“Thank you,” I swallowed hard, looking at him.
This was it.
This was the last day I was going to be a single woman.
Tomorrow, Bob and I were going to stand up in front of everyone we knew, and we were going to make a choice. We were going to tell everyone that we were choosing each other, and it was going to be beautiful.
“Shall we begin?” The pastor spoke from in front of us, and Bob and I both looked up at him. He nodded encouragingly. He probably thought we were both nervous, but we weren’t. I couldn’t be nervous on a day like this because Bob was here to catch me.
He was always here to catch me.
“Yes,” I said proudly. “Let’s begin.”
We walked forward, and the rehearsal began.
*
“Earth to Helena,” Bob’s voice brought me out of my memories, and I looked over at him. Worry creased his brow. “Are you okay, love?”
“I’m fine,” I told him, reaching for his hand. “Just feeling a little nostalgic.”
“I am, too,” he smiled, gently patting my hand. “It brings back memories, doesn’t it?”
“Do you remember our rehearsal?” I asked him, curious.
“Of course,” he winked. “You wore that little red number your mother hated.”
I laughed, shaking my head.
“You do remember.”
“I remember everything, Helena,” he said. “And I don’t regret a single moment of it.”
“Really?”
“Truly,” he nodded. Then he leaned in close and pressed his lips to my cheek. “If I could do it all over again, beautiful, I’d still choose you.”
My heart suddenly felt full and wonderful. Bob was a good man: a sweet man. He was the best man anyone could have ever asked for. Now I suddenly felt worried because I wasn’t sure how to tell him what had been bothering me for the last few weeks.
I wasn’t sure if he was going to judge me for what I needed to say.
4
Bob
She was still scared.
I could see it in her eyes.
Something had gotten to my sweet Helena, and I needed to get her to open up to me. The rehearsal for the wedding was wrapping up. Soon everyone would walk the three blocks over to Granny’s for the dinner.
“What do you think, Mom and Dad?” Matthew was walking toward us, striding down the narrow aisle of the church. He reached the pew we were sitting in and plopped down beside us. That was Matthew: ever the wildling. He was so comfortable in his own skin that he always managed to relax the people around him, too.
“About what?”
“We’re going to drive over to Granny’s,” he said. “It’s a beautiful night, but Dora’s ankle is feeling a little sore.”
“I tripped over my cat this morning,” Dora came over, shaking her head. She laughed a little. “You know what life is like with kittens.”