Come Rain or Come Shine (24 page)

‘What outdo does not mean is a competition in which one person wins the game and the other loses. To outdo one another means you both win. In Ephesians 5:28, we're told that he who loves his wife loves himself. In effect, a good marriage happens when the happiness of the other is essential to your own happiness. We might say that a good marriage is a contest of generosities.

‘How wonderful that it's possible to ensure our own happiness by seeking the happiness of another. Is it our job to make the beloved happy? It is not. The other person always has a choice. It is our job to generously outdo, no matter what, and discover that the prize in this contest of generosity is more love.

‘All of which moves two outdoers in a circle, like the rings
that will be exchanged today. Dooley cherishes Lace, Lace cherishes Dooley, and the circle is unbroken. It is definitely a practice of love that requires the participation of two. If only one is outdoing, that one will soon be done in.

‘So we love and that is good. We cherish and that is even better.

‘I would ask you to remember that you're not only husband and wife, you are also brother and sister in Christ and mother and father to Jack Tyler. Here are three opportunities to outdo without being done in, to refresh and fulfill yourselves as others outdo themselves for you.

‘I believe many of us simply
do
. And sometimes that seems a gracious plenty. But in
out
doing, if each is giving and receiving, there's always something circling back, helping to replenish our emotional and physical strength as we help replenish theirs.

‘I'll close with a very specific way to help you live the principle of outdoing. This is a key to opening hearts, a gentle pathway to cherishing your beloved. To that end, I have been given this further word.

‘Listen.

‘Listening is among the most generous ways to give. When a loved one talks to us—whether their words appear to be deep or shallow—listen. For in some way, they are baring their souls.

‘Listen, dear Lace. Listen, my son. And you will cherish and be cherished.

‘In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.'

‘Amen!'

There was a pause; the congregation consulted their programs. This was the official Marriage part, the big one.

Dooley caught his breath and recited after his dad. ‘In the name of God, I, Dooley, take you, Lace, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health . . .'

He felt the thud of his heart literally stopping its beat.

Choo-Choo was standing just beyond the entrance to the tent, looking in. Behind him, three heifers cropped grass. His heart seemed now to fill his throat. If he asked everyone to remain seated and the bull came plowing into their midst . . . if he asked them to leave the area quietly and the cattle grew alarmed . . . there were no rubrics for this.

‘Choo-Choo,' he whispered to Dooley and Lace.

They turned around. Lace moved at once to Jack Tyler and took his hand.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, I caution you to sit very still. Please do not turn around at this time or make any sudden movement.'

Harley turned around at once. ‘God A'mighty!'

Now everybody turned around. Gasps. A yelp here and there, followed by a terrified silence in which Jack Tyler began to cry.

The musicians rose from their chairs in slow motion, instruments in hand. ‘We've got your back,' Tommy said to Dooley.

Dooley spoke without taking his eyes off the bull. ‘Th' chill gate's too close to th' tent to try and run 'em in there. Open th' cattle gate, Dad.'

‘The keys,' he said, faint with alarm.

‘In th' truck. Drive it like you stole it.'

‘Look out for Cynthia,' he said.

He moved like a snowball melting, vanished behind the woodshed, jumped in the truck, heard the astonishing sound of music: ‘When the Saints Go Marching In
.
'

He didn't look back.

It took maybe sixty seconds to drive to the cattle gate, but it seemed an eternity.

Choo-Choo was plenty smart, but not that smart.

Somebody had left the gate open.

On his way back, he saw them coming and stopped the truck and turned off the ignition. Tommy and his band were walking backward, playing music. The cattle followed, curious and definitely interested.

Dooley kept to their rear; slow motion, everything in slow motion.

Lord, I want to be in that number when the saints . . .

They were headed toward the open gate.

‘Easy,' Dooley was saying. ‘Easy, now.'

The wedding party was scattered around the lawn, under the tent, out by the woodshed.

Doc Owen's voice, a bullhorn of its own: ‘Thirty-minute break, everybody, and back here to finish the job! Six o'clock sharp!'

Most headed to the house; Danny and his brother, Rudy, disappeared into the bushes.

As for the guy in white vestments, he had broken a cold sweat; he was trembling.

‘Jesus,' he said as his wife came running, looking relieved.

In the kitchen, Dooley was drinking water, Jack Tyler was drinking water, everybody was drinking water while the pup looked out from her crate with an accusing eye.

High fives with the band.

‘You boys ever tried to make it in Nashville?' Doc Owen asked the banjo player, Lonnie Grant.

‘Been there, done that, got th' T-shirt,' said Lonnie. ‘Not doin' that again.'

The kitchen hadn't expected this invasion. They were
trying to get dinner to the barn, for Pete's sake; Lily could hardly move from the stove to the back door. But everybody was happy now and Jack Tyler had got over his crying spell and that was good enough for her—she liked happy people.

‘So, Dad.'

Dooley took him aside, said something that couldn't be printed in a family newspaper. ‘It was me.'

‘What was you?'

‘I left the cattle gate open.'

What could he say? ‘It's okay. You're allowed one today.' He managed a small laugh. ‘But only one!'

Mink Hershell checked his watch. The tent was filling up again—great, but the break was longer than thirty minutes.

Seven days a week, Honey had supper on the table at five-thirty sharp except when they drove to Mitford to the Feel Good. He looked at his program. Lord knows, he didn't remember this much hoo-ha when he married Honey twenty—or was it nineteen?—years ago. He had picked her up at her mama's house and they had arrived together at the church in his daddy's hearse. He remembered that the preacher thought it was a limo.

Deviled eggs. He hoped they would have deviled eggs. And ham! What would a wedding be without deviled eggs and ham? As for diggin' up th' bourbon, yes, he would go with th' diggers, but he would not touch a drop, he would just watch.

Everybody was back in the tent now and there came Father Tim with his robe thing flyin', and the wedding party—all but the dogs—trailing behind and cracking up, and the musicians at the end. All assembled gave the musicians a hand. ‘Woohoo, Biscuits!' ‘Go, Biscuits!' Like that.

The newspaperwoman scooted into the chair next to him and Honey. Boy howdy, this deal would give her somethin' to write about.

He gathered with the wedding party at the homemade lectern as before. Yet nothing really seemed as before—they were live-wired, jets burning in some new and wondrous way.

With no warning whatsoever, just boom, there came the celebrant's tears.

‘Hey, Dad,' whispered Dooley. ‘You're cryin' at my wedding.'

‘As promised,' he said, realizing he had no handkerchief.

Lace handed over a small linen square that had belonged to Miss Sadie, and she and Dooley had a good laugh. He took it and wiped his eyes and there came his own laughter—more laughter than he'd had in a good while—and then everybody was laughing; it had gone viral.

Mink timed how long it took people to finish laughing. It was lasting a long dern time, maybe because they had a lot of stress to let out after lookin' a bull in the eye. Or maybe it was something like he'd read about—people laughing in church
because of the Holy Spirit gettin' loose. Oh,
Lord
, when would these people ring th' dinner bell and get on with it?

‘In the name of God, I, Dooley, take you, Lace, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, come rain or come shine. This is my solemn vow.'

‘In the name of God, I, Lace, take you, Dooley, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, come rain or come shine. This is my solemn vow.'

‘In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, I pronounce you husband and wife.'

Beth led Jack Tyler forward with the pillow. He was really tired of holding this stupid pillow and would do anything to quit. It was like a shade started coming down over his head, over his eyes, he could not wait to either lie down in the grass or eat a Snickers bar, which he'd seen come out of a grocery bag in the kitchen.