Grace interrupted him quickly. “You will be. No one could think otherwise.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Presents! Nolan… wake up! It’s time to come have presents!” Grace banged on Nolan’s door impatiently.
Nolan opened the door slowly. He looked like a little boy standing there in his flannel pajamas with sleep still clouding his eyes. “Is it morning already?”
Grace found herself involuntarily tracing his jaw line with her fingers. “I’ve never seen you with stubble!”
Nolan wrapped Grace’s hand in his and kissed the back of her fingers. “How about I go get dressed? I’ll be over in a few minutes. I obviously need to shave.”
Grace nodded and started to leave. Turning to him with a whimsical smile, she stopped the door before he had it completely closed. “Nolan? I think you look fine the way you are. Don’t bother shaving. Takes too much time anyway. We’ve got
presents
a-waiting, food that’s a-cooking, lots of songs a-singing,
fun
aaaaaalllll daaaayyyy.”
As Nolan hurried into his clothes, he heard her singing her way back across the street. A quick glance at the mirror proved that a shave was definitely in order. Picking up the shaving cream, Nolan hesitated. Had Grace just been eager to begin opening presents or was she implying that she liked him unshaven now and then?
Reluctantly he set the razor down. Rubbing one hand over his chin, he made a funny face at himself in the mirror before hurrying to the living room. His presents were piled into a reproduction of a vintage wagon for Graceanna. He grabbed the wagon handle, pulled his load across the street, and entered Grace’s home with a cheerful “Ho, Ho, Ho!”
The morning passed in a flurry of wrapping paper. Paige, Nathan, and a tag-a-long Chuck stopped by to exchange gifts. Grace managed not to laugh at the roll of paper towels and can of peanuts tied together with ribbon that Chuck bought each of the women.
Nolan unwrapped his present with trepidation. He wasn’t sure if Grace would use this day for a practical joke, but he didn’t put the idea past her either. He unwrapped a very ‘fuzzy’ pillow. Flannel squares stitched together in order to create a unique effect. Grace took the pillow from him and reached inside a pocket that Nolan had missed. Almost instantly, she reached inside the pocket. Grace flipped the pillow piece inside out and presto… a blanket. “You can put your feet in that pocket if they get cold.”
Nolan felt that any gift would be inadequate after the last week and a half, but he’d really tried. Mike had given him an enlarged picture of them singing at his party. Nolan inserted that picture into the first page of a leather photo album, and on the next page, Nolan taped a business card for a local photographer for their engagement pictures, courtesy of Melanie’s forethought.
A mini version of the album was included. In the little album, every picture that Nolan could find of he and Grace was included. From a snapshot of him playing soccer with Amber, to them teasing one another on Thanksgiving, to a cut out newspaper picture of the geese on Grace’s lawn, no picture was overlooked.
Chuck interrupted in his usual, inelegant style. “You’d think she’ll be seeing you enough without pictures too.”
Nathan and Paige took his words as their cue to leave. As they waved goodbye, Grace asked, “What will Mrs. Matthews say about
Chuck
?”
~*~*~*~
Dinner was over, the gifts carefully put away or packed into Craig and Melanie’s car. Melanie sat in Grace’s most comfortable chair nursing Graceanna while Grace divided the leftovers. In time, the group sat around the room reminiscing about past Christmases.
Taking a sip of his hot apple cider, Nolan gathered his courage. “I have a request to make of you all. It would mean a lot to me if some part of my family’s heritage could be a part of this wedding. Just using Dad’s money to pay for rings or a honeymoon isn’t very meaningful.” Nolan took a deep breath. He looked at Grace, then at Craig. Mentally pleading with Grace and Melanie to understand, he made his request. “I know it’s tradition for the father of the bride to pay for the wedding, the dress, the veil etc. I’m supposed to pay for a rehearsal dinner, the rings, and the honeymoon, and I promise you; I will be content with that. But if you would consider allowing me to provide Grace’s dress and continue what has become a Burke family tradition…”
Graceanna’s coos and giggles were the only sounds in the room. Melanie watched as Craig’s eyebrows drew downward into a scowl, and Grace tried to formulate her thoughts. Nolan’s shoulders drooped when he saw the reaction, and Melanie could see he thought he’d offended the family.
Before anyone spoke and said something that would wound, Melanie decided to ask a question. “You said something about a Burke family tradition. What is that tradition? Can you tell us about it?”
She laid her hand on Craig’s arm and whispered to him. Grace overheard, but Nolan was too far across the room. “Let’s just listen to him; we love him and we know he loves Grace. I don’t think this is about money, Craig. Just listen.”
Nolan cleared his throat, took a sip of his hot apple cider, and spoke. “May I explain? I have a story of my own to tell, a little in the same realm as Craig’s story yesterday. I’ve been hesitant to mention it, because I don’t want to step on toes or cross family traditions that you might have.”
“Our traditions,” Grace murmured, “certainly aren’t any more sacred than yours.” She glanced at her brother as she added, “But I don’t think we have wedding traditions, do we?”
“Tell your story.” Craig’s words sounded clipped and angry, but Nolan saw that he was trying.
“My great, great grandfather married an orphan loaned out to a local farm. The family took care of her in exchange for the work she did; they weren’t wealthy, but they were good to her. When Great-Grandfather Bart asked Melinda Potts to marry him, she came with nothing. No real family, no ‘hope chest,’ nothing. Grandfather didn’t mind; all he wanted was Melinda’s heart.”
As Nolan told the story, Grace could almost hear his mother’s voice telling the tale to him repeatedly as a child. The phrases that Nolan used indicated years of storytelling behind them. Grace reached for Nolan’s hand as he continued.
“The Warners, the family that took in Great Grandmother Melinda, had a daughter, Emily-Jane, who was a very good friend to Melinda. Grandfather Bart conspired with Emily-Jane to pick out the dress that Melinda would have if she could afford any dress she wanted. Then, Grandfather Bart prayed. He wasn’t a wealthy man, but he’d saved as much as possible, almost from the day he met her, in hopes that they could start life with a healthy nest-egg.
“Melinda and Emily-Jane found the wedding dress late one afternoon. The town only had one old fashioned mercantile. The dress had been sitting in the window for quite some time and had become dusty, but Melinda loved it. It was made of a cheap cotton material, but she didn’t care. Emily-Jane showed Bart the dress, and he immediately went to discover how much it would cost. The storeowner was so happy to find someone interested in it that he gave Grandfather Bart a significant discount. The dress was wrapped up and sent by the owner’s son to Melinda’s house.”
Nolan took a drink of his water before he continued. As he sipped, he glanced around the room, trying to judge the family’s reaction. He wasn’t sure, but at least they didn’t look angry.
“It washed up beautifully,” he continued. “When Melinda finished with it, the white was spotless and every wrinkle ironed out. A few stitches in the sides helped to make the dress fit better, and the following weekend, they were married.
“Almost thirty years later, Melinda pulled her wedding dress out to show her daughter in law to be. As she told the story, the young girl held the dress up to her in front of a mirror and twirled a bit. Ellen Jackson, my grandmother, begged to wear the dress. Grandmother Melinda was delighted to hear that it would be worn again. With four sons, and no daughters, she had just assumed that the dress would stay in its wrappings until it turned to dust. Those two women worked hard to remove the yellowing of age and repair the places where the stitching had grown weak. When my grandfather saw his bride coming down the aisle, she was wearing his mother’s wedding dress…” he choked, trying to hide the hope the sprung in his heart as he saw Grace smile at the story.
Grace sighed as she thought about the pretty muslin dress. She was certain that the dress was a simple muslin dress, but how pretty it sounded! She imagined that Nolan was about to tell them that his mother had also worn the dress. Would he want her to wear it as well? She wasn’t sure if she liked the idea or not. There was something sweet and sentimental in the idea, but what if it looked terrible on her? Nolan’s voice broke through her thoughts.
“… Mom was too big for the dress, and it had disintegrated to the touch in some spots. Her father wanted to buy her a dress, but with the medical bills that his wife’s health incurred, he just couldn’t afford it. Mom decided to wear her navy blue suit, like most of her friends did during those war years, and she determined to be happy with wearing her mother’s veil. Dad remembered the stories that he’d grown up hearing and was sorry that his wife couldn’t wear the dress that both his father and grandfather had seen their brides in. Taking a risk, Dad went to dinner one evening at Mom’s family’s house, and he told the story. Then he talked about how he wanted to carry on the tradition but the dress just wasn’t a possibility.”
Nolan took a deep breath. “Dad requested permission to pay for Mom’s dress as his wedding gift to the bride. Grandmom Winston was irate. She cried, she shrieked, she wailed. She was kind of an overly emotional woman, according to Dad. Well, Dad started to back-peddle, but when he heard something about surprises and maidenly modesty, he realized that his future mother-in-law thought he wanted to pick out the dress—to see it before the wedding. Once he assured them that all he wanted was the privilege of assuring his bride of the dress of her dreams, things calmed. After some consultation among the family, it was announced. The tradition could be continued. Mom would choose her dress; Dad would pay the bill. My father loved giving gifts, but I think he considered the greatest gift he ever received was seeing Mom walking down the aisle of that little chapel wearing ‘his’ dress. Their wedding was really small. Most were those days. He shipped out to the South Pacific two weeks later, but he carried their wedding picture with him through battle for ‘good luck.’”
He squeezed Grace’s hand as it stole into his during the story. “It was over there, you know, that Christ claimed my father’s heart. Mom was home, getting letters sporadically. After a time, she noticed that he was sharing insights to things more than he ever had. He mentioned praying for her, and his letters took on deeper meanings. Somehow, even through the cuts by the censors, Mom could see that Dad was a new man. By the time he got home, she was ripe for the gospel. I was born a good eighteen years later.”
Nolan finished his story and the room fell silent again. Craig seethed in his corner, not quite believing that this wasn’t about money. Grace looked from Nolan, to Craig, and finally at Melanie in complete confusion.
“Nolan, would you excuse us, I think we’d like to discuss this alone, if you don’t mind. Maybe you can take a prayer-walk or something. Give us about thirty minutes or so?”
Nolan nodded, kissed the top of Grace’s head, and whispered, “No matter what you decide, I’ll support you. What I want most is for you to be happy with your wedding day.”
As the door shut, everyone began talking at once. Melanie, despite her proper Southern upbringing, grew frustrated and whistled an ear-piercing whistle. All three of them glanced at the baby, who ceased her coos. The baby wiggled and blew raspberries as if to beg for more.
“Whew. I thought I’d scared her. Now listen, you two. I have something to say.”
Melanie waited until Grace and Craig both were paying full attention to her words before continuing. “You know that this proposition goes against everything I have been brought up to expect, to appreciate, and to believe to be right. A man just doesn’t buy his wife’s wedding dress. If Craig had asked, it would have hurt me to do it, but I would have refused. I would have worn a twenty-dollar clearance dress from a department store before I would have allowed Craig to buy my dress. Then again, I’m just a traditional Southern girl with a father who loved providing me with the wedding that I had with all its own traditions and things. Craig almost went crazy a few times because we were concerned with things he thought were no big deal.”
Craig’s face began to clear. The thundercloud that had covered it when Nolan had made his request slowly dissipated. He should have known his wife would speak rationally.
“Grace, you should know,” Melanie continued, “Craig planned to purchase your dress himself. He wanted to give you the gift of whatever dress you’d like to have. Like Nolan, he didn’t want to pick it out for you or even see it. He just wanted that honor, and I knew you’d understand it and at least you’d have a dress that you loved.”
Melanie took a deep breath. With eyes begging patience from her husband, she turned back to Grace and concluded her thoughts. “But, Grace, this is
your
dress—
your
wedding. This is your special day, and if you want to bless Nolan by allowing him to give you this gift, I think even Craig will stand beside you and support you. And, Grace, it is a beautiful thought. Really, I understand his desire to give this to you, I truly do. I think even Craig, if he thought about it, would admit that he would have done the same for me. And if a similar tradition was in the Buscher family, Craig would have wanted to continue it as well.”
Craig sat silently. He was livid. To him, the idea of Nolan paying for any piece of Grace’s wedding was preposterous. He knew Nolan’s net worth. He’d paid for a background check and done a little research on Nolan and the Barnes family when Grace’s neighbor-turned-fiancée first arrived. This was not a man who would miss any amount spent on a lavish wedding. He actually felt insulted that Nolan would mention it.