Here We Come (Aggie's Inheritance) (209 page)

“Oh,
Aggie!”

“Mom!
Should
you
be
up
here?”

“Try
to
keep
me
out!”

Mother
and
daughter
clung
to
each
other,
both
trying
ineffectually
not
to
cry.
Desperate
to
salvage
Aggie’s
face,
Tina
thrust
tissues
into
their
hands.
“Please
try
to
keep
from
wiping
off
her
foundation!”

“You
should
have
used
waterproof
and
smudge
proof
mascara!”

Tina
snorted.
“I
did!
I’m
worried
about
the
rest
of
you!”
             

A
knock
at
the
door
signaled
the
beginning
of
the
rest
of
her
life.
“Aggie?
Are
you
ready?”
Ron
stepped
into
the
room.
“It’s
time…”

The
next
moments
passed
in
a
blur
that
her
memory
could
never
seem
to
separate
into
discernible
and
distinct
moments.
She
remembered
a
prayer—that
familiar
time
of
communion
with
her
father
and
her
Father.
The
gate
that
was
supposed
to
take
just
a
moment
to
attach
behind
them
refused
to
stay
in
place,
nearly
causing
her
to
fall
several
times.
Had
people
heard
their
giggles?

Music
drifted
to
them,
changing
from
one
song
to
the
next—what
songs
were
they?
Aggie
couldn’t
remember
the
names.
Illogically,
she
thanked
the
Lord
for
enough
room
on
the
stairs
for
her
father
to
walk
beside
her.
The
wide
stairs
that
seemed
such
a
waste
of
space
during
her
first
days
in
the
house
were
now
cherished
memories
in
just
the
flash
of
a
second.

She
refused
to
look
at
Luke’s
face
at
first—certain
that
she
would
weep.
Her
eyes
sought
her
mother,
Libby,
Zeke.
Lips—they
must
be
her
father’s—touched
her
cheek
. A trail of dampness slid down her face
.
Were
they
her
tears
or
his
?

Hands
covered
hers
and
Zeke
stepped
up
to
face
them
at
the
base
of
the
stairs
.
Aggie’s
eyes
lifted
and
met
Luke’s.
Love.
In
Luke’s
eyes,
she
saw
the
love
that
he’d
written
of
in
his
letter.

~*~*~*~

Anticipation.
That
was
the
only
purpose
to
processionals
of
bridesmaids
and
flower
girls—anticipation.
It
was
designed
to
ensure
that
a
groom
was
half-crazy
by
the
time
his
bride
appeared.
It
was
designed
to
befuddle
him
so
much
that
if
he
had
any
doubts,
he
forgot
them.
Luke
had
no
doubts,
but
the
anticipation
was
killing
him.

T
he
tips
of
her
shoes
preceded
a
simple
satin
hemline.
Of
that
much,
Luke
was
confident.
Any
other
design
elements
were
likely
beyond
his
description.
He
didn’t
care.
Her
waist
appeared
and
had
he
strained,
he
could
have
seen
her
face,
but
he
was
determined
to
wait
for
the
full
picture
now.
A
veil…
of
course
she’d
wear
a
veil.
It
was
enough
for
him
to
want
to
let
out
a
primal
yell,
jerk
it
from
her
head,
and
drag
her
from
the
house
declaring
she
was
his
by
right
of
conquest.