1022 Evergreen Place - Debbie Macomber [124]
Then the organ music began. Everyone stood as Mary Jo appeared at the back of the church. Mack straightened his shoulders and turned to face the woman who was about to become his wife.
One glance at her, and his breath caught in his throat. He must have taken a small step forward because Linc placed a restraining hand on his arm.
Mary Jo had never looked more beautiful. The dress, lace and pearls over silk, was everything she’d promised. Their eyes met, happiness radiating from hers. He felt her joy and experienced his own profound sense of rightness. For a moment he forgot to breathe. He stood transfixed, unable to move. Not until Pastor Flemming spoke did Mack realize it was time to stand by Mary Jo’s side and repeat his vows.
The rest of the ceremony was lost in a whirl of words. Somehow he managed to say and do all that was required of him. While he’d been nervous earlier, now he felt calm and confident. Deep in his heart, his soul, he recognized that he’d made the best decision of his life when he’d asked Mary Jo to be his wife.
Organ music soared through the church as they walked down the aisle together as husband and wife. Several guys from the station high-fived him as he walked past. Mack’s smile was so big it hurt his face.
Everyone followed them from the church to the Fellowship Hall, where the tables were set up. The area had been transformed with flowers, decorations and balloons. Mack had no idea who was responsible for all this but he guessed his mother, Linnette and Gloria had played a large role.
Together with his parents, Mack and Mary Jo formed a short reception line and greeted their guests as they came through the door.
“You might remember that I mentioned Ben Rhodes was bringing a special guest,” Roy said to him in a low voice.
“Oh, yeah. Who is it?”
His father pointed at the other side of the room, where Jacob Dennison sat in his wheelchair.
“Mary Jo, look,” he said, and nodded toward Dennison.
“Oh, Mack.”
When their last guest had entered the hall, Mack took Mary Jo by the hand and led her across the room. Dennison smiled up at them. “What a fine young couple you make.”
“It’s such an honor to have you at our wedding,” Mary Jo told the old man in a tremulous voice.
“I wouldn’t want to miss this. You two gave me a priceless gift by returning the letters I wrote Joan. Reading them brought back memories I’d long forgotten, memories I want to pass on to my children and grandchildren. This is a piece of my history—of their history, too. I will be forever grateful to you.”
Mary Jo bent down to kiss Jacob’s cheek.
“Now,” he went on to say, “I wish for you the same happiness Joan and I had together. May your life be filled with love and may you always be as happy as you are this day.”
Mary Jo smiled tearfully and looked at Mack. He tightened his hand on hers.
Dennison glanced at the wedding cakes. “I don’t suppose you’d mind cutting me a piece of cake, would you?”
“I would love to,” Mary Jo told him.
They made their way through the crowd toward the wedding cakes. When they were almost there, Mary Jo paused and placed her hand over her heart. “What Jacob said? I am happy, Mack, so happy.”
“I am, too.” This was no exaggeration. Mack wasn’t even sure how to describe the emotion that suffused every part of him. He felt both calm, supremely calm, and ecstatic, surrounded by his family and friends, surrounded by happiness.
He and his father exchanged a smile. Roy wasn’t a man who smiled often or freely, but he did now. Mack felt his approval, his support. His mother was mingling with guests, completely in her element. His two sisters sat at a table, their heads close together, chatting about heaven knew what. Gloria continued to hold the sleeping Noelle.
Linnette was obviously pregnant now and due in another six weeks. Pete seemed content, talking to one of Mack’s firefighter buddies.
Mary Jo cut the large, tiered cake and after they’d posed for pictures they delivered the first slice to Jacob Dennison. Ben and Charlotte sat with him and had been joined by Olivia and her