Page 81 of Home Body
Thunder rumbling in the distance roared toward them, more threatening by the second. The preacher waved his hand above his head and hollered. “Settle down folks! Let’s get this show on the road!”
People gathered on either side of a natural aisle, and there at the end of the aisle stood the object of Dalia’s love and desire. Brody awaited, looking debonaire as a prince. As best woman – Dalia refused to have a “maid” of honor – Kenyon prompted Rose to do as they’d practiced. The flower girl, with her assistant Rover at her side, did her duty throwing rose petals and going to sit with her Grammy. Kenyon, carrying a fat bouquet of roses from the garden, walked assuredly to the front, no hesitant stop-stepping for her.
A collective gasp of pleasure went up when a fiddler began to play the bridal song. Dalia hadn’t expected that, no one had, and it was a magnificent, spontaneous addition to the ceremony.
She couldn’t take her eyes off Brody the entire time she walked to him with his glistening eyes and brilliant smile. She handed her bouquet to Kenyon and took her intended’s hands in hers, holding on for dear life. During the exchange of vows pelting rain deafened their words, howling wind rattled the roof, lightning flashed through slits in the walls, and claps of thunder shook them to their bones. But nothing could distract the bride and groom. Not even Shelda the sheep, who came to Dalia’s side and baaed for attention.
When an ear-splitting boom of thunder followed the preacher’s pronouncement that they were now husband and wife, Dalia thrust her arms into the air, Brody picked her up off her feet and spun her around, and they kissed the kiss of the besotted lovers they were.
The fiddler took up a jaunty jig and everyone joined in on the “first dance.” Food came out of coolers and a team with umbrellas managed to get the cakes over from the kitchen, leaving the wedding cake in the shape of the Leaning Tower of Pisa. The wedding reception took on the air of one in medieval days with the mingling of townsfolk and animals and children,and beer and wine freely flowing. Dalia had no idea where the booze came from and didn’t ask.
When she met Kenyon’s beau, Bart the Bartender, she delighted in her friend’s giddy happiness. He seemed like a nice guy.
Dalia had fun watching them and everyone else dance. Vic and Margaret cut a rug, Llayne and Mack boogied with Rose, Zach found a teenaged girl to swirl, Inez coaxed Saul into a waltz, Brogan’s older brother danced with his wife, his other brother rallied with Jessa, and Prissy bounced from couple to couple, dancing with everyone. Dolly entertained the crowd with her professional flare, coaxing her cousin Mamie to mimic her moves. As long as the fiddler played, wedding guests celebrated. The barn warmed in the humidity of the rain causing skin to glisten and buttons to be loosened, but no one cared.
It was when the bride was introduced to her husband’s family the proverbial shit hit the fan. His mother retorted, “So, you’re the one who stole our boy away to live on a farm out in the sticks.” Brody’s brothers, who called him Bro-Bro, jauntily squired their churlish matriarch away.
Dalia cast that unpleasantness aside, however, not willing to let anyone, not even her new mother-in-law, ruin her thrilling day. When the fiddler played George Straight’sI Cross My Heart,the crowd melted away and let the bride and groom have center stage for a romantic dance alone. Silence unexpectedly fell over the din in awe of the newlyweds’ obvious devotion to one another.
Eventually, when they heard the storm die away, someone thrust open both sides of the giant barn doors allowing in a burst of fresh air. Steamy sunbeams streamed into the barn, bathing them in warm, damp light.
A boy outside shouted. “Look!”
They gathered outside to be awestruck by a glimmering two-tiered rainbow arching over the farm. “It’s a sign of good luck for the couple!” someone shouted, which inspired a lively cheer.
“We don’t need to look for the pot of gold,” Brody declared, his arm around his wife.
“We’ve already found it, right here.” Dalia lifted her face to her husband’s as they shared a knowing gaze.
The fiddler lifted his fiddle, and uplifting strains ofOver the Rainbowwafted through the air.
CHAPTER 48
The newlyweds lay in bed in what had been Dalia’s room and was now their room. She cuddled in her husband’s arms as they relived the day, marveling at what a perfect wedding it’d been despite the deluge.
“We already know our marriage can weather any storm.” Brody kissed his wife’s forehead.
“And you’re the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.”
“Aw, that’s sweet. But, believe me, I feel like the lucky one.”
“We’re both lucky.”
“That we are. And you know what? As bizarre as our wedding was, that was the most fun wedding I’ve ever attended. I think everybody had a ball. Nobody will ever forget it, I bet.”
“I agree. You know what else?” He shook his head, not venturing a guess. “We discovered we can accommodate half the county in our barn anytime we want.”
“Think we’ll ever want to do that again?”
“Well, the whole thing got me thinking.” She sat up, gesturing as she talked. “What if in the summertime on Saturday nights we hosted a dance? Square dancing and western dancing. We could alternate weekends. There are local bands, we already have a fiddler, and we have the space.”
“Whoa. I love to dance to old-time rock and roll and country.” He chuckled. “I’ve never square danced.”
“That’s okay. I’ll teach you. It’s easy to learn and everybody can do it. Mama and Poppa used to take me with them to their square dance club in Dexter. I love to dance, and this is far more my style than what you saw when you first met me.”
“I knew that wasn’t the real you up there on that stage.”
“That’s because you’re a very smart man, unlike most of the bozos in that place.” She tapped a finger on his forehead. “We could give lessons the first half hour and have an hour and a half of dancing, with a break in the middle.”
