Wild Swans (23 page)

Chapter Fifteen

After a brief but intense scuffle with her mother just before the organist began the introduction to the Wedding March, Althea took the executioner’s path toward the altar. A lump burned like an ember in the pit of her stomach, and her pulse thudded like a war drum inside her head. For a moment she thought she’d surely faint. Beside her strode Mr. Cathar, who agreed at the last minute to replace Mr. Lindt as the father of the bride. Althea yearned for Mr. Lindt. She had hoped he’d change his mind and arrive in time for her to make her announcement. He did not, and she, like Cally, was devastated.

**
Where are you?
** She whispered in her mind. **
Where did you go? I need you
.**

Silence. His comforting presence was gone.

**
Please come
,** she pleaded. **
You’ve got to be here. I tried to tell Mom this morning but she didn’t listen. I tried again when I was getting dressed. She just won’t hear me. I tried again a few minutes ago and nobody will listen. Please come. Please.
**

Again, there was no response.

**
I should have run away. I shouldn’t have listened to you. You abandoned me just like you abandoned my aunt. Just like my father abandoned me. Now what am I supposed to do? How do I get out of this
?**

Althea tried pulling away from Mr. Cathar’s arm. He flexed his arm, trapping hers in the crook of his elbow. He patted her hand and smiled down at her. Althea felt her face flush hot.
Oh how I despise, you, s
he thought.
You‘re going to drag me down there kicking and screaming ain’t you? Go ahead, do it, you miserable bastard. But when I get ready to say my piece, you might have to cover your ears.

He smiled at her again, patted her hand once more in a fake attempt to comfort her, and virtually dragged her the last few feet to the altar.

Father Daltree stood there, wearing his robes, holding his book, standing piously behind the altar. Hank stood off to the right, along with one pimply groomsman who was introduced to her as Hank’s cousin, Mike.

Althea hunched her shoulders and stared at the floor, her heart pounding so hard she was sure everyone could hear.

When the time comes, all I have to do is say no
.
It won’t be so hard,
she reassured herself
. It’ll be like pulling a thorn out of your foot. It’ll hurt for a minute but then it’ll be over. And once I have my say in front of everyone there’ll be nothing anyone can do. Mom will look like the fool she is, and she’s got it coming. In spades.

Mr. Cathar moved aside and Hank stood beside her. She gazed at him through her veil. Hank looked lost and somewhat scared, like a little boy who got separated from his parents at a theatre and wound up onstage in the middle of the second act. Mike stared up at the ceiling absently picking his zits. Althea quickly looked away. Adrenalin shot through her, frigid as ice water.

Once again, she mentally searched for the one man whom she was convinced would come and save her, even though he told her he could not risk coming. **
You could, at least, stayed in my mind
,** she thought. **
You could have comforted me from afar, but you didn’t. You’re a coward. You’re a coward and a swine. Mom had you pegged all along
.**

Hank shifted in place beside her, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, beads of sweat shining on his brow. He glanced down at her, his face the color of soured milk. He swayed slightly as if he’d faint. He offered her a wan smile. Althea scowled. He quickly shifted his gaze to the floor.

Father was mumbling something, but she couldn’t understand what he was saying. Her heart pounded in her ears; she held her bouquet in a death grip. She glanced over her shoulder and saw that her mother was looking at her with an undeniably sly expression.

She knows
. Althea realized. Outrage replaced fear.
Of course she knows what I’m up to And she’s about to interfere. God help her if she does.

Althea glanced at Hank, who wasn’t looking at her but was preoccupied with a piece of lint on his suit jacket. Mike was still picking his zits. Her mother was leaning forward, her expression hungry, her eyes gleaming.
She looks crazy
Althea thought,
but of course she is. This isn’t a wedding, it’s an insane asylum.

Althea felt faint and vaguely nauseous. Everything appeared as if she we were looking down the wrong end of a set of binoculars.

Althea could see Father Daltree’s lips moving, but she heard nothing. Hank turned and looked at her and said something but the intense rushing in her ears made it impossible to hear. She cocked her head like a curious child, looking him in the eyes (those haunted eyes!) seeing his lips move, but nothing coherent came out.

Now the priest was talking to her. Althea focused on Father Daltree, watching the old man’s lips moving and again unable to make out what he was saying. All she could think of was Mr. Lindt, the things he showed her the night before and the bag on the bed that she hadn’t looked into, but now wished intensely that she had.

“Althea,” Hank said, breaking through the strange silence that had possessed her.

“What?” she asked.

The congregation tittered.

She turned around and looked at them. Her family, such as it was, with Mrs. Bristow and Elly sitting next to her mother, occupied the front pew. And there was Hank’s family who took up a full two-thirds of the groom’s section. Everyone looked expectant. Some looked impatient. Mrs. Cathars lips pursed in stark disapproval. Her mother glared.

She turned back to the priest, who loomed above her, his eyebrows raised, expecting a response.

“What?” she asked again.

“I said, will you take this man to be your husband?”

Althea turned and looked at Hank. He blanched, his fingers twitching as he fidgeted with his coat. He looked down at the floor. Althea’s heart went out to him.
He shouldn’t have to go through with this
, she thought. Compassion replaced her ire.
Yes, it’s time everyone should know.

“What are you supposed to say, child?” Father Dupree asked.

“Today’s my birthday,” Althea replied.

The congregation laughed. For an instant Althea thought about the canned laughter she heard on game shows.

“Happy birthday,” Father Daltree said, bemused. “Now, will you take this man—”

“—No, Father.”

“Perhaps you didn’t understand,” Father Daltree said.

“I understand perfectly well, Father. It’s my birthday. I’m a grown woman and can decide what I want, and who I want.” She looked at Hank and said. “So my answer is no, I won’t marry you.”

Ruby groaned. Cally’s expression was unreadable. The rest of the audience gasped.

“This is wrong, Father. And I can’t go through with this, and I won’t.” Althea turned to Hank. “I care about you Hank, you’re a sweet boy and I like you a lot. But I don’t love you, and I can’t be forced to marry you, despite what my mother thinks.” She dropped her bouquet, the soft flowers landing on the carpet between them. “And I know you love the church more than you ever will me. I can’t stand between you and God.”

“Althea, honey, it’s just the jitters,” Ruby said. She stood, giggled, obviously on the brink of hysterics. “Give her a chance to catch her breath. Father, could you please start again?”

“No, Mom, now please butt out.”

“Father Daltree,” Ruby interrupted, “Althea’s just being silly. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Keep going please.”

“No,” Althea said, with surprising force in her voice. “I know exactly what I’m saying, Mother. I’m not a child, and I am capable of making my own decisions. I’ve been trying to tell you this for weeks now, right up until this minute, but you just won’t listen.”

“You need to calm down and catch your breath,
chere
,” Ruby said.

“I don’t need to calm down,” Althea replied. “What I need to do is tell the truth. The truth about everything right here in front of God and Hank.”

“Althea, come with me,” Ruby said, stepping up to the raised dais. “You’re hysterical
chere
. Let’s go sit in the garden and have a little chat with Father,” she said between clenched teeth.

Althea pulled her hand from her mother’s grip. She stepped back; the eerie sensation of numbness was gone now and all she felt was rage. Again, she yearned for Mr. Lindt, to have his steady gentle counsel inside her mind.

“I can’t marry you Hank,” she said. “I can’t do it because all of this is a lie. My mother’s not rich, and neither are your parents. You told me yourself your old man can’t even afford a wedding ring.”

Cathar uttered a loud cough, his face a blistering red. “But the ring is right here, darling,” he blustered. “Mike, you’ve got it, show her.” Althea ignored him.

She turned and looked at her mother. “Don’t even attempt to call me a liar, Ruby. Hank himself told me a few nights ago. Old man Cathar picked up the ring, but I’m supposed to give it back after the wedding so they can get a refund. Ain’t it a hoot, Mommy Dearest? They’re broker than we are. They actually think they’re going to be sponging off of us.”

“Althea—” Hank started.

“No, no, don’t interrupt me. You deserve the truth,” she said to the audience. “Every one of you deserves to hear the truth about me, about everything.”

“Althea, come with me now,” Ruby commanded. “You’re not making a lick of sense.”

“It’s perfect sense. And the ring is only the smallest of the lies. I’m the biggest one. I’ve tried to tell you all along but you won’t listen. Nobody has been listening. But now you will. I have to say it.” She choked. “I’m a lie. I’m a sham too. I don’t even deserve to stand in this church.”

The audience muttered. Ruby’s face went crimson as she grabbed for her daughter. Althea stepped back, ducking her mother’s angry hand. Althea’s temper surged. Then without warning all the angst she had kept pent up all summer blasted out. She was on a runaway train of emotion and there was no way she could get off.

“Where’s my father?” Althea screamed in her mother’s face. “Why isn’t he here to give me away? Why isn’t his name on my birth certificate? Why Ruby Marie?” Althea paused, choked and then added, “All these years you’ve been trying to get rid of me by marrying me off to anyone who comes along. You started when I was just a kid, and you never gave up, even when the state came and threatened to take me away. And now you think you’ve found the perfect patsy for me, but now I’m old enough to tell you to screw off. There won’t be any more husband picking for me, Ruby. I’ve had it. I’ve had it with your airs and your holier than thous when you’re just a whore who gave birth to a bastard child you couldn’t get rid of fast enough to suit you!”

“Althea,” Cally warned. “Let’s go somewhere quiet where we can talk about this.”

“No,” Althea screamed. “No, I want to know now. I want everyone to know why I’m a bastard. I want to hear it from you, Ruby. I want to hear the truth. All of it.”

Ruby collapsed to the floor. Althea turned her back, her face in her hands. She hucked up great gasps of air as she wept.

“Althea,” Cally whispered.

“I’m not good enough for you, Hank,” Althea said, backing away. “I’m not good for anyone. I’m a bastard, and my mother’s a whore. I don’t deserve to be with someone as good and as kind as you.”

The audience sat in stunned silence as Althea ran down the aisle, out into the silent vestibule, toward the huge oak double doors. She shoved one of them open and rushed out into the hot summer air. Just as she raced down the steps she ran headlong into Jake. He grabbed her by the shoulders, looked at her with a half smile on his face and said, “Can’t go through with it, huh?”

“Get away from me,” she shouted, yanking away.

“I’m here to do right by you,” Jake said, grasping for her hand. “Let’s get hitched. Now. Today. Let’s do this.”

“Shove off,” she shouted, trying to twist away from his grasp. “Let me go before I scream.”

She heard the door open behind her. Heard her aunt’s anxious call.

“Please,” she pleaded.

Jake let go, raising his hands in a self defensive gesture. “Where are you going?” he yelled as she bolted down the remaining stairs and out onto the street.

Althea didn’t respond. All she wanted was to get as far away from her mother, the church, and the Cathars as she could get. Her heart cried out for Mr. Lindt, and after running several blocks into a residential area, she heard his response.

**
Two blocks down and to the right. Hurry.
** Lindt’s voice appeared in her mind. Sobbing with a mixture of joy and terror, she stopped long enough to kick off her white pumps and run barefoot down the street. Within minutes she stood before a rundown brownstone boarding house with a raked front yard infested with kudzu and mimosa trees.

**
Go up the back way; there’s a flight of stairs there. Make sure nobody sees you.**

Althea found a rundown looking flight of stairs just behind the house. An apartment jutted from behind the building, the steps were worn but navigable. Grabbing the railing, with one hand and her skirt with the other, she rushed up the steps.

**
Careful,
** Lindt thought, **
you don’t want to get hurt
.**

“It’s too late for that,” she said aloud as he opened the door for her. He looked over her shoulder, and then pulled her inside. “I’m already hurting so bad I can’t stand it.”

“I see you created some chaos of your very own,” he noted, bemused.

“Why didn’t you come?” She sobbed as she literally fell into his arms. Lindt had to take a step back to catch her. “Why weren’t you at least in my mind? You could have comforted me, guided me—”

“You did just fine on your own.”

“No, no I didn’t. I made a mess out of everything.”

“No, no you did not,” he said, guiding her inside the small apartment and closing the door behind him. “You did very well considering the circumstances, although, I would have not shouted to the world that I was unpedigreed.”