The Hand-Me-Down Family (11 page)

“It's only natural for a bride to be a bit nervous,” Mrs. Mayweather continued. “What you need is something to take your mind off of the upcoming nuptials.”

“No offense, ma'am,” Callie said, attempting to keep her
tone light, “but I don't think there's anything that can distract me from that particular event right now.”

She knew all about prenuptial jitters. She'd watched all four of her sisters go through it. This was something entirely different. This was a feeling of wrongness that came from the certain knowledge that she was about to enter into marriage with a man who not only didn't love her, but who felt as if he'd had a gun held to his head to agree to it.

Not the most comforting of feelings for a bride-to-be.

“Come now.” Mrs. Mayweather seemed blissfully unaware that anything was amiss. “You've prayed about it and I've prayed about it. It's in God's hands now.”

“You're right.” Callie grimaced. “And I know it shows a lack of faith on my part, but I can't help but wonder if we're doing the right thing. Marriage is a sacred institution, not to be entered into lightly.”

“From where I'm sitting, neither one of you seems to be entering into this lightly.”

Callie sensed a touch of dry humor in the woman's tone.

Mrs. Mayweather dropped another handful of peas into the bowl. “You've both given it serious thought. And you're both committed to making it work for the children, are you not?”

“Yes, of course.” That was the only thing that had gotten them to this point—the thought that they both had the interests of the children at heart.

“Well, there you go. I'm certain God will see fit to bless what you two are doing.”

Callie fervently hoped she was right.

“Oh, by the way.”

The very casualness of Mrs. Mayweather's tone set Callie on the alert. “Yes?”

“I've invited some of the local ladies to come by for tea
tomorrow afternoon. I thought it was high time you became acquainted with a few more of your neighbors.”

Callie froze. Her heart seemed to pause for a moment before stuttering painfully back to life.
“Tomorrow?”

“Of course. I sent the invitations out while you and Jackson were talking to Reverend Hollingsford this morning.”

“How many?” Callie was too appalled to be embarrassed by the croak in her voice.

Mrs. Mayweather lifted her shoulders in a genteel shrug. “A couple of dozen, more or less.”

A couple of dozen! Would Mrs. Mayweather's parlor even hold that many?

“It's a last minute thing, but I expect most everyone to accept.” She gave Callie an amused look. “You must know the whole town is abuzz with your remarkable story. Rather gossipy of us I know, but I also know you're charitable enough to overlook and forgive us our curiosity. We don't get much excitement in our little corner of the world.”

Callie rallied enough to attempt a protest. “But the wedding is the day after tomorrow. There are things I need to take care of and I need to get the children ready to move.” All true statements. “Perhaps now is not—

“Balderdash! Everything for the wedding is taken care of. And sadly, there's not much for the children to pack.” She patted Callie's hand. “I thought it best that folks meet you before the wedding so they can see what a fine person you are.”

Callie tried again. “Thank you, but—”

“No need to thank me.” She settled more squarely in her chair. “Now, let's finish with this little chore and we'll plan out our menu.”

Callie added peas to the bowl with hands that weren't quite steady.

This was a disaster in the making. Crowds, especially crowds of strangers, made her nervous. She'd wanted to ease her way into this community, to give folks here a chance to get to know her one or two at a time before she unveiled herself—the way she had with Mrs. Mayweather and Ida Lee.

Of course, it wasn't as if she'd show her birthmark to them tomorrow. That would be a true disaster. They would likely have a negative reaction, and that reaction would affect Jack's perception of her.

She knew theirs wasn't a love match, but she'd at least hoped to build a life with him that was based on mutual respect.

All of those hopes could be summarily dashed if tomorrow did not go well.

T
he next day, Callie stood in Mrs. Mayweather's parlor, surrounded by at least twenty-five ladies of varying ages.

The children had escaped to the backyard, where Jack and Virgil had engaged them in a game of horseshoes.

Callie envied them. She couldn't remember ever being in the midst of such a crowded room, much less finding herself the center of attention at such a gathering.

Her family would never have allowed it. One of her sisters would have stood beside her at all times, keeping her company while shielding her from undue attention. Far from serving in that capacity, Mrs. Mayweather was busy circulating amongst her guests.

During a lull in the ever-shifting conversation, Callie stole away to the corner table where a punch bowl sat. Her head spun from all the introductions. How in the world was she going to remember all those names, much less which faces they went with?

But at least she hadn't made any embarrassing missteps yet. Perhaps Mrs. Mayweather's plan hadn't been so dreadful after all. Callie filled one of the delicate crystal cups and took
a fortifying sip before turning to face the room again. She found herself nearly toe-to-toe with two of the ladies she'd met earlier.

The women were Alma Collins, president of the Sweetgum Ladies' Auxiliary, and her vice president, Jane Peavey. But Callie couldn't remember which was which.

“Mrs. Mayweather makes the most delicious apple peach cider, don't you agree?” the one in the blue dress asked.

Callie moved aside to allow the women to refill their cups. “Yes, quite delicious.”

“We hear you're a friend of Julia's,” the one in the yellow dress added.

“Yes.” Perhaps she could carry on this conversation without using names. “We lived next door to each other as children and kept in touch after she moved here.”

“Well, I must say, I do so admire you. It must have taken so much courage to agree to marry a man you'd never met.” Mrs. Blue Dress placed a hand to her heart. “And then to travel all this way by yourself! Why, land's sake, I just don't know if I could have done such a thing.”

“Actually, some friends of the family accompanied me on the train ride.” Another of her father's precautions. “It was only when I boarded the stage at Parson's Creek that I was without an escort.”

“Still, Alma's right, that was mighty brave of you.”

Aha! That meant Mrs. Blue Dress was Alma Collins, which made the speaker Jane Peavey.

Callie smiled, glad to have navigated past that conversational pitfall. “It's kind of you to say so, but I'm afraid I truly can't claim to have much in the way of courage. In fact I was quite nervous every step of the way. It was faith that brought me through. I felt God's presence with me all the way here.”

“What a wonderful attitude.” Mrs. Collins sketched a toast with her cup. “It does you credit, my dear.”

“And it's so compassionate of you to take all the children in,” Mrs. Peavey added.

“Not at all.” Callie resisted the urge to bolt from the room. She could barely stand being the focus of these women's attention. “I'm looking forward to caring for the three of them. I only pray that I'm up to the task.”

Mrs. Peavey took a sip of her punch and gave Callie an arch smile. “I must admit, I am surprised you were able to convince Jack to join forces with you. He's always been so footloose. Why, even when we were all running about the schoolyard, Jack would talk about how he wanted to travel the country. And from the looks of things he certainly hasn't let anything tie him down since he left.”

Callie's back stiffened, but she kept her smile firmly in place. “People change. And to be honest, Mr. Tyler was quite insistent that he have a hand in raising the children.”

Mrs. Peavey raised a delicate brow. “Is that so?”

Callie's discomfort was quickly changing to irritation. “Absolutely. He's going to make an excellent father.”

The women shared an arch look that caused Callie's grip to tighten around her cup.

“That's a wonderful sentiment, dear,” Mrs. Collins said. “And perhaps you're right. It has been eleven years, after all.”

She was spared the need to respond by the appearance of Mrs. Mayweather. “I have something I want to show you.”

Callie smiled, grateful for the excuse to change topics.

When Mrs. Mayweather opened the box she was holding, however, all thoughts of the previous conversation fled. Inside, elegantly displayed on a bed of black velvet, was a lustrous strand of pearls with a matching set of earrings. “It's beautiful,” Callie breathed.

“My father gave these to my mother on their wedding day.” Mrs. Mayweather brushed a finger against the pearls, then met Callie's gaze. “I'd like you to wear them on your wedding day.”

“Oh, I couldn't possibly—”

“Nonsense. I know you didn't come prepared for a wedding. And it would make me very happy to see someone put it to such meaningful use again after all these years.”

“I don't know what to say, except thank you.” She was truly touched by the gesture. Her first wedding had been little more than a formality. No one, not even her sisters or her father, had done anything to try to make it a special day for her.

Of course she hadn't really expected them to. It was a proxy ceremony for a marriage to a man she'd never met. How could she blame her family for not bothering to celebrate her wedding day?

“Why don't you try it on?”

Mrs. Collins's question pulled Callie back to the present. She reached out a hand to touch the heirloom piece. “May I?”

“Of course.” Mrs. Mayweather lifted it from the box. “I'm afraid the catch is broken. But don't worry, it's long enough to slide over your head, if you remove your bonnet.”

Callie's hand drew back as if scalded.

Remove her bonnet? In front of all these strangers?

Had Mrs. Mayweather forgotten why she wore the less-than-stylish piece in the first place?

“Perhaps I should wait.”

Mrs. Mayweather gave her a look that said she knew exactly what Callie was thinking. “I insist.” Her voice carried that combination of the compassion and firmness that was peculiar to schoolteachers. “I really do think you should try it on now so everyone can see how lovely it will look.”

Callie searched her hostess's face. She hadn't considered
the woman cruel. So why was she attempting to force Callie to unmask so publicly?

But there was no getting around it. Explaining why she'd prefer not to would be almost as awkward as actually doing it. This was her worst nightmare. She thought about Jack, out in the backyard. What would he want her to do? He said her appearance didn't matter, but would he feel the same once all his friends and neighbors knew?

She took a deep breath and sent up a silent prayer for courage and decided to trust Mrs. Mayweather's instincts. “Very well.”

Quickly, before she could talk herself out of it, Callie reached for her bonnet strings. Her fingers were trembling. The look of approval Mrs. Mayweather sent her way, however, gave her a much needed boost of support.

“I believe it only fair that I warn you all of something.” Callie was surprised at how calm her voice sounded. “I have a rather prominent birthmark on the left side of my face.”

With that, she removed the bonnet.

There were several muted “Oh, my”s and a sharp intake of breath or two, but Callie refrained from trying to identify the sources. Such initial reactions were normal, and she had learned long ago that it served no useful purpose to harbor resentment.

Instead, she moved to a mirror hanging in the foyer and gently eased the strand over her head, trying to ignore the sounds of shifting and clearing throats and even one nervous titter that was quickly shushed. Fidgeting with the necklace long enough to give everyone time to compose themselves, she finally turned to Mrs. Mayweather and pasted on a bright smile that hopefully masked her embarrassment. “Thank you for the loan of such a treasure. I promise to take very special care of it.”

“You're welcome, my dear. And I think it looks absolutely lovely on you.”

Callie removed the necklace and tucked it back in the
box. Then she donned her bonnet once again and gazed around the room.

Suddenly there was a rush of voices, nervously eager to fill the silence. No one, except for Ida Lee and Mrs. Mayweather, met her gaze.

Perhaps Mrs. Mayweather had been right. Painful though it had been, maybe it was best that she got this revelation over with all at once. She just hoped she'd never have to go through such an ordeal again.

The question was, now that everyone knew her secret, how big a difference would it make in their eagerness to welcome her into the community?

And what difference would it make to Jack and the children, and how they felt about her?

 

Callie's second wedding day dawned clear and beautiful.

She had lain awake long into the night, praying and searching for answers that wouldn't come.

And wondering about the repercussions of her unveiling at Mrs. Mayweather's tea party.

It felt strange, dreamlike. For so much of her life she'd accepted that she would never marry and have a family of her own.

Now, in the space of a few short weeks, she was preparing to say her wedding vows for the second time. And again it was to a man who wanted a mother for his children, not a wife for himself.

The morning dragged on interminably. Callie helped the children pack the few possessions they had with them. That, along with most of her own belongings, were loaded into Mrs. Mayweather's buggy.

Once the ceremony was over, the newly formed family of five would proceed directly to their new home together.

Home.

Callie let out a wistful sigh. Would that farmhouse ever truly feel like the home she'd dreamed of when she'd imagined her life with Leland?

No matter. Just thinking of the alternative strengthened her determination. She didn't want to go back to Ohio, and it made no sense for her to stay here and
not
do her part to help this family. And she so looked forward to the sense of freedom country life promised.

Even if she did have strong reservations about her ability to manage the place on her own once Jack left. Just the thought of taking on such a task twisted her stomach in knots. Perhaps Jack would change his mind, decide to stay and work with her to make this a real family.

Callie squelched that thought before it could take root. He'd been very clear on what he was and was not willing to give up when they'd struck this bargain. Expecting him to do a sudden turnaround now was unrealistic and unfair.

No, better to draw comfort from the knowledge that the good Lord wouldn't have set her feet on this path if He hadn't had a purpose for her.

The question was, did she really have the fortitude to see it through?

Callie barely touched her lunch. Later she couldn't recall what was served.

And suddenly it was time to go to the church. Callie donned her best Sunday dress along with the pearls Mrs. Mayweather had loaned her, clutched the flower bouquet Emma and Annabeth had picked for her, and piled into the carriage with Mrs. Mayweather and the children. Simon proudly handled the reins.

Once they arrived, Mrs. Mayweather escorted the children inside while Ida Lee stood with Callie at the back of the church.

A few moments later the piano signaled it was time, Ida Lee gave her hand a squeeze, and Callie stepped from the foyer into the small auditorium.

For a split second she froze, unable to either move forward or retreat, uncertain which she wanted to do more. Every pew was packed. It looked as if all of Sweetgum wanted to see the town's Prodigal Son and the blotchy-faced widow get hitched.

Callie took a deep breath and tugged her bonnet forward. By now everyone would know about her birthmark, but at least she didn't have to bare it to them.

With a quick prayer, she looked straight ahead and began placing one foot in front of the other. She told herself it was perfectly natural for the bride to be the center of attention on her wedding day. But this felt like something very different.

Her hand itched to reach up and tug her bonnet forward again, but she resisted, hoping to portray a serenity she didn't feel.

When her gaze latched on to Jack, her world shifted once again. He looked so different in that Sunday-go-to-meeting suit, so dashing and distinguished. It hit her again that this was not the kind of man who was used to settling for anything, much less a wife.

Her steps faltered. What had they been thinking? Jack didn't really want this. She should—

He met her gaze and a crooked smile curved his lips.

Then, without quite knowing how, Callie was at his side and they were turning to face Reverend Hollingsford.

As the reverend began the service, Callie couldn't help but compare this wedding with her first.