Mrs. Winston and Mrs. McGruder were happy that Liam’s and my wedding date was so close now. It helped take their minds off Collin Nickels’s disappearance and stopped them from talking about historic kidnapping and murder cases in Quincy. Mrs. Winston was entertaining the prospect of a new tenant to take Collin’s old room soon, but the mystery would haunt them both for a long time to come, I thought.
Daddy officially arrived on the day before the groom’s dinner. I had suspected that he would choose to bring my real mother along to pretend to be his new wife, Veronica. She was as beautiful now as she was the first time I had seen her in that old orphanage. The first stop he made was the Winston House on the evening he arrived. He had called ahead to tell me he was coming so I could prepare Mrs. Winston and Mrs. McGruder.
“They’re obviously a big influence on you,” he said. “Maybe more than Mrs. Fennel was, so I can’t wait to meet them.”
I waited nervously in my room. When no one came up to tell me he had arrived, I grew curious and went downstairs. Halfway there, I heard laughter and Daddy’s voice. He and my mother were in the living room with Mrs. Winston and Mrs. McGruder. They all turned my way when I appeared.
“Oh, hi, darling,” Daddy said, rising. “I asked Mrs. Winston to hold back on telling you we had arrived so we could get to know each other a little first. She offered us this special homemade elderberry wine. Delicious.” He held his glass up. “It’s the best I’ve had, and I’ve had more than my share.”
I looked at the two elderly ladies. They were, as I had imagined they would be, charmed.
Daddy smiled, put down his glass, and held out his arms. “Let me give you a hug. You look like you’re absolutely blossoming with radiance and love,” he said. “I’m so happy for you. Both of us are,” he added, and my mother stood up, too. “Thank you for letting us be a part of your wonderful event.”
I saw that both Mrs. Winston and Mrs. McGruder were waiting for me to go to him. Slowly, I approached Daddy, who hugged and kissed me.
“I’m so sorry for any unhappiness I may have caused you,” my mother offered. “I hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me.” She glanced at my father and added, “I’ll never replace your real mother, but I’ll always be there for you if you need me.”
When she kissed me on the cheek, I saw the way both Mrs. Winston and Mrs. McGruder smiled. How quickly they had bought into it all, I thought, but from my short experience in this outside world, I realized that most people were eager to avoid any controversy, even if it meant compromising their ideals.
Anyway, what choice did I have? I felt as if I were in a straitjacket. There was nothing I could say or do to break out of this scene. It would be played repeatedly in many different ways over the next few days. Daddy would charm Ken Dolan and Kelly Burnett just as easily. He would win over Liam and Julia and Clifford, and my mother would dazzle every man she met at the dinner and the wedding. They were glamorous, the two of them glittering like celebrities and at home with everyone so quickly that anyone would think they were old friends or residents of Quincy. In fact, at the groom’s dinner, Mr. Dolan asked Daddy to make a toast, and he did so, eloquently and with such emotion that he brought tears to the eyes of every father and mother at the affair. I had expected no less. I saw that he was enjoying all of it.
Because he was so handsome and energetic, winning people over with his poetic way of describing places he had been to and things he had seen, no one during those days believed for one moment that my father had been exploited by a younger, beautiful woman. He always looked fresh and debonair. In fact, most of the women at the dinner and the wedding wanted to talk to him, touch him, kiss his cheek, and get a little of his attention. Guest after guest told me how wonderful he was.
Most of our guests and friends didn’t know the fabricated story I had told the Dolans, Mrs. Winston, and Mrs. McGruder, of course, so it was even easier for them to be won over, but those I had told thought I had made a generous and loving decision to forgive him and permit him to be part of my life again. If there ever was a little portal through which I could escape any of this, it was quickly closed. I had to smile. I had to hug and kiss. I had to put away the deal I had agreed to in the darkest cabinet in my mind and go forward as Daddy’s little girl again, no matter how much I wanted not to do it.
Every smile Daddy directed at me, every kiss, and every loving touch only reinforced the power he held, not just over me but over everyone I cared for now. At any moment, he could change his mind and wreck not only my marriage and hope for a new life but also the lives of these people. Now that I knew he was close by, even when he wasn’t with me, I felt his presence.
For most women, even in this age of frequent divorces, the day they make their marriage vows and bind themselves to another’s life has to be the most significant and memorable day of their lives. Mrs. Winston told us that traditional marriage vows were traced back to the Book of Common Prayer in 1549. As a gift to her, Liam asked that we use those old words. I was to say, “I, Lorelei Patio, take thee, Liam Dolan, to be my lawful wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God’s holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth.”
Daddy stood beside me after giving me away. I couldn’t help but glance at him when I said “in sickness and in health.” His eyes reminded me that those words had new and real meaning for me now. If he was telling me the truth about what would happen once I became pregnant with Liam’s child, I was soon to expose myself to the same dangers and threats that Liam was exposed to. Repeating these marriage vows, therefore, was a much deeper commitment for me than it was for him, but I did not hesitate, nor did my voice weaken. There was no sign of any self-doubt. I was determined.
Daddy’s smile during the ceremony was truly one of pride. He firmly believed that my strength came from him and that, ironically, I couldn’t be doing this otherwise. Even my mother looked somewhat pleased. They were losing me, but they couldn’t help looking and acting like proud parents. I rejoiced, knowing that somewhere off to the side, maybe behind a tree, Ava was fuming and eating her own insides out.
We had a most glorious day for our
affair. It wasn’t terribly hot, but it was warm, with a gentle sea breeze and a cobalt-blue sky. Even the birds seemed to be participating, drawn either by curiosity or the possibility of crumbs to come. Mrs. Winston told me that the reception we had planned with Mrs. Wakefield afterward was as close to a royal wedding reception in the colonies as any could be. She rattled off details about John Adams’s wedding, as if she had been there. When Daddy told her just how accurate she was with certainty and then added details that she had forgotten, she was speechless for a moment.
“You surprise me, Mr. Patio,” she said.
“Please. Call me Sergio.”
“Your knowledge of our early history is so authentic. One might think you really were present at these events.”
How he laughed, his eyes twinkling when he looked at me. If she only knew, he was saying with that impish smile. If she only knew.
I couldn’t disagree with her about the wedding, not that I had been to any. I had read about many and had seen videos of royal weddings. If there were any hors d’oeuvres or desserts left out of ours, no one would know it or miss it. The dinner for two hundred guests, including important politicians and government officials, was spectacular. There was the choice of lobster, filet mignon, free-range chicken, and fresh fish. Wine was poured as if it came from some endless fountain. We sat at the dais and oversaw it all just like royalty. Ken, I was sure to solidify my rapprochement with my father, asked him to make a toast right after Clifford, as best man, had made his.
All eyes were on my father when he stood. I had never seen him speak to an audience as large as this one. I looked at the guests and saw how attentive and already mesmerized they all were. No one moved; not a waiter or a busboy took a step or lifted a cup. Even the birds seemed to stop flying and instead were watching and listening.
“Lorelei,” he said, turning to me, his glass of champagne in his hand, “there are two things a father tries to give his daughter. One is roots, and the other is wings. You have grown your wings strong and beautifully. After today, you will fly off, leave the nest, but you will always be loved and always have roots with our family. To Mr. and Mrs. Liam Dolan,” he declared.
People were teary-eyed. Some actually were crying. In one voice, they all cried, “Hear, hear!” Daddy smiled at me. I could see it in his face. There, I have done my part. Now remember to do yours.
Liam and I kissed to the cheers of our guests, and the wedding reception really got under way.
The band Liam had wanted played well into the starry night. Mrs. Wakefield claimed she had never seen them twinkle so and reminded us that we were looking at the same night sky our forefathers saw. A few hundred years for us was nothing compared with the time it took that light to reach the earth. Liam and I did the traditional first dance, and then Daddy stepped in, and my mother danced with Liam.
“You’re more beautiful than I had ever anticipated,” Daddy told me. “You really are fulfilling your own destiny, Lorelei. It shows.” I was about to thank him when he added, “Your daughter can’t possibly be any less beautiful or wonderful.”