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Authors: Janice Thompson

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CHAPTER TWELVE

Because You Loved Me

 

My brother Bob doesn't want to be in government - he promised Dad he'd go straight.

John F. Kennedy

 

On the night of the wedding rehearsal everyone showed up. . .except the groom. Okay, so we knew in advance he wouldn’t be there, what with the big debate on CBS that same night. He was right where any Presidential candidate would be on such a night—with his opponents bickering over the finer points of how to save the country from ruin. Only, I had a feeling his absence wouldn’t exactly save his bride-to-be’s heart from pain.

At seven o’clock we started by getting the wedding party in place—the groomsmen would enter from the front and the bridesmaids from the back. But first I had to give instructions to the grandparents, parents, flower girl and ring bearer. It took a few minutes to situation everyone, but by seven fifteen we were ready to do our first run-through. Twila took it upon herself to help with the children while Bonnie Sue busied herself gabbing with the parents of the bride. Jolene worked with D.J. and Armando in the sound booth. Or maybe she just wanted to hang out with O’Conner, who seemed to be enjoying her antics.

At the very last minute, though, something occurred to me. “I usually have someone stand in for the bride,” I explained. “But in this case, maybe it’d make more sense to have someone stand in for the groom.”

Victoria’s father offered to do so, but she nixed that idea. “Feels too weird—marrying my own dad. Any other takers?”

“I’ll do it.” The best man raised his hand. “Beau’s my best friend. I don’t think he’d mind.”

I somehow managed to get the entire wedding party through the process of moving into place in front of the pastor, though my focus kept shifting back and forth from the bride-to-be to the Secret Service guys at the back. One of them—the guy with the mole—was leaning over the soundboard, querying D.J. about something.

Focus, Bella. Focus!

I shifted my attention back to Victoria and the bridal party. “Okay, pastor. . .now it’s your turn. Do your thing.”

He led them through the ceremony, all smiles. Just about the time he got to the “you may now kiss the bride” part, a voice rang out from the back of the chapel.

“I’ll take over now if you don’t mind. Don’t think I want my best friend kissing my girl.”

We all turned to discover the groom had arrived, looking a bit disheveled.

Victoria let out a squeal. “Beau-Beau! You made it!”

“I made it.”

At this point the whole room came alive. Victoria’s parents looked stunned. For that matter, so did Beau’s mother, who had been relatively silent. Bonnie Sue and Jolene did a happy dance and Twila stood at the front of the room, arms lifted in praise. “I knew it!” she hollered. “Praise the Lord! I knew a miracle was on its way. Thank You, Jesus. You’ve answered our prayers!”

He’d answered them, all right, but I still didn’t understand.

The happy bride rushed down the aisle toward her groom and gave him half a dozen kisses, then stopped suddenly. “Wait. . .what about the debate?”

“Debate? What debate?” He winked. “Who needs a little old debate, anyway? They’re highly overrated.”

“Are you saying you skipped it?”

He nodded. “Yep. I skipped it. Caught a flight back to Texas instead.” He glanced my way and shrugged. “Bella, do you mind if I say a little something before we carry on with the rehearsal?”

“Please,” I said. “Be my guest.”

He gestured for the others to take a seat and then stood at the front of the room. Even the pastor took a seat, now looking more like a congregant ready to hear a sermon.

And what a sermon it turned out to be. Beau started by apologizing to his bride for nearly ruining their wedding rehearsal. Then he apologized to everyone in attendance for letting his political ambitions get in the way of his personal life.

Out of the corner of my eye I watched as Twila listened to his every word, tears streaming from her eyes.

After making apologies, Beau gestured for Victoria to join him at the front of the room. “I think I’ve been trying to prove something to myself.” His words were directed at her, but he spoke loud enough for all to hear.

“What’s that, baby?” she asked.

“That I’m a winner.” He paused and his expression grew sad. “My whole life I felt like I was never good enough.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean some people. . .always saw me as a loser.”

His mother stood and faced him head-on. “You’re talking about your father, aren’t you?”

Beau nodded. “Yes. And even though he’s been gone over ten years, I’ve been trying to prove something to him. His admiration and respect was all I really craved. But it occurred to me today, no matter how hard I try, even if I win the ultimate prize and sit in the Oval Office, he won’t be there to witness it. And you know what? It’s not really his love I need, anyway.” He turned to face Victoria. “It’s yours.” Beau swept his happy bride into his arms. “Yours. . .and God’s. And I already know I have His.”

“I hope you know you have mine, too,” she whispered.

“I don’t deserve it. I’ve neglected you. I’ve put my own needs above yours.”

“You’ve put the needs of a country ahead of mine,” she countered. “And somehow I found that forgivable every step of the way. So, please stop worrying, okay?”

“My worries are behind me.” He kissed her on the forehead. “But I’ve learned a lot about what it’s going to take to keep them behind me. This morning the Lord reminded me of a scripture: What does it profit a man if he wins the White House but forfeits his soul?” He paused and gave a little shrug. “Okay, so that’s not exactly how it goes, but it’s close. How would it benefit me to win the highest prize in the land—the office of President—if I lost my soul along the way?”

“You won’t lose your soul, baby.” Victoria threw her arms around him. “I know you better than that.”

“Maybe not completely, but if you knew the countless hours I’ve spent fretting, strategizing, calculating. . .worrying. . .you would know that I’ve already given too much of myself to this process.”

“Your motives are noble, though.”

My motives might’ve been noble in the beginning but lately they’ve been slipping. I’ve cared more about numbers, more about the money coming in from my supporters, than what a win would actually mean for the country. And for you.”

“What are you saying, Beau?” Her forehead wrinkled in concern.

“What I should’ve said weeks ago. I hope you don’t mind that I plan to do so now in front of our friends and family.” He turned to face the crowd and the room grew silent. “I plan to withdraw from the race, effective today. That’s what I’ve been trying to say all along.”

“W-what?” Victoria paled. “Are you sure?”

“I am. From tomorrow on, I’m all yours. Well, yours and the state of Texas. But my term will be over soon and I’ll probably pull back from politics altogether. Maybe go back into law.”

“Whoa, there.” She shook her head. “I love the fact that you’re a public servant, so don’t throw the baby out with the bath water. If you’re convinced you should withdraw from the run for the White House, I will agree wholeheartedly. But let’s don’t think about leaving Texas without the best senator they’ve ever had. That’s an unnecessary move.”

“I’ll pray about it, I promise.”

“Oh, praise the Lord!” Jolene raised her arms to the sky. “I couldn’t bear it if I lost my favorite senator.”

He gave Jolene a “Who in the world are you?” look, then continued. “Well, like I said, I’ll pray about it. And that’s really the driving force in my life right now. A combination of things led me to drop out of the presidential race: the polls showed me slipping off of the radar, but even that wasn’t what got to me. I really felt like I needed to bow out because, well. . .” He raked his fingers through his hair.

“Why?” we all asked in unison.

“Because I had a Damascus Road experience last night.”

Laz paled. “Oh. My. Goodness. Did it involve a bus? Headlights?”

“No.” Beau shook his head. “No bus. No headlights. Nothing weird. I was in bed last night, nearly asleep, when I—”

“Saw a bright light?” Laz asked.

“Well, that too. The power had been off—some sort of electrical problem in the hotel—and it came back on just as I was dozing off. The whole room lit up. But the strangest part. . .the TV came on. I was blinded by the light but I heard the voice on the television, loud and clear.”

“What did the voice say?” Mama asked.

“Yes, tell us, baby,” Victoria said.

He nodded and his eyes narrowed. “The voice said, ‘Turn and go the other way.’”

“Turn and go the other way?” we all repeated in unison.              

“Was it. . .God?” Twila asked. “Speaking through the TV?”

Beau shook his head. “No. It turned out the television was on a rerun of Gilligan’s Island. It was the Skipper, telling Gilligan to turn and go the other way so he wouldn’t fall into quicksand. But, just as plain as day, it was the Lord speaking to me. ‘Turn and go the other way.’”

“The Lord certainly speaks in mysterious ways.” Bonnie Sue shook her head and tears started to flow. “Thank You, Jesus!”

“Yes, He certainly does.” Beau looked at Bonnie Sue, and though it was obvious he didn’t have a clue who she was, he gave her a polite nod. “And now, friends and family, I think it’s time for a wedding rehearsal, don’t you?”

“Oh I do! I do!” Victoria threw her arms around his neck and planted kisses on his cheek.

“Don’t say your I Do’s too quickly, girlie,” Twila said. “Or you’ll end up hitched a day too early.”

“I wouldn’t mind one little bit.” Victoria giggled. “Not one little bit.”

She might not mind, but I sure would, and so would tomorrow’s guests. They were looking forward to a tea party wedding, and I planned to give it to them. In fact, this might just be the best wedding anyone in the great state of Texas had ever seen!

 

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

I Will Always Love You

 

Every politician should have been born an orphan and remain a bachelor.

Lady Bird Johnson

 

Valentine’s morning dawned clear and bright, though very, very cold. And though we’d worked our tails off last night to get Club Wed set up for today’s big event, I found myself fretting.

D.J. and I got the kiddos ready for church and hit the read for the early service. I didn’t stay for Sunday school, not with my thoughts in such a whirl. I headed off to the wedding facility to give things a final once-over. I couldn’t help but think back to last night’s announcement from the groom. I could feel the tension leave Victoria’s face the moment Beau told her he was dropping out of the race. Surely today’s ceremony and reception would be a breeze, now that their life-stresses were behind them.

Of course, mine were just beginning. I still had to coordinate a wedding with three hundred guests. And deal with the Secret Service. Even though Beau was no longer a candidate, they still planned to make their presence known. And make it known, they did.

As I entered the wedding facility, O’Conner gave me a wave, which I returned. A couple of the other guys nodded at me, then shifted their gaze to the road, as if expecting a calamity of some sort. Me? My expectations were completely different. I had a feeling in my gut that this would be a wonderful day, all the way around.

As soon as I entered the reception hall I went to work unloading the china plates I’d rented. Cassia put the centerpieces in place. A few minutes later Sophia arrived to help. “Um, Bella?”

“Yes?” I looked up from my work.

“Are my eyes deceiving me, or is there a man in a suit on the roof of the building holding a pair of binoculars?”

I sighed. “Kind of takes away the romance, when you put it like that, but yes, there’s a man in a suit on the roof. And I would imagine he’s holding binoculars.”

“Do you mind if I ask why there’s a man on the roof holding binoculars?”

“He’s keeping watch over his flock by night.”

“Very funny. So, Secret Service, then?”

“Yeah.”

“But the groom dropped out of the race. Right? I mean, I wasn’t here last night to hear it for myself, but it’s all over the news.”

“Yeah, he dropped out, but they’re still covering him. From what I was just told, he might be more of a risk after making the announcement. You never know what weirdos might be out there, ready to pounce.”

“Lovely. Very comforting idea.”

“I’m sure it’ll be okay. I feel better those guys are here to keep a watchful eye on things.”

Before long Rosa arrived. Then Laz. Then Mama. Then Pop. Before long, the whole crew was there, taking care of last minute details. I kept up my work at the table, putting each lovely piece of china in place. Renting these gorgeous pieces had been a terrific idea, if I did say so, myself.

“Oooh, Bella!” Sophia held up a dinner plate, her mouth dropping open. “This is magnificent.”

“I think so too. You should’ve seen the price tag attached.” I shivered, remembering. “But the bride wanted true Victorian pieces that looked as if they’d come straight out of the late 1800s, so that’s what she’s getting. I can only pray no one drops a plate. Not sure you’d believe me if I told you the replacement cost on even one piece.”

Her hand began to tremble and she set the plate on the table. “Maybe I’d better let you and Mama do this. You know what a Klutz I am. Is there something else I can help you with?”

I directed her to Cassia, who needed her help with the centerpieces. Minutes later, Scarlet arrived with the cake—each layer still in individual boxes. Rosa helped her assemble the gorgeous six-tiered wonder and we all gathered around as Scarlet took out a large box of flowers she’d crafted by hand—all from gumpaste and fondant—and applied them in cascade-form down the cake. I’d never seen such a beautiful, elegant combination of flowers, or such delicate scrolling.

“Whoa, Scarlet.” I gave a little whistle. “I think this one’s pretty enough for a—”

“First lady?” she asked and then gave me a wink.

“Ah, you didn’t hear, then?” Rosa cleared a blob of buttercream from the tablecloth and then gathered up the leftover crumbs into one of the boxes. “DeVine dropped out of the race.”

“No.” Scarlet’s expression shifted from joy to despair. “Seriously?”

“Yep.” I gave a nod. “You sound disappointed, but the bride sure isn’t. She’s relieved.”

“Ah.” Scarlet grew silent. “I can’t believe I didn’t hear about it.”

“It’s been on every news station,” Mama said.

“I was at the bakery most of the night finishing up the cake.” She yawned. “That might explain it. I guess it’s just pure ego on my part. I wanted to be able to say that I’d made the wedding cake for the president and his wife. You know? Sure would’ve looked good on my resume.”

“Hey, he’s still a senator who ran for president,” I reminded her. “There’s got to be something special that can come from that story. The man who would be president, and all that. . .”

“Yeah, I guess. Only, you wouldn’t believe how much trouble I went to. I talked several of my customers into voting for him. I’ve been working overtime to get him elected.” She grew quiet and then shrugged. “Oh well. Dumb move on my part, I guess.”

“Only dumb if you hadn’t planned to vote for him in the first place,” Rosa said, and then gave Scarlet a wink. “But we won’t ask you that question.”

“Actually. . .” Scarlet took the box of crumbs from Rosa. “Ah, never mind. I guess it doesn’t matter now.” She stood back and examined the cake. “But it does look pretty, doesn’t it? I’ve never made one that I liked more. Did you notice how intricate the piping is?”

“I did. But what really takes my breath away are the flowers, Scarlet. I hope you won’t take this the wrong way, but you’ve really come a long way, baby. I mean, you were always good, but your flowers are really life-like now.”

“Girl, you wouldn’t believe how many hours I spent working on those. This little bambina and I have had a lot of quiet time in the kitchen.” She rubbed her belly.

“So, Armando told you that we already know the baby’s sex?” I asked.

She nodded. “Yeah. I don’t mind. I mean, we planned to do a gender reveal cake next weekend at our Rossi family dinner, but what does it matter, really? As long as we all welcome her in style at my baby shower. You are helping with that, right, Bella?” She gave me an imploring look.

“Helping? You bet I am. Wouldn’t miss that for anything in the world.” I gave her a hug and she seemed to relax.

A couple of minutes later I noticed O’Conner standing guard near the cake table. He watched as Scarlet put the finishing touches on the confectionary masterpiece. I couldn’t help myself. I walked up to him and patted him on the back. “Have time for a little lighthearted conversation, Agent O’Conner?”

“We don’t do lighthearted conversation, Mrs. Neeley.”

“Right, I know. Just kidding.”

“We don’t kid, Mrs. Neeley.”

“Know that, too.” I gave him a little wink. “Do you mind if I ask one question, though?”

“Ask away.”

“Why do you guys always assume the position?”

“Assume the position?” He looked perplexed. “I beg your pardon?”

“You guys always stand in the same position. All of you. Hands clasped together. Standing perfectly still. You know. . .the position. And all of your guys seems to be really. . .”

“Buff,” Scarlet said, looking away from the cake for a moment. “They’re buff.”

Scarlet!” I gave her a “Please be quiet” look but that didn’t stop her.

“We work hard to stay in shape, Ma’am: Boxing. Wrestling. Weight training. Jiu-Jitsu.”

“Jiu-Jitsu?” Scarlet took one of the wedding cookies from a tray and started nibbling on it. “Is that some kind of religious cult?”

“No Ma’am.” O’Conner cleared his throat and turned to face another direction.

Scarlet leaned in close. “I had no idea these guys had their own separate religion,” she whispered. “Have you ever heard of Jiu-Jitsu, Bella?”

“Yes, but it’s not a religion.”

“He seems pretty dedicated to it.” She finished off the cookie.

“Um, Scarlet?” I pointed to the crumbs on her fingertips.

“Oops. Almost forgot they weren’t meant for me. But don’t worry, Bella. . .I made plenty of extras. I always do. Besides, I’m pregnant. You know? A girl needs her cookies when she’s expecting.”

“Then what’s my excuse?” Pop asked as he walked by and snagged one.

When I scolded him, he pushed out his belly to make himself look pregnant.

“I’m not falling for that,” I said. “Now, everyone back away from the table. I need everything to be perfect today.”

“Things will never be perfect, Bella-Bambina.” Mama’s voice sounded from behind me. I turned to face her. “But we do the best we can. True?”

“True. I just want this to be a memorable day.”

“Oh, trust me. . .it’ll be memorable.” Pop rolled his eyes. “When I crossed the lawn from our house to the wedding facility, a Secret Service agent patted me down. Trust me when I say this is a day I’ll never forget.” He rolled his eyes. “And I’ll also add that it can’t end soon enough for me.”

From across the room I caught a glimpse of Uncle Laz trying to hand out
Laz for Prez
buttons to a couple of the caterers. One of them took his button and pinned it on her apron, but her O’Conner made her remove it.

“Laz isn’t giving up, is he?” I groaned. “He’s going to carry this joke all the way—”

“To the White House.” Uncle Laz said as he stepped into place beside me. “So, you might as well wear one of my buttons, Bella. You know you want to.”

“I’m sorry, Uncle Laz, but I can’t do that, especially not today. You know that.”

“Sure you can. DeVine has dropped out of the race. That ups my chances.”

“From .000001%, you mean?” Pop slapped his knee and laughed. He somehow got choked on a cookie as he did. For a minute there I thought we were going to have to do the Heimlich. So did O’Conner, who came running. Fortunately, Pop managed to catch his breath.

And just in time, too. I glanced at my watch and gasped as I realized the bride was expected to arrive any minute now. I sprinted to her changing room to make sure every detail was in order. Then, just as I turned back toward the door, Victoria swept in, entourage in tow.

Yep, it was time to get this show on the road.

             

 

 

 

 

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