An Island Christmas (16 page)

Lauren and Porter, Felicia and Archie, Pat and Jilly and George sat around the kitchen table eating breakfast and planning their day.

“Archie and I have a brief meeting with Father Sloan at eleven at St. Paul’s,” Felicia told everyone.

“Would you like me to go with you?” asked Jilly.

Felicia pretended surprise. “Oh, like there’s something you’ve forgotten to mention to him about the ceremony?” Her mother gave her a reproachful look. Felicia continued, “It’s going to be short and sweet. Basically it will satisfy the legal stipulations of marriage and I hope it will satisfy your wish that we get married in an Episcopal church.”

Jilly bridled. “You’re making it sound as if I’m forcing you to do something you don’t want to do.”

Felicia glanced at Archie and then at her sister. Now that she’d met Pat, she would bet that Archie’s mother would have come to a ceremony on the top of a mountain with an interfaith minister saying a few words. But Jilly was a traditionalist. She had been a magnificent mother and Felicia wanted to please her. Besides, Felicia and Archie were sort of omni-religious, they were Buddhist and interfaith with a touch of Episcopalian.

“I’m sorry, Mom, I don’t mean to rag on you. Archie and I wanted to have our ceremony in this church on this island with you and Dad and Pat and our family in attendance.
We’re really grateful for all you’ve done to make it a beautiful day. I hope we haven’t overwhelmed you.”

Jilly beamed. “Thank you, darling. I think I would feel a bit snowed under”—she laughed at her words—“except Pat has asked if she can ride along with me today to fetch the flowers and the groceries and the cake. Also, she’s going to make a Cajun seafood gumbo tonight.”

“I was planning to pick up the champagne—” George suddenly remembered. For the first time he looked down at his sprained ankle with disappointment.

“Don’t worry,” said Porter. “I’ll pick it up for you.”

“I’m going to iron our dresses for the wedding tomorrow,” said Lauren. “I’ll clean up the kitchen, too, while the children are quiet.”

Porter leaned forward across the table and whispered to his wife, “Remember, we still have to put together the S-A-N-T-A gifts.” To everyone at the table, he whispered, “They’re more complicated than we foresaw, especially the miniature kitchen.”

“We’ll do that this afternoon,” Lauren told him.

“Do you need a car to go to the church?” asked Jilly.

“Of course not,” Felicia told her mother. “It’s a nice winter day for a walk.” She pushed back her chair. “In fact, we should hurry along.”

This Christmas Eve day was colder than usual. Often in December, a few brave roses still bloomed in protected
spots on Nantucket, but today all trellises, flowerpots, and window boxes were filled with geometric snow sculptures, perky accompaniments to the evergreen wreaths on the doors. Felicia and Archie wore their warmest snow gear; still they were glad to step into the warmth of St. Paul’s church.

Father Sloan was waiting for them by the altar. A tall, distinguished-looking man with a head of silver hair and piercing blue eyes, he hailed them in his deep baritone voice.

“Good to see you, good to see you. Don’t you have perfect weather for a Christmas wedding?”

Felicia had known Father Sloan since his hair was blond. She admired him and considered him part of her life, and really, it was very cool to have him meet her big strong handsome fiancé.

“Yes, Father, we do. Father, this is Archie Galloway.”

Archie stepped forward to shake hands.

“Wonderful to meet you, wonderful to see you. Felicia, you’re looking marvelous. Now, I’m sorry to say this, but I’ve got a meeting in a few moments. Always another meeting, always another meeting. Let’s quickly go over the basics of the ceremony. I have your email about which passages from the Bible and the Book of Common Prayer you want to use. I think we should have a quick walk-through. No need for a full-scale rehearsal.”

Felicia returned to the entrance of the church and waited as Father Sloan and Archie took their places in
front of the altar. All at once as she stood by herself, she experienced a rush of excitement and even anxiety about what was to happen tomorrow. She knew she wanted to marry Archie, but she hadn’t imagined the ceremony. As she walked slowly down the aisle toward the men, she had a silly moment of feeling as if she were in a Miss America contest clad in only her bathing suit. When it came to leading a group of novices on a hike or instructing them in how to use a raft on a river, Felicia was perfectly at ease. But the thought of walking along this red carpet beneath the high wooden rafters with twenty people watching her was daunting. Thank heavens her father would walk her down the aisle. And thank heavens he would be on crutches, because if anyone laughed she could assume they were laughing at him.

“Well done, well done,” said Father Sloan. “I’m not going to read through the ceremony with you. You have all the passages marked on the email. Your mother has already talked with the musicians about where to put their portable piano. You wanted an informal, low-key wedding, so I think it’s going to work out just right. Any questions?” He looked at his watch and was halfway out the door as he spoke.

After the minister had rushed off, Archie whispered, “That went well, that went well.”

“Shh. Let’s sit down a moment before we return to the Arctic. Do we have everything under control?”

“I’m pretty sure your mother does. My question is: do
you still want to go through with this? Are you ready to be a married woman who will love, honor, and obey?”

“You know we got rid of that
obey
word.”

Archie reached out and took her hand. “Okay, I was being facetious. But are you sure this is what you want to do?”

A surge of anxiety slammed inside Felicia’s heart. “Of course I am, Archie. Aren’t you?”

“I love you, Felicia, and I want to be with you all my life. But being here in the center of our families makes me realize there’s more to marriage than discounts on tour tickets.”

Felicia waited, trying not to be terrified. “Go on.”

“I know there are all kinds of families.” Archie cleared his throat. “And most families involve children.”

Felicia almost moaned. Had her rambunctious nephew and niece put Archie off the idea of marriage? “Archie—”

“Hello? Merry Christmas! Happy holidays!” An apple-cheeked woman in a Santa Claus sweater appeared in the sanctuary with two large pitchers in her hands. “Don’t mind me. I only need to top up the flowers with water. Go right ahead with what you were doing.”

Felicia stood up. “We were just leaving. We’ve got a lot of shopping to do before tomorrow.”

“Oh, I know! There’s always something at the last minute, isn’t there?”

Felicia and Archie zipped up their parkas, pulled on their mittens, and went out into the frigid day. It was so
cold and windy they had to walk with their heads down to protect their faces. This was no way to continue their serious talk. They hurried down the street, around the corner, and into Murray’s Toggery.

“Merry Christmas!” The salespeople were all dressed in red or green, with Santa hats dangling bells to their shoulders.

“I brought my list,” Felicia said, thinking as she pulled her paper out of her pocket that she was more like her mother than she’d realized. “We have presents for everyone already. What else did you want to do?”

“I thought I’d better buy a down jacket for my mother.”

“Good idea. I’ll get her some gloves, a hat, and a scarf.”

“Merry Christmas!” Last-minute shoppers rushed in out of the cold, talking to themselves about what they’d forgotten to purchase for Grandmother or Uncle Ed or their unmarried daughter’s dog.

Will we be like that?
Felicia wondered as she wandered into a different part of the store from Archie.
Will we be buying our mothers sweatshirts that say: “My grandchild is a dog”?
In spite of the cheerful Christmas music playing in the air, her heart for some odd reason went leaden.

21
 

“I think we did exceptionally well this morning,” said Pat as Jilly pulled into the driveway. Sitting in the passenger seat, Pat was a comical sight in one of Jilly’s coats, several sizes too large for her. It made Pat’s head look too small.

Jilly’s mouth twitched as she held back a laugh. “I agree. As soon as we lug all our booty into the house, we deserve a nice cup of coffee and one of the pastries the bakery gave us.”

“How nice they were to give you those chocolate croissants for free,” Pat said.

“It’s one of the perks of living in a small town.” Arching an eyebrow, Jilly added, “But don’t forget, I did pay a fortune for the cake.”

“
I
should pay for something,” Pat murmured thoughtfully. “Aren’t the groom’s parents supposed to pay for the rehearsal dinner?”

“You’re cooking it tonight. That’s good enough for me. Okeydokey, here we are.” Jilly switched off the engine,
stepped out of the car, and opened the trunk. Leaning in, she lifted out a very large cardboard box. “Thank heavens Archie shoveled the driveway so thoroughly! The last thing I want to do is fall while carrying this masterpiece.”

“I’ll go ahead of you and open the door,” suggested Pat.

“Great idea. Let’s go through the side door right into the laundry room.”

Walking with extreme care, Jilly made it up the driveway and into the house. She set the cake in its box on top of the dryer. Then she returned to the car to help Pat bring in the flowers, more groceries, and the heavy turkey. They set everything on the small table where she folded the laundry and began to remove their heavy outdoor gear.

Pat checked her watch. “It’s already lunchtime.”

“I’ve got cold cuts and cheeses. Everyone can have what they want.”

“You’re totally organized for this holiday,” Pat said, impressed. “I wish—”

What she wished was interrupted by a scream from the family room. A moment later, Lawrence thundered into the kitchen with a red face.

“Rex ate my tuna fish! Mommy, Rex pulled my sandwich off the plate and ate the tuna fish.”

“Drat that cat!” Lauren said, right before she saw Jilly and Pat enter the kitchen. “He’s only an animal,” she added lamely, not wanting to upset her mother by insulting her cat. “It’s all right, Lawrence, I’ll make you a peanut
butter sandwich.” With a rather frantic look in her eyes, Lauren asked Jilly, “Mom, where do you keep your peanut butter?”

“Oh, dear, we don’t have any.” Jilly had never seen her perfect older daughter in such confusion except during the first few days after her first child’s birth. “I have a lot of cold cuts in the refrigerator for lunch today. I thought we could all make what we want. Does Lawrence like ham, roast beef, cheese, or corned beef?”

Lawrence burst into tears. “I want tuna fish!”

Archie, Felicia, Porter, and limping George came into the kitchen to observe the commotion.

“Rex ran upstairs like his tail is on fire,” George said.

“Lawrence, did you pull Rex’s tail?” asked Jilly.

“I had to, to get him off my sandwich,” wailed Lawrence.

“Mother, I can’t believe you’re siding with the cat over your grandson,” Lauren snapped indignantly, tears in her eyes.

“Darling, of course I’m not siding with Rex over Lawrence.”

Portia came into the room with a plate in her hands. “Here, Lawrence, you can have my sandwich.” Looking at the adults gathered in the room, she explained, “I like cheese sandwiches best. Lawrence likes tuna fish best.”

“You already took a bite out of it,” Lawrence observed sulkily.

“Want me to put it back?” Adorable little Portia made vomiting noises onto her plate.

The men laughed, the women gasped, and Lawrence giggled. “Gross.” He happily snatched the plate out of his sister’s hand and stomped off to the family room to watch more TV.

“I’ll bring you a cheese sandwich,” Lauren told her daughter.

“Thanks, Mommy,” said Portia, and skipped after her brother.

“The children are always crazy at Christmas,” Lauren apologized, taking bread from the wrapper.

“I remember,” Jilly said. “It’s almost too much for them to bear, waiting for Santa to come, wanting a certain present and not knowing whether Santa will bring it. Plus all the parties, the time off from school, not to mention the weather forcing them to stay indoors.”