Capture (7 page)

Have I completely forgiven Henry? I like to think so, but some of that anxiety lingers on, the worry that he might up and leave at any time still niggling at me at random times. But true to his word, he was here day by day, building a life with me.

“You ready?” Henry asked, standing beside our luggage at the front door.

I turned off my computer and nodded. I grabbed my leather jacket and purse and we loaded the bags in the Volvo.

The flight to California took seven hours. We had a connection in Phoenix, so it was evening by the time we arrived in Monterey. We thought my dad was the one who would pick us up; instead Henry’s mom Helen was waiting for us past the gate, an excited smile all over her face.

She hugged me first and gave me a kiss on the cheek then gave her son a proud little smile before pulling him down for a hug. Henry’s lips were set in a thin line the entire time but I saw something there in his eyes, a spark that looked a lot like optimism.

At my insistence, Helen parked the car in her driveway so that Henry and I could just walk over to my parents’ house. The moon was bright in the night sky, lighting the streets with soft bluish light. I hoped wildly that the next few days would be just as clear and mild.

“What are you thinking?” he asked as we walked up to the front door.

“That it doesn’t rain on Sunday.”

We stood by the front door, gazing at each other.

“I can’t believe it’s really happening,” Henry said.

“Not too late to back out,” I joked weakly.

He touched my cheek. “There’s no way I’m backing out. You’re stuck with me forever.” He rolled the luggage out of the way so he could stand closer. “I was just having a hard time believing that in two days, I’ll be your husband and you’ll be my wife. If anything, I’m scared that it won’t happen because I want it so badly.”

He was dipping his head to kiss me when the front door suddenly burst open and Will interrupted the moment.

“Hey Grandma, they’re here!” he called back over his shoulder. He grabbed my hand and tugged. “Come on, guys.”

Henry shook his head as he gathered the bags, a tiny smile playing along his lips. “That kid has interruption down to an art form,” he said. “Just like his dad.”

Julie slept in the guestroom at my parents’ house while Will had the distinct pleasure of sleeping in his dad’s childhood room. My mom had taken great care to put out Jason’s old toys and belongings and showed each one to a rapt Will. I don’t know if he gets it right now—that he is sleeping in the very same bed as his dad used to or that he’s playing with the same toys—but my hope is that one day, he will come to know his father in some small way through Jason’s old things. Maybe Will won’t grow up feeling like he never knew his dad at all.

The day before the wedding was insanely crazy. Everyone was out running errands, tying up loose ends. Julie, Mom and I were in a mad dash to finish the decorations, filling seashells with wax and a wick to use as candles on the table. Dad and Henry finished building the archway and draping gauzy white cloth over it. Henry’s parents were busy with work, as usual, but they both got off work early enough to help out with whatever they could.

The rehearsal dinner consisted of just the two families sharing some salad and lasagna at the Logans’ house. It was cozy and warm, full of laughter and nervous energy. Every now and then my eyes flitted across the room to find Henry watching me and we’d share a secret little smile.

Finally the big day arrived and the entire household was thrown into chaos. Mom rushed around trying to get everyone ready, very nearly freaking out until Julie calmed her and told her she’d help get the decorations.

“What about Will?” Mom asked, her hair only half styled.

“I’m all ready!” Will cried, standing there in his little tan suit complete with a blue tie.

The sight of him brought tears to my eyes, and since I’d already done my makeup, I took deep breaths to avoid them from falling. For the millionth time, I wished that my brother was here to join in the celebrations.

The cake was delivered to our house, three-tiered and entirely white with swirly detailing at the bottom of each tier. The topper was the iconic LOVE logo in blue, with the O taken out and the wonky rock glued in its place. It was perfect.

I had only one glimpse of it before it was taken, along with the rest of the decorations, to where both fathers were setting up on the beach.

My dress was a sleeveless mermaid-style gown with a beaded belt and three layers of organza ruffles past the knee, and my curly hair was swept off to the side with a crystal hairpin. When I was finished dressing, I stood in front of the mirror, completely taken aback by the person staring back. She was glowing.

Mom had tears in her eyes as she stood behind me. I always knew she would cry at my wedding but I was not at all prepared to see her breaking down so soon. “You’re beautiful, sweetheart,” she said, pushing a lock of my hair off my shoulder. She hugged me from behind and we looked at each other in the mirror, basking in the bittersweet moment.

Dad was back from the beach when I emerged from my room. He looked at me with shock on his face and maybe a little bit of sadness. “My little girl,” he said, gathering me into his arms for a crushing embrace. “So grown up.”

We drove to Carmel Beach and I waited in the car until it was time. Julie texted me a picture of the beach, knowing how much I wanted to see everything put together. Seeing that tiny picture made it all the more real. This was really happening.

Before I could freak out, Henry texted me and brought me back on point.
Where are you?

Waiting in the car. Where are you?

I’m here, Elsie. Where I will always be.

Then it was time to walk down those sandy steps to the beach where wooden folding chairs had been set up in two sections and the aisle delineated with gauze and light-colored flowers. At the end was the archway and underneath it stood the priest with the Bible in his hands.

“Ready, sweetie?” Dad whispered, holding his elbow.

I lifted the bouquet of paper roses higher and linked my arm around my father’s. “Are you?” I teased.

Even though he was smiling, his eyes were bright with unshed tears. “Never.”

The violinist began to play a slow, hopeful tune and we began the march. Julie and Beth walked ahead in their navy blue dresses but all too soon it was my turn. The tune changed and as I walked down the short aisle, I looked around at the people around me, trying to smile at each and every one of our family and friends. It felt like I was moving in fast forward because all too soon, we were at the end of the isle and I was face to face with Henry.

His blue eyes bore down on me, the expression on his face nearly unreadable, but somewhere in that chaos of emotions I saw the one I was searching for: certainty. I let out the breath I’d been holding for months, finally surfacing from the depths of insecurity.

My dad kissed my cheek before he handed me off to Henry with a handshake. Dad clapped Henry on the shoulder and said, “Take care of her, son.”

Henry performed a perfect salute and said, “Yes, sir.”

And then it was just us: Henry and me together under the clear blue sky. The waves behind us played a soothing symphony as the priest began the ceremony, welcoming everyone to our holy matrimony.

I couldn’t look away from Henry, from his handsome face and the khaki suit and blue tie that matched his eyes. His hair was brushed away from his face with locks of his hair waving in the ocean breeze.

“You look beautiful,” he mouthed at me.

I smiled up at him, too overwhelmed with emotions to move. I only clutched at his hand tighter, hoping to never wake from this dream.

When it came time for the rings, Henry crouched down next to his tiny best man. “You got the rings, buddy?”

Will nodded and reached into his pants pocket. He leaned in to Henry and said, “I wanted you to marry my mom.”

I fought to contain my laugh but Henry only shrugged. “I’m marrying your aunt, so that means I’ll be your real uncle.”

“I wanted you to be my dad.”

Henry recovered quickly. “Uncles are better than dads,” he said so that only Will and I could hear. “Dads have to enforce the rules. Uncles, on the other hand, can be cool and buy you lots of toys and spoil you like crazy.”

Will’s face lit up. “You’re right! That’s better!”

Henry stood up with the rings in his hands, allowing me to see the sad expression before it was replaced with a smile.

“Jason’s here,” I whispered to him as he took my left hand. “He’s here with us.”

He nodded just as the priest announced that we had written our own vows. Henry took a deep breath. “I, Henry Logan, take you Elsie to be my wife, my equal, my best friend. I promise to love and cherish you, to be there for you whenever you need me. I promise to respect you, to remain faithful, to keep you safe, but most of all, I promise to love you with everything I am even after I spend my last day on earth.

“Els, I haven’t always done the right thing, but I promise to you that I will strive to become the man you deserve. I loved you then, I love you now, and I will love you always.”

I wiped away a tear as I held his hand, the wedding band poised over his finger. It took me a minute to collect myself, to not burst into delirious tears, but I finally managed. “I, Elsie Sherman, take you Henry to be my husband,” I began softly. “I promise to love you unconditionally, to support you in your dreams, to honor and respect you for as long as we both shall live.”

The priest opened his mouth to continue when I gave him a little shake of the head.

I turned back to my groom. “Henry, I love you. Those three words have history. They come with a whole lifetime of laughter and tears. So when I say them, I hope you feel the weight of my words because they bear everything I hope and everything that I am.”

He kissed me in front of our friends and family, in front of the endless ocean, and anyone who might have been watching from above.

And we were married.

The reception was a simple affair. We set up two whitewashed wooden tables and placed the seashell candles and bouquets of flowers along their center. The place settings were a pretty mixture of mismatched plates and silverware with a tiny starfish attached to each white napkin.

When the sun set, the candles were lit and our little party glowed on into the night. Dad and I danced on the sand while Henry danced with his mother.

There were a few mishaps—wax spilled out of the seashells and onto the table, napkins flew off in the breeze and sand got into everything—but we didn’t care.

After dinner Henry and I shared our first dance as husband and wife under the stars. Hass played an acoustic version of
I Won’t Let You Go
by James Morrison on his guitar as Henry pulled me by the waist and gathered me close. I leaned my head against his chest, breathing in his cool scent, sure that any second now, I was going to fly apart from all of the joy and love inside me. Only Henry’s strong arms around me kept me in place, holding me steady.

“I’m here, Els,” he said against my ear as we swayed, holding my palm against his heart. “I’ll never let you go.”

~  the end  ~

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Thank you once again to my husband, Mark, for allowing me to live my dream.

To my beta readers: Beth, Lara, Alicia, Kerry, and Shannon. Thank you for giving me feedback, especially with Henry and his identity crisis.

Thank you to my editor at Clean Leaf Editing, who always gets the job done and ahead of schedule! (P.S. She doesn’t get to edit the acknowledgements so any errors here are all mine).

Thank you to my writer friends Mimi Strong, Cassia Leo, MJ Heiser, and EL Sarnoff for the support and friendship.

Always and forever, thank you to the loyal readers who have been with me throughout this entire process. I hope with all my heart that I gave you a worthy story.

Thank you for spreading the word about DISARM.

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