Chapter Twelve #3
Amid murmurs of pleasure the guests collected their glasses. In an amusing, and expected, conundrum, Miller reached for a glass only to be thwarted by his mother. He scowled and went off to retrieve another glass of sweet tea.
Taylor approached and handed a glass of champagne to Atticus.
Atticus took the wineglass without comment.
Carson came back to his side carrying two tall glasses. “Here, Atticus, I’ve brought you a sweet tea.”
Atticus took the drink and sent a quiet Thank you her way. He discreetly set the wineglass on the table beside him.
“Everyone!” Harper called out. She clanged the side of her glass with a spoon, corralling the attention. Again, the room quieted and everyone looked at her expectantly. She appeared radiant.
“Taylor and I want to thank you all for coming tonight and joining us in celebrating our engagement, and the engagement of Carson and Blake. Our weddings are around the corner now, and this is the first of many celebrations to come.”
There was a chorus of “Hear hear.”
“I look around the room and I see our growing family, and it fills my heart with great joy. First, a toast to family!”
“To family!” the group echoed, and glasses were raised.
Mamaw quickly glanced at Atticus, delighted with the toast that included him. He kept his gaze straightforward, and she wondered if the toast made him feel uncomfortable, or if he was privately pleased.
“I’d like to introduce to you a very special guest. The Reverend Atticus Green.” Harper turned to indicate his presence at her right. “Atticus is a dear family friend of Mamaw’s. And now ours as well. So it’s all the more special that he has agreed to officiate at our weddings.”
A host of muffled expressions of surprise followed.
Mamaw scrutinized the reactions carefully.
Imogene had a stiff smile on her lips and one brow raised, but she appeared more annoyed that she had not been consulted on the decision.
Beside her, the McClellans appeared pleased with the announcement.
One more item checked off the to-do list. David Legare rocked on his heels impassively.
In contrast, his wife Linda’s face was flushed and her lips tightened.
Mamaw’s eyes narrowed. She preempted any disagreeable comments by stepping forward.
“I’m so very delighted,” she said loudly, adding to the toast, “to have someone so dear to my heart marry my darling girls.” She raised her glass as her gaze swept the room, resting longer on Linda Legare. Mamaw turned to her grandson. “Thank you, Atticus.”
Atticus returned a gracious bow of acknowledgment.
A buzz of renewed talking commenced.
Harper clinked her glass once more. “I’m not quite finished!
” When the room quieted again, she smiled.
“I told you we had a few toasts tonight.” She took a breath, composing herself.
“This has been and will continue to be such an amazing year. Epic. Of course, as we all know, in only a few months Taylor and I”—she looked at her fiancé—“and Carson and Blake”—she lifted her glass in their direction—“will celebrate our marriages. Then, come October, we’ll pop more champagne to celebrate the release of my first book. ”
Heartfelt applause and comments of congratulations were renewed, though most of them already knew this news.
“Finally . . .” Harper glanced again at Taylor, who stood beside her, chest out and beaming. He slipped his arm around her shoulders. “Taylor and I will be celebrating another release this fall.” She paused, then blurted out in a high-pitched voice, “We’re having a baby!”
Mamaw’s hand flew to her mouth to squelch her gasp of surprise.
Immediately she turned to Imogene to catch her reaction and found her gaping back at her in utter shock.
Clearly neither of them had been told. Both of them were relieved by that knowledge.
Immediately both women’s expressions shifted to reveal their unabashed joy.
They hurried to each other and clinked their glasses.
“Well, we are double blessed!” Mamaw exclaimed.
“You have no idea. The family line continues! There were days I wasn’t sure. Oh, Marietta, this certainly is a celebration!”
The two women embraced, then Imogene scurried to Harper’s side.
Mamaw stepped back into the corner to enjoy a moment of peace and watch as the spirit of the evening shot skyward at the happy news.
The evening would progress as it should, she was old enough to know.
The women would cluck like hens endlessly about weddings and babies.
The men about sports, mutual funds, and fishing as though no mention of a baby had been made.
And the children . . . She watched as Nate and Miller withdrew to the sofa, both with electronic games in hand.
She shook her head, amused. Typical, she thought.
Amid the clinking of glasses, the sound of Michael Bublé crooning in the background, the rise and fall of laughter, Mamaw slowly brought her champagne glass to her lips and thought to herself how comforting it was to see life carry on.
Tasting the golden sweetness, she could not have imagined a happier ending to this evening’s play.