Until My Heart Stops Beating (23 page)

              Makeba crept up behind him catching the tail end of the conversation between Declan and Shelly.

              “I’m so sorry it didn’t turn out the way you wanted.”

              He turned around and hugged her.

              “It’s not your fault honey. C’mon, we have guests.”

              When they returned to the table Sam was back in his seat. Everyone was quiet and sitting still like statues, almost as if they were afraid to breathe. Makeba and Declan took their seats and resumed eating as if nothing happened. Everyone followed suit.

              “So, did you guys set a date for the wedding?” Shyanne asked, breaking the silence.

              “June, June 23rd,” Makeba replied looking at Declan as if she was asking a question.

              He nodded. “I can’t wait,” he replied.

              “I’m so excited,” added granny.

              Makeba glanced at Shyanne.

              “I would really like it if you would be one of my bridesmaids?”

              Astounded, Shyanne dropped her fork and ran around the table to Makeba. Standing in front of her, she grabbed her hand. Smiling, she asked, “Really?’

              Makeba shook her head in confirmation.

              “Yes, really.”

              Shyanne screamed as she bent down hugging her future sister-in-law. Granny guffawed at her reaction and so did Declan and Sam and everyone else in attendance. It didn’t take long before everything went back to normal. They talked, joked, and told childhood stories like nothing ever happened. Despite the show Shelly put on earlier it turned out to be the perfect evening.

 

~*~

 

              Makeba walked into the kitchen to find
Declan drying his hands on the dishtowel. Slowly, she walked towards him. He turned to greet her, smiling at the woman he was sure God created just for him. His heart pounded against his chest as he swallowed hard. Shocked that she still had this effect on him after all this time, he shook his head as he continued to smile.

              “What?” she asked observing his actions.

              “You still make me feel like a teenage boy with a crush on his college professor.”

              She chuckled as she closed whatever space was between them. Smiling, she
gazed into his eyes running her
fingers though
his hair. Rising on her toes, she showered him with quick, soft, kisses that eventually escalated to kisses with a heated passion that sent fiery sensations throughout her body filling her with a need that had to be met immediately. There was no time to move to a more appropriate venue or a more comfortable place than on the floor. It had to be now, at that very moment. She wasn’t a patient woman but a starving one, feeling like she had been a victim of famine for months. She took his tongue in her mouth sucking on it like a green apple blow pop. His reaction to her kisses, touches, moans didn’t make things better. In fact it made her desires almost unbearable. The need to have him was beyond anything she could control. Lowering herself onto the floor, she pulled him down on top of her, surrendering as he lovingly, patiently, and gingerly gave her everything her body craved.

              The next morning Makeba rose early. It was decided the night before that she and Shyanne would go looking for bridesmaid dresses. With only seven months until she’d become Mrs. Declan Whitaker, time was not on her side.

              Makeba tried on dress after dress as did
Shyanne. Suddenly, she became overwhelmed with sadness. Here she was doing something with Shyanne that she should be doing with her mom and the fact that her dad would not be walking her down the aisle made the experience even more heart wrenching. Observing her sudden mood change Shyanne approached her.

              “What’s wrong honey?” she asked through sympathetic eyes.

              Wiping the tears from her eyes she said, “I should really be doing this with my mom.”

              Shyanne hugged her.

              “I agree wholeheartedly but in the meantime it doesn’t hurt to at least look.”

              Makeba shook her head.

              “You’re right,” she replied looking down at Shyanne. “That dress is beautiful.”

              “You think so?” she asked twirling
around so Makeba can get a view of the entire dress.

              “Yes it is.”

              “Well, it’s your wedding and it’s up to
you what we wear. I have tried on approximately ten dresses and this is the only one that got that reaction from you.”

              “I say we go with this one.”

              “So do I,” Shyanne replied smiling as she danced all the way to the dressing room.

              Makeba guffawed at her antics. In her eyes Shyanne was cool and she was grateful that she had been accepted by another member of Declan’s family. Unlike her mother, Shyanne, Sam, Granny and a few other family members was ecstatic that Declan was getting married. It showed just how much in their enthusiasm. She was confident that her and Shyanne would become really good friends. It was a shame that Shelly couldn’t be just as happy for her and Declan but happy or not Makeba was here to stay.

 

 

 

 

 

ACCEPTING WHAT IS

 

 

              The holiday season had come and gone. Unfortunately, it turned out to be one of the worst Makeba had ever experienced. Thanksgiving was a disaster and Christmas was even worse. Mr. Jones made it evident how much he detested their relationship. He adamantly refused to make amends with her. She thought all that had changed. During the time when she miscarried, he was warm, caring and concerned but it had all changed quickly the moment she got better and left with Declan to visit Chicago. It was apparent that as long as she continued to be with Declan, she would do so at the cost of not having a healthy relationship with her father. The one thing that made spending the holidays with the family worthwhile was that Mark had come home for both, which gave her the opportunity to spend time with not only him but her niece and sister-in-law as well.

              On several occasions she had mentioned to Mark how much she envied him. His relationship with their dad had improved tremendously. He assured her that things would get better in time. Unfortunately, she couldn’t be as assured as he was especially after being brushed off every time she tried to converse with her dad. The last time she tried she poured her heart out telling him how much it would kill her if he wasn’t the one walking her down the aisle on her wedding day. Even after all the tears and pleading with him to reconsider and give Declan a chance, he refused to give in. His heart had hardened and there was nothing that could be done to soften it except calling off the wedding and ending her relationship with the man she loved but that was not an option. In that moment she realized she had to accept things for how they were. She was in love with a man her dad despised solely on the basis of the color of his skin. Growing up she would have never imagined her father a racist but he was, and for the first time in her life, she was not only disappointed in him but ashamed. Everyone in her family accepted her soon to be husband except him. Had he had a valid reason for his dislike maybe she would have been able to better understand how he felt but there was none. He was no better than Shelly.

              She recalled sitting at the dinner table anxious to find out how Mark would take
to Declan. They had been in the living room for almost an hour talking sports, business, and whatever else they could think of. During their chatter they discovered they had a lot in common. Once Mrs. Jones announced that dinner was being served, Mark and Declan entered the dining room taking their seats. She glanced at Mark hoping his expression would reveal something positive. It didn’t. His countenance was completely unreadable. Knowing how important his opinion meant to her, Mark decided not to keep her in suspense too much longer. He very discreetly gave her a slight smile and two thumbs up. She was filled with elation. He had given her his approval which meant an awful lot to her. Even her mom seemed to take to him as if he had been a part of their family for years but she had since the very beginning. Inhaling deeply, she smiled as she began to pass the platters of food around the table.

 

~*~

 

              The next several months was hectic. Makeba witnessed firsthand how weddings can bring out the worst in people. Thank God she wasn’t a bridezilla but her Maid of Honor and a few of her bridesmaids sure did fit the description. They disagreed on almost everything: the dresses, footwear, even the table settings. Finally fed up with all the bickering, she stepped in and announced that all final decisions would be made by her and her alone. Besides, it was her wedding anyway.

              The day of the final fitting had arrived. Patiently she waited at David’s Bridal for the sales clerk to bring out her dress. As they waited, she fought hard not to bring up her dad. The closer the wedding came the more difficult it was to ignore that he wouldn’t be there but at the same time she didn’t want to put more than she already had on her mother’s shoulders. It was evident that her issues with her dad had also become her mom’s and she felt really bad about that.

              “Aaah, here we go Ms. Jones,” said the clerk holding the top of the dress in one
hand and the bottom draped over her arm.

              Makeba rose as she approached; so did Mrs. Jones, Rasheeda and Marcella. All were anxious to see how beautiful she would look. Carefully Mrs. Jones grabbed the hanger with one hand and removed the bottom of the dress from the arm of the clerk.

              “Go on inside,” she said.

              “Ok mama,” Makeba replied as she entered the dressing room with the clerk and Mrs. Jones following close behind her.

              Mrs. Jones hung the dress on a hook then turned on her heels and kissed Makeba.

              “I’ll be outside when you’re done.”

              “You don’t want to stay and help me get dressed?”

              “No, I want the pleasure of seeing my beautiful daughter stand in front of me in her wedding dress for the very first time. I’ll send your Maid of Honor in to help out.”

              She smiled.

              “Thanks mom.”

              Mrs. Jones smiled then left.

              Not long after Rasheeda entered.

              “You summoned, my queen,” she said as she bowed playfully in front of Makeba.

              They chuckled.

              “You are nuts girl. Help me put this dress on.”

              “Sure thing.”

              Makeba raised her arms as Rasheeda and the sales clerk brought the dress down over her head straightening it out on the sides. After being zipped up by her friend, she perused herself in the mirror. There couldn’t have been a better dress for her. It was beautiful. She was glad she didn’t pick out her dress when she went shopping back in Chicago a few months ago with Shyanne. If she had, she wouldn’t have had the opportunity to go with her mom. It was Mrs. Jones who picked out the dress that was sure to make her a princess bride.

After looking herself over, Makeba exited the dressing room. The expression on her mother’s face said it all. In no time Mrs. Jones was dabbing the tears forming in the corners of her eyes. Smiling, Makeba went over to her and hugged her tight.

              “You look absolutely amazing baby.”

              “Thank you for picking out such a beautiful dress mama.”

              “Only the best for my little girl.”

              “Wow, Makeba. You look amazing.”

              “Thank Marcella.”

              Makeba returned to the dressing room to change into the clothes she came in with. After she was done she thanked the sales clerk, took her mother’s arm and left the store along with her two friends. In less than three weeks she will be in Chicago at the beach house marrying the man she loved, a man she knew without a doubt, loved her too.

 

 

 

 

 

SURPRISE

 

 

              This was the day every little girl dreams of and Makeba was no exception. Time after time she imagined what this day would be like. Today, she’d finally get the chance to experience it for herself.

              Getting to this point hadn’t been easy for her and Declan. Still there was no rectification in her relationship with her dad which meant he wouldn’t be walking her down the aisle and Shelly refused to attend the wedding. Feeling awful that his mother refused to be a part of one of the most important times of his life, she suggested that they postpone the ceremony on several occasions but he dismissed the idea. He wanted to marry her even if there was no one in attendance but him, her and the pastor and he told her so.

              Although this was supposed to be one of the happiest for her she couldn’t help but feel a little melancholy. What woman wouldn’t want to be escorted by the man whose supposed to be their first love. Oh well, she couldn’t dwell on that now. Her father made a conscious decision not to be a part of her wedding and there was nothing she could do about that. Mark was her back up plan and she wouldn’t have had it any other way.

              A few minutes later the Bridal party entered, surrounding her, telling her how beautiful she was. Glancing at Rasheeda brought a smile across her lips. She would have never believed it if she hadn’t seen it for herself. Her friend was in a dress.

              “Thank you,” she mouthed knowing that she had only agreed to do it for her.

              “Only for you girl,” Rasheeda replied, “Only for you.”

              The women drank wine, snacked on cheese and crackers and made small chatter. Suddenly there was a knock on
the door capturing everyone’s attention. Looking around checking to see if anyone was missing, Makeba realized everyone that was supposed to be in the room was
accounted for.

              “Maybe it’s my mom,” she said looking toward the door.

              Rasheeda approached the door. ”Who
is it?”

            
 
“It’s me, Declan.”

              Sighing Rasheeda cracked the door. Shyanne rushed over toward them asking Declan what he was doing.

              “Now you know damn well you can’t see her before the wedding.”

              “I know Rasheeda but it doesn’t mean I can’t talk to her.”

              “Declan go away.’

              “Please Shyanne.”

              Makeba nervously rose from her chair. She had no idea what this was about.
Had he changed his mind? What was so important it couldn’t wait until after the wedding?

              Pulling up the sides of her dress, she rushed to the door careful to keep out of his sight.

              “Baby, what’s wrong?”

              “Nothing,” he replied through trembling lips. “I just want to ask you a question.”

              “What is it?”

              “Will you still marry me today?”

              A warm loving feeling enveloped her. Raising her hand to her heart, she fought back the tears.

              “I love you and I can’t wait for you to be my wife. I just want to make sure you’ll meet me at the altar.”

              “Oh my love, I impatiently wait for the moment when I say I do. It seems as if time has slowed drastically since I rose this morning. Changing my mind is unfathomable since I can't even imagine living the rest of my life without you in it.”

              She leaned against the door as she waited for his response.

              “You are my heart and soul. I love you.”

              “For how long?”

              “Until my heart stops beating, Makeba.”

              “Ditto, Declan.”

              “I have to go now but please don’t keep me waiting.”

              “I promise, I won’t.”

              “How will I know who you are?”

              “I’ll be the woman walking down the aisle in a long white dress, matching veil, and a bouquet of flowers with love in her eyes searching for the man who stole my heart.”

              “I am he, who has stolen your heart and I will be there waiting for your arrival, not to return it, but to mesh our hearts together as we become one.”

              No matter how hard she tried not to, she cried as she gently pressed her body against the door causing it to close completely. Wiping her eyes, she turned around, the entire bridal party was in tears. It was such a touching moment and loving exchange that no one under the sound of their voices were exempt from the level of emotion that was attached to the words they had spoken to one another.

              “Damn, I think Nicholas Sparks already wrote this love story.”

              Everyone laughed at Shyanne’s comment. Rasheeda grabbed the napkin off the dresser and passed the box around.

              “Thanks Makeba for destroying our makeup,” said Marcella.

              “Well, if it makes you feel any better, mine can use a touch up.”

              Shyanne grabbed the makeup bag and freshened up everyone’s makeup. Not long after there was another knock on the door as it was being pushed open. Assuming it was Declan again, the girls rushed toward the door slamming it shut.

              “Hey, I can’t come in?”

              They chuckled after hearing Mark’s voice. Marcella opened the door, stepping to the side for him to enter.

              “Sorry, we thought you were Declan again,” Marcella replied.

              “No problem,” he said as he walked over to Makeba. Perusing her from head to toe, he smiled as he took her hand in his. “You are gorgeous little sister.”

              “Thank you Mark.”

              “Are you ready though because that man is going to have a heart attack if we don’t hurry up and get this thing on the road.”

              “Yes, we’re ready.”

              “Ok let me go and inform the pastor so we can get started,” he said and left.

              Makeba looked around the room at her bridal party. The girls were absolutely stunning in their chiffon, knee length, pastel color, spaghetti-strapped dresses. Their hair was pinned up with Gerber daisies to match whatever color their dress was. There was no heels at this wedding. Flip flops it was, each decorated
with a handmade bow the same color and fabric of the dresses. The bridesmaid's bouquets were also made with an array of Gerber daisies. This was definitely a summer
wedding and there wasn’t a better place to have it than at the beach house.

              The bridesmaids lined up as the music began to play. One by one they were escorted down the makeshift aisle which ran from the porch deck to the area where the preacher, Declan and Sam were standing.

              “Are you ready?”

              She turned around and smiled nodding her head in response to Mark’s question. “Yes I am.’

              “Then let’s do this.”

              He placed her arm under his as they walked out onto the deck. Once outside he released her hand and placed it in the hand of their father.

              “Daddy?” she said as she hugged him long and tight.

              Overwhelmed with emotion tears ran down her father’s cheeks as he held his daughter. Immediately, he wiped them away. It had been so long since his baby girl had been in his arms. What a fool he was for wasting time on nonsense, time he couldn’t get back. Releasing himself from the embrace, he wiped the tears streaming from her eyes.

              “Daddy, what a wonderful surprise.”

              “I couldn’t let this day go by and not be a part of one of the best days of your life. What kind of father would I be If I wasn’t here to give my baby girl away?”

              Shaking her head she said, “You don’t know how much this means to me.”

              “I have a pretty good idea because I know how much it means to me.
I’m sorry baby girl and I promise from here on out, I will give Declan a chance and get to know him myself. If you love him enough to marry him, then he can’t be that bad of a guy,” he chuckled.

              “No, he’s not daddy. He’s a wonderful guy and he loves me.”

              “I believe that wholeheartedly.”

              “Ahem!”

              They turned around. Mark was standing to the left clearing his throat in an effort to get their attention.

              “We do have a wedding ceremony going on.”

              They chuckled.

              “Yes, we do Mark,” replied Makeba.

              “Yes, we do son.”

              Mr. Jones turned to face Makeba and pulled her veil down over her face. “You look amazing. I’m so proud of you.”

              “Thank you.”

              The guests rose to their feet as the bride, in her pearl white Christina Wu gown with dazzling crystals around the edge, and a bodice that clung tightly around the hips exposing how curvy she really was, began to walk down the aisle. The dress was beautiful beyond words. It flared at the bottom into a sparkling laced trimmed flute train.

              The sun was starting to set which made the scenery magical. Lanterns were strung from above on both sides of the aisle. The arch hanging over the small stage where the ceremony would take place was decorated in Gerber daisies and sparkling white lights. There were tables on the left and the right that seated six to eight people. They were covered in cloths to match the bridesmaids dresses. Partially submerged Gerber daisies accented by blue vase gems served as centerpieces. The dance floor was black and white with chandeliers and starry stringed lights hanging from above. To the right was the wedding party table, decorated with flowers and floating candles. Things couldn’t have looked better. Makeba was more than pleased at how everything turned out.

              Holding tight to her wedding bouquet with one hand and her father’s arm with the other, she stared down the aisle at the man she would be joined with. With every step tears of joy escaped her eyes.
Thank God for waterproof mascara, she thought.

              Once she reached her destination, her father took her hand and placed it in Declan’s hand, kissed her on the cheek, then took a seat in the front next to her mother who was teary-eyed herself.

              After the ceremony, the guests were all given lanterns that were released in the sky signifying their union. The sight of all those lanterns floating through the sky was so beautiful that she made sure the wedding photographer captured it in photographs. The day would have been perfect had Shelly shown up. Her dad of all people, was stubborn as she knew he could be, put aside his personal feelings and showed up to share in their special day. Not so for Shelly. Makeba made one last effort the day before the wedding to convince her to come but she declined. Makeba threw up her hands and left knowing that with or without his mother’s presence, the wedding would go on as planned and it did.

              After the couple’s first dance as husband and wife, they sat at the table resting her aching feet. Feeling a strong masculine hand on her shoulder caused her to look up.

              “Hey daddy,” she smiled.

              He sat beside her. “Hey baby girl.”

             
“Let me ask you something?

             
“Yes.”

             
“I noticed Declan’s mom is not here. Any reason why?”

              “Well, she feels as though he’s marrying beneath him.”

              “What?, he shouted.

              “Shhh daddy, please!”

              He sighed. “Well, I can’t be too upset. Two idiot minds think alike but at least I saw the light.” For a moment he drifted away from the present looking straight ahead. ‘She’ll live to regret not sharing this moment with her son. I know I would have had I not made it. The time I wasted being angry and pigheaded I will never get back.”

              She smiled while rubbing his hand.

              “Anyway, why did you choose him? Tell me what was so special about Mr. Declan Whitaker.”

              Smiling, as she held her head sideways she said,” he chose me daddy and wouldn’t give up. He makes me smile and loves me through all my craziness. I can feel the depth of his love for me even through a simple touch. It can be when he holds my hand while we’re walking in public, when he places his hand in the small of my back or when he simply brushes against me inadvertently. There’s a magnetic energy that transfers from him to me. I must admit, when he first asked me out I declined based on his color alone. Of course I’ll never admit that to him but he never did. He saw me as a woman. He was persistent in his quest and it got to the point where I couldn’t refuse any longer. I’m glad I gave him the chance because he has shown me a love I never knew existed.”

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