Dead If I Do (30 page)

Sometimes I heard laughter. They seemed to be becoming friends.

Meanwhile, Sebastian often found work to do at the other end of the house when Parrish showed, although occasionally they’d have awkward moments if he happened to open the door.

I went to work during the days and had stress dreams about the wedding at night. There were no churches available on Solstice or any other night this close to Christmas. I couldn’t find a decent replacement band. Thanks to the holiday season, the bakery still hadn’t hired a new cake maker. We did, at least, manage to file our application for a license, and I heard from Jane that she could make the wedding after all.

If there would even be one.

Two days before Solstice, Sebastian found me sobbing in the bathroom.

“We don’t have a church,” I told him, when he put his arms around me and asked me what was the matter.

“We don’t need one,” Sebastian said. “I’ve got room here.”

A spark of hope stopped the flow of tears momentarily. “But we don’t have anyone to officiate,” I said.

“Someone in the coven can do a simple handfast,” he said. “We’ve got time to plan that.”

Suddenly, I knew what to do.

Eleventh Aspect: Sesqui-Quadrate

KEY WORDS:
Snag, Dilemma

On Winter Solstice, Wiccans traditionally light a bon
fire when the sun goes down and tend it until dawn. It’s representational magic; on the longest, darkest night of the year, we keep the light alive.

Seemed to me like a good metaphor for a marriage.

Plus, once I let go of an idea of what my marriage was supposed to be, everything fell into place. Turns out, William had one of those ministry degrees you can buy from the back of a matchbook. It was a simple matter to rent a tent for the backyard. Not a lot of call for those in the winter, especially when we agreed we’d set it up ourselves. It took some doing to shovel a spot, but everyone pitched in. The Unitarian minister even let us borrow a few folding chairs. Sebastian and I made a fire pit from bricks in the barn and set a huge pile of firewood nearby. I baked and frosted cupcakes to stand in for the wedding cake. My mother did the alterations to make my grandmother ’s dress fit, and it looked gorgeous. Plus it was way warmer than that tea-length thing I’d bought myself. White looked better than silver in the snow, anyway. To top off the outfit, I’d rush-ordered an absolutely fabulous ankle-length white coat with feather trim that made me look like the Winter Queen.

I found a hairstylist willing to work with my wreck of a haircut, a fluffy white hat, and pearl beads. Then I spent the day being pampered in ways I didn’t even know I needed: manicures, pedicures, facials, and makeup. Izzy, Marlena, Jane, and Mom came along for it all. We had a blast being girly and giggly for an entire day.

The night before, the coven did a spell to make sure the weather cooperated. At first, I thought maybe we were still cursed. But, as the day progressed, the clouds cleared. By nightfall, it had even warmed up at little —for a day in late December, at any rate.

When we got back to the farm, it looked like the circus had moved in. The tent was big and white. Sebastian had strung up every Christmas light he could buy and had made a path to the tent. My bridesmaids helped me get dressed upstairs in the bedroom. The house smelled of my father’s cooking.

I looked at myself in the full-length mirror. The pearled dress looked a little strange when combined with the crazy coat, hat, white gloves, and boots, but I thought it would do.

“You look great, girl,” Izzy said.

“So do you,” I said.

We all had matching hats and mittens, but otherwise I told them to wear whatever would keep them warm and make them happy. Lady Candice had knitted the mittens, despite the fact that I’d had to cancel the dress. Izzy had a retro-cut, bright red coat and white go-go boots, like a hip, black Mary Tyler Moore. Marlena wore a puffy white parka over a gorgeous ice blue, silk kimono that hugged her curves. Jane, who in the intervening years since we were friends in high school had come out as a lesbian, looked resplendent in a tux and tie to match the groomsmen. My mother would probably have a heart attack when she saw my motley crew sauntering down the aisle, but I thought we made an awesome-looking bunch. I couldn’t believe it was finally happening.

A knock on the door startled me. William poked his head in. “The sun is going down. Are you ready to start the fire?”

My dad met me at the bottom of the stairs. He looked handsome in his tux. He ’d even brushed out his ponytail for the occasion. “Wow, that’s quite a look,” he said of my feathers and pearls.

“I know. But you know what? It doesn’t matter what I’m wearing,” I said. “It’s all about who I’m with.”

“No, honey,” he said. “That’s not it. I think you look amazing.”

“Thanks, Dad,” I said, giving him a peck on the cheek.

“Argh,” Izzy teased. “Don’t muss up the makeup!”

My dad escorted me outside. The groomsmen met their counterparts at the door of the tent. Walter protested his disappointment at not getting to take William down the aisle, although he was satisfied that Jane made a fairly good substitution. The polka band began playing “The Wedding March.” I’d asked people to bring any instruments they might play, so friends joined in on guitar, drums, cymbals, and even flute. Sebastian waited at the far end of the tent, which we’d left open to the air. He smiled when he saw me. My heart leaped.

William stood in front of the makeshift fire pit in a tuxedo -kilt. He held two unlit torches. Behind him, the groomsmen had prepared the fire, Boy Scout-style, with layers of twigs and paper.

Once in front of the fire, Sebastian and I joined hands. Looking up into those chestnut eyes, the world faded away. This
was
the only thing that mattered.

William said something really poetic about love and how it ’s like the sun’s light on a cold day, but I barely heard it. I only remember trying not to set my heirloom dress on fire once the torches were lit and Sebastian and I used them to start the bonfire. They must have had lighter fluid on the woodpile, because it went up easily. Both Sebastian and I had to jump back with a laugh to avoid being singed. Then William wound a silk ribbon around my wrist and then around Sebastian’s for the traditional handfast. Sebastian produced rings from his pocket: a garnet surrounded by diamonds for me, and a simple garnet embedded in gold for him.

I told him I’d love him forever in front of all my friends and family, and I meant it. When he said the same to me, I cried.

The tent flap at the back parted, letting in a blast of cold air. I looked up and saw Teréza’s pale face. She had a white-knuckle grip on Parrish’s arm. I held my breath. I could feel Sebastian ’s muscles tighten. Mátyás said something that sounded like an epithet in another language. William stumbled over his words and stuttered to a halt. People started to turn to see what we were all staring at. But Parrish simply nodded an encouraging acknowledgment and steered Teréza toward seats in the back.

We let go of our collective breath. William finished by saying the traditional phrase: “I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

Sebastian and I kissed. My mother sobbed. Somehow, it was perfect.

At some point, the license got signed and the party
got under way. We drank home-brewed mead that Griffin brought. We handed out cupcakes, and my father kept a steady stream of appetizers rolling out from the kitchen. We cleared away the chairs and danced. The polka band played “Roll Out the Barrel,” and an Austrian waltz for Sebastian. My other friends made an impromptu drum circle, and someone brought bagpipes.

I was twirling to something with a Mediterranean beat when Parrish cut in. “May I have this dance?” he asked. I looked over at Sebastian. Teréza stood in front of him, offering her own hand. Sebastian and I shared a look that said, “Why not?”

“Of course,” I said to Parrish.

He twirled me into his arms. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Sebastian tenderly take Teréza. She was clear-eyed but wobbly on her feet. “Is she okay?” I asked Parrish.

He looked over my head at where she and Sebastian waltzed slowly, despite the more frenzied beat. “She’ll sleep for a week after this, but she didn’t want to miss it.”

“Is she angry, do you think?”

Parrish glanced down at me. “Sad,” he said. “Like me.”

“Oh, Parrish. Daniel,” I said, using his Christian name. “You know I’ll always—”

Putting a finger to my lip, he stopped me. “I know. I’ll always love you too. But . . .” He took a deep breath. I held mine. I’d never heard a “but” from Parrish before. “But I’d like my ring back.”

“The wedding ring,” I said, remembering the one I kept in the bottom of my jewelry box. I frowned a little. I treasured that gift from him, but I could understand it. He had just seen me pledge my life to someone else. “Of course you can have it.”

He smiled sadly, his gaze straying to Teréza again. “I thought I’d never have need of it again, but I think perhaps someday I might.”

When he twirled me around, I caught sight of Teréza, who glanced at Parrish and smiled. “Parrish,” I said, giving him a little nudge in the ribs as a tease. “Are you falling for Teréza?” Then I scanned the room to make sure that Izzy and Mátyás weren’t nearby. “Don’t let Mátyás find out.”

“Oh, I think he knows.” Parrish smiled.

“Do I say congratulations?” I asked.

“Not yet,” Parrish said. “I must woo my lady when she’s fully functional. That may not be for decades yet.”

“Decades? You’re going to wait that long?”

“I pledged myself to be her guardian, did I not?”

I stared at him with a strange mixture of pride, jealousy, and desire. “I do love you,” I said. “You’re the most loyal man I’ve ever met.”

“And to think I was but a robber on the king’s highway.”

“You’re so much more than that, Daniel Parrish,” I said.

He gave me a crooked smile. “Don’t tell anyone else. You’ll ruin my reputation.”

With a kiss, he left me. Teréza had begun to weaken, and he quickly helped Sebastian get her to a seat. When Sebastian and I reunited, I told him about my conversation with Parrish. Sebastian nodded. “I said good-bye too,” he told me. “I think my heart would be broken if this wasn’t my wedding day to you.”

I gave him a deep, loving kiss. “I understand,” I said. “I love you too.”

I drifted back toward where Sebastian was being con
gratulated by my aunt Irma and uncle Chet, who’d driven up from Arizona in their trailer. They had a house in a small town in central Wisconsin, but they wintered in the sunny South as snowbirds. As I looped my arm around Sebastian, Chet was inviting him to come out cow tipping sometime. Now I knew my family had accepted Sebastian. They were going to haze him with the old cow tipping ruse. I was just about to leap to Sebastian’s rescue, when he smiled knowingly and said, “Sure, and while we’re out, maybe we could hunt a few snipe.”

We all laughed. Even though it was nothing like I’d planned, it was the most perfect day of my life.
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