Operation Mail-Order Bride (3 page)

“A new book about the Johnson Administration.”

“Andrew?”

“Lyndon.”

“Ah. Vietnam.”

Blair grimaced. “In part. I’m more interested in the administration’s internal office politics at the moment. It’s an angle I’m thinking about for my thesis.”

“I’d like to hear about it.”

“Oh, it’s rather complicated….”

Rose appeared, agitated and evidently needing to vent.

“I wish with all my heart that I had ignored my mother and aunts and asked you to be my Maid of Honor, Cassie!” Her voice was low but forceful, and she glanced furtively around to make sure no one could overhear before she continued. “Grace is such a pill. I can’t believe she’s bringing this up now….”

“Rose, whatever she’s doing, is it worth marring the happiness of your wedding day?”

Rose closed her mouth on whatever was about to come out and stared at nothing above my head for a moment.

“No,” she answered. I could tell she was still not happy.

“Rise above it, Rose. You’re in control. You can afford to be generous.”

That got to her. She met my eyes, nodded slightly, and began to smile. “Thank you.” She addressed Blair: “Now you know why she’s my best friend.” She departed as suddenly as she had appeared.

“Not really,” Blair stated. “I have no idea what that exchange was about.”

“If the problem had been important, we would have heard all about it regardless of what I said. That was one of those times when Rose needed to be reminded not to ‘sweat the small stuff.’ Knowing Grace, it was probably about shoes or hair.”

Now that the prospective bride and groom were in the room, the other guests streamed in and a
mêlée
of place card reading and chair scooting was taking place. At the same time, the restaurant staff were moving among the tables with baskets of bread and platters of
hors d’oeuvres.

“What’s on the menu, Cassie? Do you know?” Blair was eyeing the food.

“I heard something about quiche. Salad. Seasonal fruits. They wanted it to be light, since it’s evening and everyone has a big day tomorrow.” I studied him, concerned. “You’re not one of those men who won’t eat quiche, are you?”

He laughed. “No, I like quiche, if it’s made well.”

“No need to worry. This restaurant is famous for it.”

I was right about the menu, and everything was delicious. I could tell Blair was enjoying the meal: he accepted seconds on everything.

“I didn’t expect this town to be this cosmopolitan,” he told me while we waited for dessert. “Every time I heard from Trent, he mentioned the weather and it was always awful. I guess I got the impression restaurants here would serve nothing but potatoes, sauerkraut and sausages.”

“You forgot beer.”

“What? Oh yes, that would be the natural accompaniment, wouldn’t it?”

“It’s another product we’re famous for. I’m glad we exceeded your expectations. I wasn’t aware Trent was so homesick for the blue skies of New Mexico. This really is a great place to live if you can tolerate the winters. There’s lots to do.”

“Like what?” He sat back, cradling his coffee cup. “You seem to spend so much time working I’m surprised you manage much of a social life.”

Was this criticism of my lifestyle? So soon? I dismissed the doubt and pl
unged into my role as civic booster.

“We have a world-renowned symphony, an opera company, several good theaters…”

“Movie?” he smirked.

“Legitimate!”

“Community theaters, then.”

“No, although we have those, too. Real Broadway stars and directors work here. Sometimes they try out new plays here before they take them to New York.”

He didn’t say anything, but I could tell he was impressed. I went on. “We have a great zoo, several good museums, and no end of small clubs and coffeehouses where you can hear live jazz or folk music, or even poetry.” I thought for a minute. “You’re staying in Trent’s apartment for the weekend, right?” He nodded. “Tomorrow night, after the wedding, there’s a free symphony concert in Avalon Park, if you’d like to go with me.”

“Are you asking me out, Miss Jacobs?” Blair teased.

“I guess I am, Mr. Hutchinson. What do you say?”

“Let’s go. It sounds fun.”

The wedding day was blessed with near-perfect weather. I couldn’t help but admire myself as I waited in my apartment foyer for Blair and Trent. My hair was a perfect length, thanks to good planning, and the dress—well, it was one of the most attractive I had ever worn. It enhanced my figure and the color brought out the red in my hair. I stepped outside when I saw Trent’s car turn the corner and head my way, and I was treated to the sight of two attractive young men’s delighted smiles as they watched me descend the steps and approach the car. Blair got out of the driver’s seat and held the back door as I climbed in.

“You look gorgeous, Cassie!”

I looked him up and down. The suit was the same dark grey he wore to the rehearsal dinner, but it hung on him better today. His ice-white shirt was flawless and it was accompanied by a truly beautiful tie whose colors complimented that of my dress.

“I like your tie, Blair,” I told him as he slid back into the front seat and fastened his belt. His eyes met mine in the rear view mirror and I saw desire in them for the first time. I felt myself blush.

“I didn’t know you were going the white dinner jacket route, Trent. I love that look on a man. Rose will be so pleased!”

“I’m glad you think so, Cassie. She doesn’t know yet.”

“It’s a good choice. Not many grooms do it now, but I think it will make you look even more like part of a pair. You’ll stand out compared to the other men. What color are the groom’s men wearing?”

“Light grey.”

“Classic.” I relaxed and happily visualized the finery of the upcoming ceremony as Trent directed Blair to the church.

While Blair helped Trent with his garment bags, I slipped away to check on the bride and her attendants. After I gave my friend one last hug as a single woman, I returned to my escort. Blair was standing outside the narthex with several guests who were smoking before entering the church. He seemed glad to see me.

“You seem so carefree and well-put-together,” he said. “How’s the bridal party?”

“On their way. I lent a hand repairing a torn hem, and when I left they seemed ready to go. I hope you weren’t bored waiting for me.”

“Not at all. I’ve been eavesdropping on good conversations.”

“Are Trent and the men okay?”

“I believe so.” He chuckled. “He seems to be in a light trance.”

The sanctuary filled quickly as the music began. Cecilia moved up the aisle like a monarch in procession, granting a warm smile to me and a nod to Blair as the usher wheeled her past. Soon after she took her place on the aisle next to Rose’s mother, the wedding march began. Trent and the Best Man emerged from a door near the altar as Mrs. Schuyler rose. We all followed suit and watched as first the bridesmaids, then Rose, walked slowly up the aisle,
each one a lovely vision of shining hair and bright eyes. Their faces glowed with excitement.

The wedding ceremony was brief, as most Protestant weddings are, and only one unusual event occurred.

While the minister was leading the couple through their vows, line by line, I heard Rose’s voice break. I strained to watch her more closely and saw that her shoulders were shaking. When I realized that she was sobbing with emotion I felt tears start in my own eyes. At the same instant, I heard a sharp intake of breath from Blair as he made an involuntary movement. He seemed so agitated I thought he was going to say something. To my relief, he didn’t.

Outside, Rose’s red-rimmed eyes and melting mascara told the story.

“I feel a bit of a fool, Cassie,” she murmured as I embraced her.

“For being this happy? Phoo! You’re not the first bride to cry at her own wedding.” I found my fresh, “special-occasion” handkerchief in my purse and blotted the mascara away with what was left of her tears.

“I’m so glad you could be part of this perfect day, Cassie,” she told me, a quiver in her voice.

“So am I.” I squeezed her hand and moved away.

The festivities continued as we all converged on the reception hall. We ate and toasted the new Mr. and Mrs. Mayhew. I found that Blair was a skillful ballroom dancer, though he claimed not to enjoy it. “My mom insisted I learn,” was his sour response when I complimented him. No matter. It was so unusual to find a heterosexual man who could dance at all that I felt lucky.

When we gave Trent and Rose their sendoff, I failed to catch the bouquet. I shrugged it off as a silly superstition as I returned to my seat.

“What time does the concert begin, Cassie?” Blair asked.

“Eight.”

“We’ve plenty of time, then. What do you want to do about supper?”

I turned to him. “I was thinking….”

“Uh-oh!” He looked dismayed.

“Ha! Anyway, with all the party food we’ve eaten the past two days, would you like to do something really simple? I can put together a little picnic and we can drive to the park early and eat there. The park is worth getting to in daylight. It’s famous for its scenic overlook of the river and the city.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” he nodded. “You
can
cook, right?”

“I may surprise you, Blair Hutchinson.”

He dropped me at the door to my building and I raced upstairs to shower and assemble a portable feast.

When he returned, I was waiting in the foyer again, the softside cooler heavy on my shoulder.

“You continue to amaze me,” Blair stated as he met me on the steps and took the heavy cooler.

“With my strong back?” I laughed.

“That’s not what I meant, although….” He hefted our picnic supper. “I’ve never dated a woman before who didn’t make me wait. Yet here you are, twice in one day, waiting when I arrive and looking as if you just stepped out of a magazine.”

“Thank you for the compliment, Blair. I don’t like to have my time wasted, so I try not to waste that of others.”

“You seem very efficient.”

“I’ve learned to be, living on my own and supporting myself. I guess I just can’t afford to be flaky.”

I took the wheel of our borrowed car and wended our way through the old residential districts that circled the city. By the time we reached Avalon Park, Blair was at a loss for words.

“What a lovely place!” he cried. “I’ve done a little travelling, and your town … I’m very glad I came, Cassie.”

I parked near the amphitheater, but far away enough that we could avoid traffic snarls after the concert. As we got the cooler out and I pointed the way to the overlook, Blair caught my hand and kissed it. I was charmed. I’d had my hand kissed before, but when he did it, I felt as if he was honoring me, in a way that a kiss on the lips would not have done. We held hands as we walked up the path to the small picnic area overlooking the river.

We had the place to ourselves, so we got the table with the best view. Blair moved to the low stone wall above the riverbank and gazed transfixed as I spread a cloth and unpacked our meal.

“Any sailboats?” I called.

He searched the sweeping curve of the water before he answered. “No. Should there be?”

“Probably not. It’s getting late for a sail.”

He turned back to watch the river. “It always moves me to see this—this abundance of water. Eastern rivers are so … full.”

I looked at the vista, wondering why he marveled so. “Well, yes. They’re rivers.”

He turned to face me then, with a little smile. “You’ve never traveled out West, have you?”

“No. Why?”

“When you do, you’ll understand why your river impresses me.” He glanced at the table and his face lit gratifyingly. “I’m beginning to think you’re a genius, Cassie. You seem to be able to read my mind!” He picked up a homemade burrito and smiled at it and me as he aimed it at his mouth.

The cooler was nearly empty when he brought up Rose’s near-breakdown while taking her wedding vows.

“I was shocked. I thought she was laughing—laughing while speaking her vow to love Trent for the rest of her life!”