The preacher took hold his makeshift pulpit. “Do all those here pledge as witnesses, commit to pray for Dana and Adrian, to encourage them in times of despair, to correct them in love when needed and to forgive them when they fail?”
“We do.” The voices rang out stronger than the numbers. Daddy’s and Jordan’s deep voices formed the foundation. Shemika took the high top note, with my aunt and cousins mixing in. How beautiful their voices sounded.
“I now pronounce you man, maidservant and maker. Married to each other and to an Almighty Husband who’ll return soon for a church without wrinkle—and has His own iron to get things straight. Delight in Him always. You may kiss the bride.” The old man smiled in satisfaction.
The reggae band struck an upbeat rendition of “Holy, Holy, Holy” as Adrian took my face in his hands and kissed me until my toes curled in my sandals. Austin and Tracey’s laughter and Josh and Trevor’s whistles melted into the background as I accepted my husband’s loving kiss. I smoothed his bald head, returning his kiss. The truth of the moment crashed against my mind. Adrian was my husband.
As we broke our lip-lock, a white bird settled on the top of the arbor. The dove I’d paid an extra fifty dollars to have released during the ceremony and forgotten about. My eyes again blurred with tears. The waters of my heart had finally receded. It was time to emerge from where I’d hidden for so long. It was time for peace. For love.
I released my husband’s hand and sank to the sand, arms outstretched to heaven. “Thank you. For everything.” When I gathered my hands into my lap, unable to rise, just as he had that day at Tracey’s wedding, Adrian gathered me into his arms, stopping only to pluck a rose from the arch. He slipped the stem into my hair then bent down for my bouquet, a circular braid of pink roses and baby’s breath—I didn’t want to injure anyone. He hurled it over his shoulder.
I struggled to look around his muscular arms. He turned in time for me to see Dahlia miss the catch and the ring of flowers hit Rochelle square in the forehead. I laughed through my tears.
Ryan ran behind us with his notary stamp and a pen. Adrian hurriedly signed his name. I scribbled mine just as quickly.
Adrian handed the paper back. “Is that it? Are we legal? I almost forgot that part.”
Already walking away, Ryan laughed. “Yes, that’s it. I’ll fax it now and file the original at the courthouse. I’ve got to get back, the next ceremony is starting.”
I poked my head up from the crook of Adrian’s arm. “The next ceremony?”
Ryan nodded. “Yeah. Dahlia’s going to do that commitment to Jesus thing since you didn’t. She wanted to, evidently, but didn’t want you to think she was trying to push in on your thing. The minister is down with it, so…” His voice faded into the wind.
Funny, when we planned all this, I had it backward. This was supposed to be Dahlia’s honeymoon and it turned out to be mine. It was going to be the memorial of my commitment to Christ and it ended up being Dahlia’s fresh start with God instead. When God says that His thoughts are not our thoughts, believe it. This is how it should be.
“Thanks, man!” Adrian shouted, then waved to Ryan as he rejoined the others. As much as Adrian loved my family, he didn’t even discuss the option of sticking around. In fact, he broke into a jog towards the vans we’d rode over in. He kissed me again before depositing me into the passenger’s seat of the first one we came to and bent over, feeling for the key under the mat.
I swallowed. “Now what?”
He looked up with an intensity that made me shiver. “Now, dear wife, I take you home. And this time, I’m coming in to stay.”
STEEPLE HILL BOOKS
ISBN: 978-1-4268-5426-2
MADE OF HONOR
Copyright © 2006 by Marilynn Griffith
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