One Lavender Ribbon (41 page)

The ceremony began, Pops and Sara standing hand in hand, as the preacher spoke to them about love and commitment. Adrienne was lost in the fairy tale, wondering how weddings could be so similar and yet so different. Her eyes drifted to Will, the man she loved. Her mind strayed to the hospital.
Their
love was certainly unique. At the moment she thought Will would break her heart, he had instead cradled it, protected it. She remembered the poem she’d once shared with Sammie.

Where have all the poets gone?

Rhyme with passion left unsung,

Even now my heart it yearns,

Until my poet-prince returns.

Could Will Bryant be her poet-prince? Was it possible? Love was so much more than deep emotion; it was sacrifice, forgiveness. It was comfort. It was joy. She willed herself back to the ceremony as the preacher asked if there was anyone who saw any reason for these two not to be wed.

When she heard Will’s voice, her blood stopped moving.

He stepped forward. “Pastor Vernon, I do.”

Uncertainty darted around the room, bouncing off the candlelight.

Will swallowed, pulled a breath. “Until I say what I need to, I don’t think this wedding can continue.” He looked at Pops. But Adrienne noticed Sara, who turned to Will with a delighted look on her face.

Adrienne’s eyes burned from lack of blinking and being open too wide. A smile formed on Pops’s lips and he nodded, urging Will on. Then, Pops turned and winked at Sara knowingly.

“Say what you need to, Will,” she said.

Taking a deep breath, Will stepped past the couple and over to Adrienne, whose face was on fire. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he mumbled.

Pastor Vernon flashed a look that seemed to say,
“how did I lose control of my ceremony?”

“Adrienne,” Will took her hands in his. “Until recently, I didn’t really understand what love was. But now I know. I’m not perfect. But I have two men who have helped me be—and will continue to help me be—the best man, the best husband anyone ever had.”

She sucked in a breath. Here?
Now?
“Will, we should talk about this later,” she whispered, eyes shooting to the group of waiting guests. Beside Pops, Sara beamed. Didn’t she realize Will had just interrupted the wedding.
Her
wedding. Through clenched teeth Adrienne said, “Later, okay?”

“Everyone here is our family.” With a wave of his hand he gestured to the crowd. “They love us and most of them would never forgive me for letting this moment pass.”

Adrienne’s pleading eyes went back to Sara but found no help as Sara anxiously awaited how this would play out. Then she turned to Pops—no help either. Surely, the preacher would be the voice of reason. But when her eyes met his, he had closed his Bible and rocked back on his heels, grinning and waiting.

“Adrienne, this is one of the things I learned from you.”

Her brows went up, head jutting forward slightly.

“You’re a risk taker. It’s one of the things I love about you.”

She heard Sara say, “She certainly is.”

Adrienne felt faint.

Will rolled his eyes. “I mean, at first, it was one of the things that drove me crazy, but you’re willing to put your heart on the line for someone else. How could anyone not love that?”

“
We
love it.” Sara again.

Her mind spun. This wasn’t happening. Couldn’t be happening. Besides, her plans had already been set in motion. “Will, I’m leaving in three weeks.”

The smile that had animated his face disappeared.

She shook her head. Yes, she loved him. But her life was moving in a different direction. “I was accepted at the school in Tallahassee.”

“Fine.” He nodded, taking only a moment to decide. “I’ll go with you.”

Again her breath left her. She swallowed hard. “You can’t just pick up and move—your job, your house.”

“There are banks in Tallahassee. Adrienne, you deserve to make your dreams come true.
Every
dream. And if the culinary school in Tallahassee is what you want, then I want to help make sure you get it.” His thumb grazed her cheek. “But you also deserve a hero. You should have someone who understands your complexity and will let you act like a woman one day and act like a kid the next. I don’t think I can trust anyone with that job but myself.”

The lump in her throat wouldn’t go down. “You . . . you would do that? Lose everything just to go with me?”

“I wouldn’t be losing anything. I would be gaining everything.” Will shot a quick look over to Pops. “Once, a really wise man told me that life is best when you find someone to love and you pour your heart and soul into them. Let me do that for you, Adrienne. Please.”

She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. He was
ruining
everything.

Will leaned into her, his words soft, only for her to hear. “Marry me. If Tallahassee is where you want home to be, then so do I.”

Marry him.

The words rolled over and over in her head.
Marry him
, not so the world could revolve around him, but so his world could revolve around her. He was willing to do it. He was willing to sacrifice his whole world to make her dreams come true. The reality of this soaked into Adrienne. It was warm honey through her heart, slowly, completely and forever leaving its mark of sweetness. But sweetness had a way of turning bitter and . . . Quietly, she whispered, “That’s not what I want.”

All of the air left Will. His face became parchment, devoid of color. And she could see everything. Right there in his face and feel it in the breath he’d blown toward her. It was love and fear and pain.

Her head dropped, and she stifled a cry because she couldn’t bear to see such hurt. “I don’t want to go to Tallahassee. I don’t want to leave here. Leave my family.”

Will swayed toward her.

Adrienne gestured at the older couple. “I want to go on boat rides in the Gulf and eat vegetables out of Pops’s garden. I want to sit on the porch swing and visit with Sara.” Tears streamed down her face, landing on the silk dress she wore. “And I . . . I want to marry you.”

He grabbed her, hugged her, held her. Sara squealed and clapped her hands.

“I’m already home,” Adrienne whispered into his ear. She was only vaguely aware of the applause that rolled through the room.

Not wanting to let her go, Will reluctantly stepped back to his position as best man.

Pastor Vernon reopened his Bible. “Now, if no one
else
has any objections, I’d like to continue.” He gestured to Sara. “I believe you have something to share?”

Sara nodded, then unfolded the letter in her hands with trembling fingers.

Dear William,

For many years I wondered what my life would be like if the man I loved were beside me. Many days I stared down an empty road, hoping you would somehow appear. Many nights I cried myself to sleep. For all the wondering and dreaming I’ve done, it doesn’t compare to the joy in my heart. I promise to redeem the years. We may be old; our bodies may be tired and worn down. But I make you this promise: We will live, William. We’ll devour every opportunity given to us. And if I’m whisked away on the wings of angels before you are, I’ll leave you letters.

Tenderly, old hands found their way to her rosy cheeks, now wet with her own tears. Pops kissed her with all the passion of a man half his age.

After the vows, Pastor Vernon closed his Bible. “I now pronounce you man and wife.” With a half-grin, he gestured to Pops. “You may kiss the bride.”

“Now, turn and face the congregation while I present you,” Pastor Vernon said, gesturing toward the audience. “Ladies and gentlemen, please congratulate Mr. and Mrs. William Bryant.”

William and Sara made their way to the back, a shower of flower petals cascading over them as they passed each row.

Adrienne and Will came together in the front.

Pastor Vernon gestured toward Will. “I can run a fifty percent off special if you two would like to go ahead and tie the knot,” he joked.

“I’m sorry for the interruption earlier.” Will put an arm around Adrienne.

The preacher, who’d known the family since Will was old enough to get into fights on the church baseball field, smiled. “Never apologize for love. I think you gave your grandfather a terrific present by ruining his wedding.”

His joke was lost on Will as he stared into the deep, brown, sultry eyes he loved. “No thanks on the offer. Adrienne’s wedding is going to be for her alone. Whatever she wants, wherever she wants.”

And he pulled her into his arms, burying his head in the soft throat that was truly, finally his.

Much later that evening, Will and Adrienne sat on the beach, still in their wedding attire. The warm embrace of love surrounded them, shielding them from the coolness of the air that danced off the Gulf water. Her toes were dotted with sand, as were his. Their shoes had been discarded nearby. The sun played on the sea, causing it to look like diamonds spread on silk.

“What about Hawaii?” She tipped her head so that she could look at him.

“What about it?” he teased.

“For a wedding?”

“I’d love to go!” He threw her a sidelong glance. “Whose wedding is it anyway?”

“Ours.”

His heart jumped at those words. Ours. Adrienne would be his wife. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry, Miss Carter. But I’m afraid we can’t possibly get married.”

“And why is that?”

“Haven’t you heard? We aren’t even dating. It would be completely scandalous.”

“Yes,” she agreed, and left her chair to kneel in front of him. Her hands slid over his thighs, a sly grin on her face. “It would.” She nuzzled her head into the deep hollow of his throat. “Didn’t we agree that neither of us have enough scandal in our lives?” She forced out hot breath with each word—purposely—and the action had the desired effect.

His body shuddered. “Well,” he growled, catching a handful of her hair in his hand. “For the sake of scandal.”

Present day

W
ill pulled his daughter closer into the circle of his arms, drawing as much strength from her as she drew from him. A funeral wasn’t the place for a three-year-old, but he’d insisted. “Will Great-Grandma Sara wake up?” Her eyes flitted to the casket once again.

They’d tried to explain, but death in terms of toddler life experience was impossible. When her toys died, Daddy put new batteries in them and they were good as new. Adrienne took Will’s arm. “We should have left her with Sammie,” she whispered.

He shook his head, gave his wife a sad smile. “No. She’ll remember this—not all of it, but some. It’s important for her to experience and to remember.”

Adrienne slid her arm through his and squeezed. “How is Pops, really?”

Will glanced over her head to his grandfather, who stood between Will’s mom and dad. As if knowing his grandson sought assurance from him, Pops looked over and winked. But the light had left Pops’s eyes, and Will tried to resist the truth that he wouldn’t have him much longer. “He’s strong.”

Three-year-old SaraAnn squirmed in her daddy’s arms. “Can I go to Grandma Peggy?”

Peg heard and reached her arms out to take her grandchild.

Will’s hands were now empty, and he wasn’t sure what to do with them, so he pulled his wife closer and gently rubbed his fingers along her arm.

Pastor Vernon began to speak. “Seven years ago, I joined a man and woman in matrimony. They had the most endearing love story I’ve ever heard. Though they spent most of their time right here in Florida, during their seven years as man and wife, they visited three continents and countless countries. Sara Ambrosia Bryant was born July 11, 1928. Like Sarah of the Bible, she was gifted late in life with a family. Sara is survived by her husband, William Bryant; a son and daughter-in-law, Charles and Peg Bryant of Bonita Springs; grandson and wife, Will and Adrienne Bryant of Naples; and a great-grandchild, of the home. Sara loved fishing in the Gulf of Mexico. She and William would often take off on a fishing excursion early Saturday morning and not return until late that night. She caught a trophy sailfish last year, one her husband swears only bit on her line to torture him.”

The pastor talked on, but Will turned his attention to Pops, who’d stood stoic throughout the service. When the memorial ended and they stepped outside, Will noticed Pops fumbling with something in his pocket.

“What have you got there?”

Pops stared down at the boat key. “Thought I’d go out for a bit this evening.”

Concern drew Will’s brows together. A cold wind whistled up his pant leg, setting his flesh on alert. Will stared up at the winter sky. “It’s supposed to be cooler tonight, Pops. Why don’t you wait and I’ll go with you in the morning?”

Pops turned to face him fully, and something, some deep-seated reserve, caused the chill to pass through Will’s entire body. “Nope. Going myself this time.”

Will had fought the onset of tears and wasn’t sure why now they insisted on burning his nose and stinging his eyes. “Really, Pops. I’d like to go. I’ll go with you tonight. The grass will be slick when we get home.”