Consuelo had already left for Newport in June, and Annabelle joined her there in mid-July. Josiah came up, to stay in his own house, at the end of the month. Henry Orson came with him, to lend moral support to the groom, who seemed to be doing fine. And he was going to stay in Josiah’s house when they were on their honeymoon. Josiah had taken an additional three weeks of holiday this year, for their honeymoon. The bank was understanding about it, particularly since Annabelle was the bride.
Annabelle had come to love Josiah’s friend Henry. He was smart, witty, kind, and a little shy. She was constantly trying to decide which of her young female friends to introduce him to. She had already introduced him to several and he admitted to liking two of them, though nothing serious had come of it yet, but Annabelle was hopeful. And when he and Josiah got together, they were funny and quick, and the sparks of their repartee flew. Henry had always been extremely nice to her. He was to Josiah what Hortie was to her, his oldest friend from school. And Annabelle admired him immensely.
Hortie had settled in Newport for the summer by then, in her parents’ house, and James was there with her. They were almost sure they would have the baby there, and she came over to visit Annabelle every day. And Annabelle helped her mother whenever she could. But Consuelo insisted she had everything in control. Annabelle had brought her wedding dress up with her. There were more parties for them in Newport. And the Astors gave an enormous dance for them. Consuelo complained that she had never had so many late nights in her life, but she enjoyed them all.
The number of guests for the wedding had already slipped over the hundred mark, and was hovering at one twenty. Every time someone gave a party for them, they had to be added to the list. But the young couple was visibly having a ball. Josiah commented to her dryly at lunch one day, when he had come over with Henry for a picnic, that if he’d known getting married was so much fun, he’d have done it years before.
“It’s a good thing you didn’t,” Annabelle reminded him, “because then you wouldn’t be marrying me.”
“You have a point,” he chuckled, as Hortie arrived. She was waddling now, and every time Annabelle saw her, she couldn’t help laughing at her. It was hard to believe that in the next month she’d get any bigger than she was. She looked like she was about to explode. It took both Josiah and Henry to help her sit on the lawn, and even more effort and nearly a crane to get her back up.
“This isn’t funny,” she said, as all three of them laughed at her. “I haven’t seen my feet in months.” She looked and insisted that she felt like an elephant.
“What are you wearing to the wedding?” Annabelle asked her with a look of concern. She couldn’t imagine a dress big enough for her by then.
“My bedspread, I think. Or the tent.”
“Seriously, do you have anything you can fit in? You’re not getting off the hook.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be there,” she reassured her. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” She had actually had her mother’s dressmaker make something for her. It was a giant, pale blue tent, and she’d had shoes made to match. It wasn’t exactly a matron of honor’s dress, but it was all she’d be able to wear. She hated it, but it was all she had.
Consuelo had had a dress made in emerald green with a matching hat, and she was planning to wear the emeralds Arthur had given her. It was a beautiful color on her, and Annabelle knew she would look lovely as the mother of the bride.
Finally the big day arrived. Josiah’s father and stepmother had driven down from Boston, with Josiah’s half- sister and her husband and their baby. Annabelle liked them all. And the rehearsal dinner was fine. Consuelo got along with Josiah’s family, and she had them to lunch the day before the wedding. Both families were thrilled with the match. It was the union of two highly respected families, and two people whom everyone loved. And as Josiah had predicted, his oddball brother, George, who lived in Chicago had decided not to come. He was playing in a golf tournament instead. It was just the way he was, and Josiah’s feelings weren’t hurt. He would have been too much trouble if he had come, so his absence was a relief. His family had never been as normal, well balanced, and cohesive as Annabelle’s had been. And his stepmother got on his nerves. She had a high squeaky voice, and complained every chance she got.
Consuelo had brunch with Josiah’s relatives the morning of the wedding, without either the bride or groom. Out of superstition, Annabelle didn’t want to see Josiah before the wedding, and he and Henry were relaxing at his house, and trying to keep cool. It was a blistering hot day, and Consuelo was worried that the flowers would wilt and the wedding cake would melt before the ceremony even began. The service in the garden was planned for seven o’clock that night, and they were sitting down to dinner at nine. There was no doubt in everyone’s mind that the party would go late.
There were a hundred and forty people coming finally, almost equally divided between the bride and groom. And Henry Orson, of course, was going to be the best man.
Hortie was the matron of honor, and if she didn’t have the baby before the wedding, she looked as though she could. She’d admitted to Annabelle, just to warn her, that she’d been having contractions for two days, and she was praying that her water wouldn’t break at the altar. It was bad enough, she said, just looking the way she did. She knew that everyone would be horrified to see her at the wedding, and would probably find it shocking. But she couldn’t let her best friend down. Annabelle had told her that it was sad enough not having her father or brother there, so Hortie couldn’t be absent too.
Blanche had come to Newport with them to be at the wedding. She was bustling around Annabelle’s bedroom in the afternoon, and fussing over her like a baby. And when the time came, she and Consuelo helped her into her wedding dress and did up the tiny buttons. The cinched-in waist and narrow gown were exquisite on her. And with a sharp intake of breath, Consuelo set the headpiece on Annabelle’s blond hair and settled the cloud of veil around her. Both women stood back to look at her, as tears rolled down their cheeks. Without question, Annabelle was the most beautiful bride they’d ever seen.
“Oh my God,” Consuelo whispered, as Annabelle beamed at them. “You look incredible.” Annabelle was the happiest woman alive, and she could hardly wait for Josiah to see her. And they all wished that her father had been there. Consuelo knew that he would have had a lump in his throat the size of a fist, walking her down the aisle. Annabelle had always been his pride and joy.
The two women helped her down the stairs, carrying her long train. Then one of the maids handed her the enormous bouquet of lily of the valley, and with that, Annabelle, her mother, and Blanche slipped out a side door. Blanche went to warn the ushers that she was coming. The guests were in their places, Josiah and Henry were at the altar, Hortie was beside them, looking like a gigantic pale blue balloon. There had been several gasps when the dowagers of Newport saw her. But everyone also knew that it was an unusual wedding. The groom was nearly twenty years older than the bride, had never been married, and the family had been struck by tragedy barely more than a year before. Some allowances had to be made.
Consuelo stood for a last moment in the side garden, looking lovingly down at her daughter, and then took her in her arms and held her.
“Be happy, my darling… Daddy and I love you so much,” and then, with tears streaming down her face, she rushed to take her place in the front row of chairs that had been set up in the main garden for the wedding service.
All hundred and forty people were there, and as soon as Consuelo took her place, the musicians began playing the Bridal Chorus from
All the wedding guests stood up at a signal from the minister, and all heads turned. The tension was enormous, as slowly and solemnly, the exquisite bride crossed the length of the garden in measured steps, alone. There was no one at her side, no one to lead her there, protect her, or hand her over to the man she was to marry. She was coming to him proudly, and quietly, with total certainty and dignity, on her own. Since there was no one to give her to Josiah, she was giving herself to him, with her mother’s blessing.
There was a sharp intake of breath as they saw her, and the force of the tragedy that had impacted them hit the guests as well as they saw the tiny, lovely bride gliding toward them, with the huge bouquet of lily of the valley in her hands, and her face covered by the veil.
She stood before Josiah and the minister, as Henry and Hortie stepped aside. The bride and groom stood looking at each other through her veil, and he gently took her hand. She had been very brave.
