In My Father's Eyes (15 page)

“Right.” Emily nodded resolutely, swallowing hard.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Colin asked, the backs of his fingers stroking her cheek.

Emily shook her head, not trusting her voice. Swallowing again, she pulled at the latch and stepped from the truck. Her boots sinking in the pine needles covering the clearing.

Glancing up at the wooden steps leading to the house, she moved right, heading down the path toward the back. If he knew she was coming, she knew where she would find him.

Before she knew it, the path tracing through the bushes alongside the house ended; she remembered it being longer. The back lawn rolled downhill in a series of tiers to the lake. The evening December sun glinted off wavelets as the water rippled quietly from the east.

The old wooden pier, planks bleached white by the weather and the sun, stretched twenty yards out onto the lake; the short side dock empty of the ski boat that used to sit there, the swimming platform gone.

Outlined by the lowering sun, he sat; his back to her, his eyes staring out at the peaceful winter lake, his legs hanging over the water. Emily’s boots thunked on the pier, rattling planks with nails loosened through freezing weather. She hugged her sweater around her, coming to a stop a yard from end of the pier.

“Dad.”

With a graceful motion, her father rose and turned to his daughter. His eyes taking her in all at once.

“Em.”

Chapter Sixteen

The church pews were filled with colleagues and students, administrators and staff, friends and family. Garlands of white roses hung from the ends of the pews, overflowing the urns beside the altar, scenting the air with their heady fragrance.

Tuxedoed ushers chaperoned guests to their seats with quiet dignity broken by the boisterous laughter of children dressed in their Sunday best scampering around, dodging the hands and warning looks of parents as they chased in and out of the rows.

Carol, wearing a pale peach gown, swept into the dressing room towing Caroline Connors along with her.

Emily caught site of them in the mirror. Betsy, her Maid of Honor, clucked at her. “Sit still, Emily. I’m never going to get this veil on if you keep fidgeting.”

She’d met Betsy at the University four years ago, when, with Colin’s encouragement, she’d enrolled in art classes. For once, she’d found someone she could relate to, could share her thoughts with; from their first day in class, they’d grown into close friends and Betsy was the only choice when it had come time to choose a Maid of Honor.

Colin had insisted, once it became plain to both of them what was going on, that he wouldn’t marry her until she graduated. Emily didn’t think that was fair and accused him of blackmailing her.

He only laughed, disagreed, and claimed it was extortion and was perfectly fair.

Whatever it was, Emily had no choice but to agree to his conditions seeing as how he wasn’t going to let her off the hook.

Emily made a face at Betsy that had the shorter blond girl laughing. “You make that face at Colin and he’s going to think twice about marrying you,” Betsy assured.

“Oh, you look so beautiful,” Caroline crooned, fluffing the dark curls rolling across Emily’s shoulders.

Colin’s adoptive mother was nearing eighty, but was still spry and energetic, moving with the nervous energy of a small bird. Emily had fallen immediately in love with the older woman who exuded kindness and comfort in everything she did. She’d also fallen in love with northern California when Colin had taken her there for an extended vacation two years ago.

Together they’d planned to move out there after the honeymoon. Colin had finished his graduate program a year ago; turning his teaching assistant position into an associate professorship while Emily finished her undergraduate degree in Graphic Arts. Emily was happy that they’d be able to live with Caroline in her big house.

“Everyone’s ready when you are.” Carol said, standing behind her, staring at her daughter in the mirror. “My baby,” she squeaked, her hand going to her mouth.

“Mom!” Emily laughed. “Don’t you start or you’re going to make me start and Betsy will blame us both for ruining our makeup.” Carol turned away shaking her head, dabbing at the corner of her eye with the lace handkerchief she’d bought for the occasion.

“Okay, okay,” Carol sighed. “I just can’t help it. Mother’s cry at weddings, you know.”

“Well…save it for later,” Emily sighed and stood up. In her heels, she towered over the three women fussing around her, arranging the train of her wedding gown. “Is Colin ready?” Emily asked Caroline.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so eager about anything.” Caroline laughed, “If you aren’t quick about it, he might just come drag you down the aisle by your hair.”

“Hah!” Emily grunted. “I’ve been trying to get him to do that for two years. I don’t know why I put up with him.”

Betsy grinned, “I do.”

“You just hush,” Emily warned, laughing. “Let’s get this over with,” she added.

“Give us a minute to get in place,” Carol said, hugging her daughter. “I love you,” she whispered.

Emily felt her throat tighten, managing to whisper back, “I love you, too, Mom.”

The door closed behind the two women, leaving Emily and Betsy alone again. Emily’s hand went to the small cross at her throat as she followed Betsy.

“Don’t forget your bouquet,” Betsy advised, shoving the spray of flowers into Emily’s shaking hand. A knock on the door alerted Emily that all was ready. She took a deep breath.

“Shall we, Em,” her father asked.

With her heels on, her eyes met his on a level. Deep grey, shining with emotion, he looked back at her. Four years ago she’d met her father again, for the first time. He’d looked at her there, on the pier, with those same grey eyes; eyes that asked for forgiveness, that begged for understand, that offered the unconditional love she’d yearned for so long to have from him.

In that moment looking at him, seeing him, she’d understood what it was Harold had been trying to tell her. Second chances are rare and special things, and when they come, you have to be ready to accept them, to embrace them, to have faith that with God’s grace your fear and guilt and shame is forgiven. You have to let go of everything and take a leap of faith.

Love is an ability.

“Let’s do it.”

He held out his elbow, Emily took it, laying her palm on his wrist. He smelled of pine and smoky wood and Emily laid her cheek on his shoulder briefly.

Betsy, with a last kiss, proceeded before them down the rich, red carpet, arriving at the entrance where Colin’s best man waited to escort her down the aisle.

Emily watched Betsy and Len, Colin’s best man, walk away sedately to the orchestral music piping over the church’s sound system.

Then, as heads turned to watch her, Emily felt herself floating down the aisle on her father’s arm. His hand a steadying comfort as attention focused on her. Emily felt her stomach flip and swallowed.

Colin stood, looking at her, tall and handsome in his tails. Her eyes caught his and everything and everyone faded into the background as she approached. Soon, she felt her father stop. She turned letting him lift her veil, his kiss on her cheek a feathery touch.

Descending the steps, Colin took her hand in his and led her upward, stopping before the minister. Over the last few years, the man who had presided over Harold’s service had become a good friend of Colin’s, and, eventually, Emily’s as she joined Colin at the Church.

It only seemed natural that, having seen the ending of one life, he be there at the beginning of theirs. On the altar, surrounded by sprays of roses and baby’s breath, the silver framed portrait of Lydia and Harold on their wedding day so long ago, stared out at Emily and Colin.

Next to it, the enlarged image of two little girls in Easter dresses, smiling and gap-toothed, one grown into a new bride; the other, the eternal beauty of youth.

“We are gathered here today…” the minister began.

Love is an ability. It is sacrifice and honesty; pain and loss. It is forgiving the unforgiveable, accepting the unendurable. It is faith that life goes on; the belief that, when needed, the ones we love will save us…even from ourselves…and never count the cost.

I would do it again, Emily.

That’s what big sisters are for.

~~The End~~