1022 Evergreen Place - Debbie Macomber [123]
The church had agreed to let Mack and Mary Jo use the Fellowship Hall following the wedding for their reception. Mack would have liked the waterfront gazebo, but that had been reserved months earlier by another couple, as was nearly every other facility in town. When Pastor Flemming had offered them the Fellowship Hall, it had been a big relief to his mother, who’d been working diligently on the problem.
“Why is Charlotte Rhodes helping Mom with the reception?” he asked.
His father gave him an odd look. “She baked the wedding cakes.”
Mack remembered that now—or at least the part about Charlotte doing the baking. She was justly famous for her culinary skills. “Cakes, as in more than one?” If he distracted himself with details, he might actually get through this wedding without making an idiot of himself.
“Apparently you and Mary Jo are going to have one big cake and three smaller ones.”
“We are?” Mack didn’t recall that. “Why?”
“Don’t know. That’s what your mother told me.”
Mack had only a vague recollection of their long discussions about the flowers and cake and a dozen other matters. Mack had left most of it to his mother, Mary Jo and Lori. He didn’t have the patience for that sort of thing. He guessed few men did.
As it was, he found wearing this tuxedo downright uncomfortable. The last time he’d worn a suit had been for his grandfather’s funeral and that was… He’d lost count of the years.
A tuxedo. Him? Mary Jo and Lori had said he should rent one. He’d gone along with it, thinking he didn’t really have a choice. Only when he and Linc had gone for the fitting had he figured out otherwise. His brother-in-law had complained at great length, but by then it was too late for them to take a stand. In Mack’s opinion, an opinion seconded by Linc, formal wear was an instrument of torture.
“I understand Ben Rhodes is bringing a special guest,” Roy said.
Mack didn’t have a chance to respond or ask who it was before the door flew open and a breathless Linc shot into the room. “Sorry, sorry,” he said. “I got a flat tire. Have you ever tried to change a tire in one of these getups?” he demanded. He straightened his sleeves and exhaled heavily.
Mack leaned against the wall.
Linc stared hard at him. “You’re looking pale. You’re not going to faint on me, are you?”
“I’m not planning on it.” Now that Linc mentioned it, Mack did feel light-headed. His father’s admission of his own wedding-day troubles hadn’t helped. Feeling a sudden need to sit down, Mack sank into a chair and leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees.
Roy placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “The wedding will go off without a hitch, don’t you worry. You’ll do fine.”
Mack hoped so. Before he could think of anything else to worry about, Pastor Flemming came in. It was time.
His father left. Then Linc and Mack came through the vestibule door to stand beside the altar. He watched as his parents were seated in the front row next to Linnette and Pete. Gloria sat with them, on his parents’ other side. Noelle slept in her arms.
Ned and Mel Wyse sat in the pew across from them, together with some of Mary Jo’s Seattle friends.
As Mack looked at his family he saw his mother reach for a tissue. Trying not to be obvious, Corrie dabbed at her eyes. The music hadn’t even started and already his mother was getting emotional.
This was supposed to be a happy occasion! Strangely, seeing his mother so affected by this wedding seemed to relax him. He found he was smiling. As he glanced at his father, Roy winked in his direction.
The church was nearly full. Mack and Mary Jo had mailed out invitations; he couldn’t keep track of the number of people his mother had added to the list. His parents’ friends had made a point of attending, along with half the fire station. Their support touched him. He’d become close friends with these men in a short period of time. He wasn’t surprised by the number of guests as much as he