Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
George
I have no idea what I did to deserve a woman like Madison. She’s my favorite face. My favorite smile. My favorite voice.
Besides my grandma and grandfather, Madison is my favorite person.
I thought I might faint when I got down on one knee and proposed to her among the daylilies. I knew deep down that if I ever got the chance to be with her again, I’d throw all my angst and isms to the side and ask her to be my forever.
My person.
My wife.
I’m in a daze of euphoria as I sit beside my grandfather’s bed, staring into space.
“Hi.” Pop’s voice comes out in a whisper, his gravelly tone getting softer and softer with the passing of each day.
“Hey.” I give him my undivided attention and hold his hand. “How are you feeling this morning?”
He opens his mouth but gives up saying anything, his strength depleted.
“Ralph had a rough night,” the nurse on duty explains as she reenters the bedroom with a refilled water bottle. “I just gave him his morphine, so hopefully, he’ll get some rest this morning.”
I know I don’t have much time before my grandfather dozes off. I lean closer to him and smile. I’m excited to tell him the news.
“I did it, Pop. I asked Madison to marry me.”
His eyebrows raise, and his lips turn into a half smile. “Atta boy.”
I lick my lips, my eyes filling with more happy tears.
What is it about proposals and wedding planning that has me so emotional?
I know that what I’m about to ask him might be impossible, but I decide to ask anyway.
I asked Madison to marry me, didn’t I? And that seemed impossible too, but I did it.
“Will you be my best man?”
The nurse nearly spills the water as she jerks her head and looks at me with confusion. I ignore her and continue my explanation to Pop.
“I already talked it over with Madison. We want you to be a part of our wedding. We’ll do it right here in your bedroom. Tomorrow. Do you think you can hang on until then? So you can see us get married?” I hold my breath as a deluge of tears sluices down my cheeks into my beard.
He closes his eyes and sighs. There is no mistaking the happy smile on his face now.
“Yes,” he whispers. “I wouldn’t miss it… for the world.”
***
The subsequent twenty-four hours are a whirlwind of activity. Madison and I decided to marry at three o’clock the next day. We know time is not on our side, and we throw ourselves into planning a simple ceremony with only a few invited guests.
Come to find out, Jenny’s sister, Janie from the Tipsy Daisy, has been ordained and agreed to facilitate our bedroom wedding ceremony.
The twins also insisted on catering a small spread for an intimate reception afterward, including celebratory champagne and a wedding cake—strawberry—in honor of Pop.
We quietly cleared a few pieces of antique furniture and medical supplies from his room and set up several folding chairs we borrowed from the Wild Daisy Inn.
We moved the hospital bed that was brought in a few weeks earlier against the wall, opening up the space to make room for a small seating area with a better vantage point for Pop.
Standing in my grandfather’s closet, I look for his black suit. I’ve never owned a suit. When my Grandma Rosie died, I borrowed his black jacket for her funeral.
I know I should wear a black suit on my wedding day.
It’s formal and what all the grooms wear, don’t they?
But I’m confused as to why men wear them at funerals too.
I suppose the bottom line is a suit makes a man look dapper, and it’s important to look your best on a special occasion, even when it’s sad.
A wedding is definitely an important event, and I don’t want to blow it with what I’m wearing.
I don’t think Madison would appreciate overalls and boots on our special day.
As I’m standing there drinking in the scent of cedar and my grandfather’s unmistakable musky cologne, I smile when I feel Madison’s arms wrap around my waist from behind.
“Did you find anything?” she whispers. Pop is sleeping steps away, and she keeps her voice low.
“I think so.” I bring her fingers up to my lips and kiss her skin. “I’ll have to wear my own black pants because I’m a lot taller than Pop. But these two jackets might work. I think I borrowed this one for Grandma Rosie’s funeral. What do you think?”
I turn around and show her the suit jackets I’d pulled from the hanging bar.
“Hmmm. I do like the black one. But will it be weird to wear it again on your wedding day after you wore it to your grandmother’s funeral?”
“No. It’s just a jacket.”
I slip it on over my shirt. She palms the lapels and looks up at me, her makeup-free face the most beautiful face I’ve ever laid eyes on.
“You look handsome. It suits you.”
“Thank you.”
“Even more handsome… if you shave the beard.”
I chuckle quietly. “Don’t worry. I’m planning on it. I want to look my best for you.”
“Yay!” She whispers excitedly, her eyes bright with approval. “Beverly is on her way.”
I blink at her three times, her sister’s name registering in my brain.
“She is?”
“Yes. She was already at school when I called her first thing. She told the principal she had a family emergency, and he quickly found someone to cover for her. Oh, George. I’m so happy Bev can be here for our wedding.”
We stand there in the closet, hugging one another.
I’ve never met Beverly, but from what Madison has told me, she’s a nice sister, and I’ll like her very much. I’ve often wondered what having a sister or brother would be like.
A thought crosses my mind, and I frown.
“Do you want children?” I blurt out.
Madison pulls back from me, her expression filled with surprise. “Wow. I didn’t see that coming.”
She helps me remove the jacket and puts it back on the hanger. I follow her out of the closet, and we tiptoe out of the bedroom.
Once we’re in the hallway, she quietly closes the bedroom door and hands me the hanger.
“Did I say something wrong?” I ask.
“No. No, George. I guess we should talk about this, shouldn’t we? I mean, we are getting married today. And most couples talk about these things before they tie the knot.”
“Tie the knot?” I’m confused again.
She loops her arm through mine and leads me to the living area. “Tie the knot means to get married. It’s an expression.”
“Oh.” I watch her sit on the sofa, and I stand there like an idiot, holding the hanging jacket. I’m not sure what to do.
“Hang your jacket on the door knob and join me on the couch.”
I’m relieved she’s giving me instructions. My mind has been a whirlwind of confusing thoughts and tasks with my regular routine out of whack. But for the most part, I think I’ve handled it well.
I sit next to Madison and grip my hands in my lap, unable to make eye contact with her as she speaks.
“I would like to have a child. Yes. But only if you want to.”
I mull over her words. She slips her hand into mine, and I stare at her bare finger to see where my grandma’s ring will go. Pop gave it to me when she passed away, telling me to save it for “the one.”
Happy memories my grandparents shared about my mother and father fill my mind. My mother’s name was Meredith, and from all the pictures and stories shared with me through the years, I know she loved me. Pop and Grandma Rosie told me how excited she was when she found out she was pregnant.
My father’s name was Tyler. Ty for short. Apparently, he was ecstatic when he learned his first child would be a boy.
I remember seeing a wedding photo of the two of them in an old album, Tyler’s big bow tie and Meredith’s long veil captivating my young mind. But I remember the sorrow too.
When I was old enough to understand, Pop gently explained how my mom died giving birth to me and how grief-stricken my dad was when he lost her. But the ultimate betrayal was learning my father blamed me for her death.
And then he abandoned me.
He left me parentless.
What kind of father does that to his only child? To his only son?
I never got to meet my father. Tyler died in a car accident, leaving my grandparents to raise me as their own. I’m proud to be Ralph and Rosie Jamison’s son. But oh, how I wish I could have known my birth parents before all of the sadness…
And being a parent—what does that even mean anyway? The concept is so foreign and polarizing to me. I equate my parents with death and sorrow. No wonder I don’t want to have any children.
I realize I’ve been tuning Madison out, her raised voice echoing in my ears as she holds my face. My eyes focus on hers, and I snap out of my daze.
“George?”
There’s a trace of fear in her voice. Great. I’ve scared her on our wedding day.
I exhale deeply and pull her hands off my face, embarrassed. “I’m fine. I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re not fine. What was that? Where did you go?”
I count silently to five before I look her in the eye. “My thoughts kind of took over.”
“What kind of thoughts? Are you getting cold feet?”
I frown and look down at my cowboy boots.
“Are you having second thoughts about marrying me?”
The way she’s looking at me fills me with disappointment, knowing I’ve caused her pain. I believe in my heart she’s the one. She needs to know, without a doubt, that she’s my person.
I dig deep and try to explain. “I want to marry you, Madison.”
Her shoulders relax, and she offers me a timid smile. “Good. Because I want to marry you too.”
“Thank you. It’s just that…”
“What?”
“I’m just not sure we should have a child.”
She nods. “We don’t have to discuss this now. Let’s concentrate on this amazing day ahead of us—”
I interrupt her, the horrible truth flying out of my mouth with no filter. “I don’t think we should have a child because… I don’t want it to turn out like me.”