sis wishes that Hilda were here to see it all. Of course, Trudi and Angus are sitting in the far corner conversing with Mayor Whaley and his wife, and that probably would have ruined her for another year. How in the world are they going to get her over this heartbreak?

Ray and Cousin Willy leave before the dessert. Sis knows they want to get home early to see if Priscilla calls. As for Kitty B., well she seems different somehow. In a good way. Stronger, and Sis wonders what's changed. Maybe it's the wedding or the hormones leveling off. Maybe it's the fact that she signed up for those dog training classes in Charleston, and LeMar gave her his blessing to take them. She took her poodle, Rhetta, two times last week.

“I had a ball,” she told Sis when they were making wreaths a few days ago. “I just ran Rhetta round and round that room on a leash, and the instructor said, ‘You're in fine form for a pair of beginners.'”

TWENTY-TWO

Ray

Now it's two hours before Katie Rae's wedding, and Ray's setting up the snacks for the groomsmen and bridesmaids in their separate rooms. Kitty B. made her famous California tarts, and Ray made some pimento cheese as well as ham, pepper, and onion finger sandwiches for them to munch on. And they brought ginger ale for those who might come down with a queasy stomach.

“Have you heard from Priscilla?” Sis calls on her way toward the organ.

“Not yet,” Ray says. “I'm expecting her to show up any time now.”

Ray can't believe she hasn't heard from her daughter. She's called her cell phone eight times with no response. Priscilla and Donovan were supposed to be on the flight from Baltimore this morning, and when Cousin Willy and Justin went to Charleston to pick them up, they were nowhere to be found. Ray is sure there must be some odd little glitch. Perhaps they overslept or they missed their flight, but you'd think she'd have the decency to call and let them know.

The guests are filing in and to Ray's surprise everyone seems nice and well-dressed. She knows there are over two hundred of Roscoe's parishioners who are invited to the wedding, and she half expected them to show up in shackets and stiff baseball caps, but these people are dressed quite well in their suits and ties and Christmas dresses.

Shawna Bennington comes running out of the ladies' room in her sparkly red sweater dress to embrace Ray. She's got these red feathers along the neckline that tickle Ray's chin. “I can't believe what you all have done to the cathedral!”

Ray gives a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you,” she says. “It just goes to show that flowers and greenery mean everything to a space.”

“Mmm hmm,” Shawna nods and waves to a familiar parishioner. “And I hear y'all gussied up Kitty B.'s house too.”

“You're going to die when you see it,” Ray says as she pictures the way Kitty B.'s looked this afternoon as she oversaw the setup. “It's like a whole new place. And with the tent on the river and the Christmas lights around the live oaks, it is truly—”

“Excuse me, dear,” Shawna says. “I see my Aunt Alvina coming. She drove all the way from Arkansas.”

“Hurry up and get a bite to eat, girls,” Ray says to the bridesmaids after glancing at the clock. “We've got to get your dresses on in just a moment.” Ray loves to stay with the bridal party so she stations herself in the girls' dressing room and holds open her tackle box of wedding essentials.