MY HEART IN STONE

PART THIRTY-FIVE:

"There!" Henri said, stepping back. "Right in the center."

Cort looked at himself in the long mirror in his room at the Mini.  He shook his head. 

"Who IS that guy?" he grinned.  Henri had added the last, finishing touch...the pearl

stick pin in Cort's elegant silver grey silk cravat.

Coming up beside him, Henri smiled. Cort looked absolutely splendid in the outfit he was wearing for the ceremony.  "It suits you," he pronounced.  "It really does."  He himself

was wearing a very similar outfit, its coat hanging just to above his knees rather than

below, as Cort's did, his vest a different shade of silver grey, with different embroidery

work.  They matched perfectly...groom and best man...son and father.

Cort went to the closet and came back with a small, grey velvet box.  "Rachel's ring,"

he said, handing it to Henri. Henri pocketed it, then pinned on the white flowers that

both he and Cort were to wear.  The scent of them wafted through the room.

"Gosh, those smell wonderful," Cort commented.  "I've never smelled a flower like them before."

"Gardenias," Henri explained, straightening a few of the tiny sprigs of white freesia and

purple larkspur that made them coordinate with Rachel's flowers.  "They were my

mother's favorite."

A knock sounded at the door and Henri opened it to Pavel, who stood  there in a simple

white robe, belted at the waist with a white rope. About his shoulders hung a stole in

shades of green.  "Thought I'd match the lime tree," he smiled, entering the room.

"Very nice," he affirmed, looking at the two men.  He didn't even ask why their outfits

looked so 19th century.  It was evident somehow that what he was wearing was appropriate

for young Cortland.  "You are ready for your new adventure, my brother?"

Cort nodded and Henri pulled out his keys.  "Our coach awaits," he said, holding the

door open, his head tipped to one side.

Henri pulled into a space in the small lot near the park.  The day was sunny, just a few

puffy white clouds, and not too hot.  He paused a moment, hands still on the wheel, amazed

at how his life had changed entirely in such a short span of time.  Then he looked to the

side at Cort, who was gazing at the lime.  It was him, it was all due to him.  Blinking back

a quick tear, he opened the door.

Cort escorted them to the tree. The small table and its two benches had been moved for

the afternoon to another area of the park. The ground beneath the tree had been raked,

all the fallen twigs removed, rough areas smoothed down.  "Have you married anyone

here before, Father Pavel?" he asked, going to the large scar as he liked to do, running

his fingers down its long edge.

Pavel again saw the hand motion.  "No, this will be my first." He looked up through

the canopy of branches and leaves. "A wonderful site, though, absolutely wonderful. I

am most pleased to be here." He nodded toward the scar. "You like to touch this."

Cort's hand was still on it, in fact. "I do," he smiled gently. "I know how it feels." He

licked his lips. "If that makes any sense."

"More than you may know," Pavel replied, thoughts forming, being tucked into correct

compartments in his memory.

Their attention was diverted by the limo that was now pulling up into the parking area.

Cort started to breathe more rapidly. His bride was coming.  His bride. He closed his

eyes a moment, settling the core of himself.

Lisa’s room looked as if a floral shop had sprouted amongst her own clothes.  Rachel

hurried in with her bag of toiletries, practically pounced on the tray of deli meats and

fruit that had been sent up.

“You have your monkey suit on, Finn?”  Rachel asked her nephew as he played a game

with the Buzz Lightyear doll, one that involved pretending the LGMs were trying to make

him dress like a gorilla.  He replied by holding up Buzz, a stray flower taped to his clear

plastic helmet. 

“Does the hat look good, Aunt Rachel?”  He quoted.  “Tell me the hat looks good!”

“The hat looks good,” Rachel obliged, laughing.  “Don’t worry, dear heart.  You won't

have to wear that for long.”  She referred to his pants and shirt, adorned by a tie that

was already askew, despite the best efforts of Lisa to keep it straight. 

A knock sounded and Rachel answered to let her father in.

“Lisa’s still in the shower.  Come on, Finn, Grandpa’s here to take you away from

this madness,” Rachel said.  Glen stopped her, looking a bit sheepish.

“The next couple of hours are going to be…” he began and trailed off, losing the power

of his voice for a few minutes.  “Fast,” he added, when he felt safe again.  “Before you got

into the full frenzy of dressing, though, I wanted to bring you this.  For something old.” 

He pulled a small box out of his pocket and opened it to reveal a cameo on a cream

velvet ribbon, an elegant profile of a lady carved in white from a glowing coral matrix. 

“Mom’s cameo!”  Rachel gasped.  Glen gingerly picked it up and Rachel turned so he

could fasten it around her neck.  The oval fit perfectly over the hollow at the base of her

neck.

“Lisa got your grandmother’s pearls,” her father informed her. 

“I remember,” Rachel said, looking up at her father, whose profound lack of words

seemed to have returned.  She touched the cameo, still unbelieving that it was there, remembering how she used to hover over it when her mother let her into the jewelry

box.  Somehow its presence sealed the moment for her.

“You okay, Dad?”  She ventured to ask, ignoring her blurred vision.  Glen nodded and

then enfolded her in his arms.  “You know the old saying, Dad…” she said, muffled.

“I know, I know.  Not losing a daughter, but gaining a son.  Still…wasn’t but yesterday

you and I and Lisa were going for our ice cream runs and nature walks.”

“Hey, hey, hey!”  Lisa fussed as she came out of the bathroom, in robe and turbaned hair. 

“The crying is for AFTERwards…you know, when all the makeup is on and we get to

smear it on your jackets like Tammy Faye Baker.”  She caught sight of Rachel’s new

adornment and smiled.  “Mom’s,” she said, wistfully, touching it gently.

“Okay, well, I’m going to go catch up with the rest of the guys…I think.  Finn, leave

Buzz behind…” Glen began, motioning to the boy quietly ignoring them all.

“I missed the whole chick moment, didn’t I?”  Deidre asked, as Glen opened the door to

leave and she caught their faces.  She was dressed in sweats and t-shirt, as she too would

be getting dressed with Rachel.  “I hate that!”

Glen left with a grumbling Finn and, like maniacs, the three began their rigors of

adornment and polishing.  While Rachel bathed and powdered and pouffed and perfumed,

Lisa and Deidre finished their own preparations so that by the time she was ready for

the silk sheath, Deidre was ready to help her slip on the crochet dress as well.  Deidre

then piled Rachel’s hair up into a loose pompadour, like that of a Gibson girl, with stray

tendrils framing her face.  The lace veil was attached to a ring of baby’s breath, freesia,

purple statice, and pink alstromeria that fit like a garland around her head. 

When all was said and done, Rachel stood in front of the mirror with Lisa and Deidre

behind her.  Lisa had chosen a coral pink dress that made her look fresh and happy, her

own hair pulled in a similar fashion to Rachel.  Deidre had chosen a deep green that

made her glow, her dark red tresses dotted with peridot hair jewels.  In fact, their faint

glitter in the light sent Rachel scrambling for her bags to undo packing for something she

would have kicked herself to Zucchabar and back if she had forgotten.

“Ah ha!”  She cried, standing up and holding out the star brooch Deidre had lent…no,

 given her.  “Can you think of any place I can wear this?”

“Like I said, you’re stunning,” Deidre beamed after they pinned the brooch to a prominent ribbon in Rachel’s bouquet.  She was already sniffing and in danger of wiping off half her makeup.  “Sorry.  I’m one of those who cry at weddings.

Rachel turned to look at them both.

“We all are.  Stunning, I mean,” she said and then, more seriously, “I couldn’t have done

any of this without you two.  Neither Cort nor I…oh damn!  Now I’m crying,” she wibbled. 

“I said after, Rache,” Lisa grinned, but she too was looking decidedly watery.  “You

have something old – the crochet dress and the cameo; and something new – the earrings

and sheath; and something blue?”  Rachel showed them the blue garter around her thigh. 

“Well, now you need something borrowed.”  Lisa pulled out a delicately embroidered handkerchief.  “This was my new item for my wedding, but I’d like you to carry it.”

Rachel couldn’t say anything, only kissed her.

“Oh God, look at the time!”  Deidre exclaimed, and began grabbing up items.  “You got

your shoes on?  We got the rest of our stuff?  Lipstick to smear on lapels?  Bouquets to

throw?  The ring?  Calm nerves?  No?  Well, onward anyway!” 

Fortunately, it was Glen and Finn who rode in the limousine with them to the park, and

Cort’s ring was handed to Deidre, whose dress amazingly held a secret pocket – “hey, we archaeologists learn early on the value of pockets in any situation” she said – and Finn

was given the symbolic pillow, the purpose of which they were explaining as they pulled

up to a causeway that Rachel was now familiar with as leading to the lime tree.  The

young boy was still skeptical, if not a bit scornful of such girl stuff.  Bottom line, Glen

told him, walk forward with it in front of you until you get to Cort.  That, Finn said

with no small amount of pride, he could do.

They had drawn up to a portion that did not allow full visual sight of the tree, even

though Rachel was straining to catch a glimpse of those gathered there already.  All she

was able to see was the occasional drift of Fr. Pavel’s robe as he stood, apparently

chatting with others out of sight.  Rachel supposed that would be Henri and Cort. 

“I think the gardeners here planted bushes a certain way to provide an avenue for the

bride to collect herself before appearing,” Glen said as the chauffeur opened the door

for them and Finn, Lisa, and Deidre carefully climbed out with their bouquets.  The

two of them remained in their seats briefly, sharing one last moment.  “You will have

a bit of shielding here to get ready before we begin.”  He stopped and gathered up his

daughter’s hands.  “Both my daughters make lovely brides.  I just want you to know….”

Glen began, smiling at her.  “Well…I just want you to know that I love you and I wish

you and Cort a long and happy life together.  I’m pleased.  He is a good, good man and

I hope he makes you a good life.”

Rachel leaned against her father, kissed his cheek.

“I love you, too,” she said.

Indeed, it seemed as if the master planner of the town garden had created a kind of

vegetative pre-progressive room long ago with a tall and wild thicket of lilac bushes

which parted in the middle of one line to reveal a well worn path that aimed straight

for the sheltering boughs of the lime tree.  They lined up in the order in which they

were to approach: Finn with his pillow, Lisa, then Deidre, and finally Glen and Rachel. 

It was the strains of Pachabel’s Canon in D on the violin that Rachel had realized she

had forgotten completely about music.  Lisa turned and smiled triumphantly. 

“They’re gypsies!”  She whispered.

And so it began.  Finn, with the sound of the music, seemed to acquire a seriousness that

Rachel had never seen before, and without so much as a squiggle of protest, stepped

through the lilacs onto the path.  Several beats later, Lisa disappeared and Deidre turned

a brilliant smile on her.

“See you on the flip side, Jedi!”  She said with a wink, and began down the path.

Glen sucked in a gulp of air, and bent down to give Rachel a kiss on the cheek.  Then, he

led her toward the tree. 

 

Rachel grasped the bouquet of stargazers, baby’s breath, and roses in one hand, held

tight to her father’s arm with the other, wondering if she would make it down the aisle. 

She could feel for her father, but no words could describe her eagerness to see Cort at

the other end.  Her legs felt weak.  Her heart pounded.  She forgot whether or not her

makeup was perfect, or if her shoes fit a little too snug, or if the sudden burst of sunlight

as she and Glen emerged from behind the lilacs made her skin tingle with heat.  All she

knew when she first caught sight of Cort standing beside Fr. Pavel was that she could

think of nothing else but how beautiful he looked.  It was only her father’s pat on the arm

that reminded her to breathe, so moved was she by the sight of her groom.  A brief second

later and Glen drew her forward, standing between herself and Cort as the priest greeted

the guests.

He watched her coming as though he stood in some dream and she, too, were walking in

that dream. There was both an ultimate reality about it and a floating quality to it, dream

and life occupying the same space at the same time. Was he breathing? He didn't know. 

Then the violin stopped and she was there, there beside him. Almost beside him. Glen

was still there, holding her right arm.

Cort stepped forward, turning as he moved so that he was standing just to Glen's right,

all three of them now facing Father Pavel. Breathe, he commanded his lungs. Pavel had

started to speak. What was he saying? He could hear his heart, could hear the gentle

whisper of each lime leaf as it brushed its neighbor. A cricket chirped from somewhere

nearby and in a distant part of the park, a woman laughed.  His eyes found Henri's and

they were filled with a gentle reassurance. He swallowed, licked his lips, was aware of

how his breaths felt cool now passing over the moisture of his lick.  His eyes flicked now

to his left, straining to see her face, but her profile was blocked by Glen's presence and

all he could see were the delicate, falling folds of her veil and the bouquet she held in

her left hand.  Lilies. That was what he was smelling.  She carried lilies...and roses. He

closed his eyes, letting the scent fill his world.

Father Pavel loved weddings, loved watching all the faces, all the emotion flowing over

the features of those faces.  Cort's handsome face was almost a distraction, though, as

his feelings played freely across his tan features. Pavel found himself almost wanting

just to stop and watch it. The young man, though, thank the good Lord, was completely

unaware of his appeal to those around him, but his very unselfconsciousness about

himself only served to make him even more appealing.  Pavel grinned, cleared his

throat, and started speaking. He'd had a long talk with the Boss last night about what

to say today and had felt himself rather clearly instructed to make no preparation at

all in that regard. And, so, he began, not knowing which word would follow which, but

only that if he opened his mouth, he believed that the words would come. Cort had given

him a simple outline of sorts and said that he and Rachel would be speaking their own

vows to one another. That, too, was right. There was something free-form about this

wedding under the old lime.  He didn't know Cort's whole story, but had the definite

sense that there was much more between these two young people than met the casual

eye. He was very aware, too, of the presence of the tree immediately behind him, as

much a guest somehow as any other as it offered itself to them in this moment.

"I bid each and every one of you welcome," he said, looking with a smile from person

to person in the small group that had gathered for the ceremony. "It is, indeed, a joyous

thing to come together to witness a man and a woman become husband and wife. It is

a sacrament, a holy thing, and to be a part of it, to stand as we are, offering to them our

active love and our support, takes us into that sacrament with them and the blessing

of it becomes a shared blessing and all the greater for it."

He looked then at Glen. "Who gives this woman to be married to this man?"

"I do," Glen answered, managing to keep his voice firm. He kissed Rachel gently on her

cheek then took her right hand and placed it in Cort's left, giving Cort's shoulder an

affectionate squeeze as he stepped back and around Rachel.

At last! Cort sighed, curling his fingers around the warmth of hers. He'd needed the

touch of her, the feel of her flesh against his.  His heartbeats were slowing now, a sense

of peace settling over him like a mantle. Lifting her hand briefly, he kissed her knuckles,

then let them settle, locked together, her hand in his, between them as they stood side by

side. He wanted nothing more in that moment but for time to stop and everything stand

still so he could tell her how beautiful she was, how the sight of her made him feel all

trembly inside, how he wanted to take her in his arms and find her mouth with his. But

he stood there quietly, his thumb rubbing softly back and forth across the softness of her

hand.

That was when the full force of Cort’s beauty captured her.  His fingers laced with hers

and his deep sigh breathed away her remaining nervousness, replaced it with utter

surety and love.  He kissed her hand and Rachel could barely see anything but his face.

Father Pavel looked up at the canopy above them, waiting for the words he would say

to say to come to him.  They were about the tree...he knew that much. He liked it...

times like this...times when he had prepared nothing but waited entirely on the Lord.

Indeed, had God not promised, "Open your mouth and I will fill it."  And so he did.

"In the evenings of my days I sit on the steps of my chapel and I lift mine eyes unto the

hills as it is written that we should do. Today, here, in the afternoon I lift mine eyes

upwards into this canopy of green and I hear in my soul the whisper of the word,

'Isaiah,' for it is there we are given the most beautiful portrait of a canopy in all of

scripture. 'In that day the branch of the Lord will be beautiful and glorious, and the

fruit of the land will be the pride and glory of the survivors.  Then the Lord will create

over all of the mount and over those who assemble there a cloud of smoke by day and

a glow of flaming fire by night, over all the glory will be a canopy, a shelter and a shade

from the heat of the day, and a refuge and a hiding place from the storm and the rain.'"

His eyes moved back and forth between Cort and Rachel as he spoke. "The two of you

are survivors and you stand here this day in the sight of God and the presence of friends

 and family to join the two halves that you are into the one whole that you are destined

to become. You stand under this canopy in a way very much like the canopies that the

children of Israel take their vows beneath." He tipped his eyes up again, keeping them

there a moment as he continued, "but this is a canopy designed and made by the hand

of God and the ground whereon you stand is holy ground because God is here and there

is no place where He is not and also because this land bears in it over 800 years of

prayers lifted up beneath this tree. Prayers have a way of charging the air where they

are said, of accumulating over time in concentrated places like this so that you can

almost reach out and touch their presence. And, so, this place you have chosen, brings

with it a blessing and an anointing of both power and of peace."

"Let us pray.  Father, I lift up before You this day Your children, Cortland Wells and

Rachel Keirs, and I ask that you make their marriage strong like the trunk of this tree,

that you make it blossom like its branches in the spring, that it be fruitful like the

harvest of limes, and that it be always steadfast in the face of the storms of life like the

spreading greenness of this tree despite its great wound.  I ask that You give them

another grace from Isaiah this day that they will go out from this place with joy and be

led forth in peace; the mountains and the hills bursting into song before them, and all

the trees of the field clapping their hands.  In Jesus' name.  Amen."

"Cortland," he said, fixing his eyes on Cort's, "before you speak your vows there is a

thing that must be said to you, my brother.  I call you that, 'my brother', because you

have, years ago, dedicated your life to His service and we walk together, you and I, as

brothers in the Lord.  I know that great and terrible things have come your way and

you have struggled much with who you are."  He reached out and placed his palm

atop Cort's bowed head.  "The Lord wants you to know that He has not forgotten you,

that He will never leave you or forsake you.  He blesses you this day, blesses your

marriage, blesses your new life.  His word for you in this moment is from Jeremiah 17. 

‘Most blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in Him.  He will

be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream.  It does not

fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green.  It has no worries in a year of

drought and never fails to bear fruit.'"

Cort lifted his head, blinking back tears, his face beautiful beyond description.

"Now, my brother," Pavel smiled, "turn and face your bride, taking both her hands in

yours, and say to her what is in your heart."

Rachel handed her bouquet to Dee, and Cort stood silently, waiting as she lifted her

hands to his.  "Thou art all beautiful, my love, there is no flaw in thee," he whispered

just for her ears as his warm, brown fingers curved around hers. His voice trembled

slightly with emotion and he paused a moment, just looking at her, at how the long

waving tendrils of her hair matched the flow of the draping folds of her delicate veil,

at how her lashes cast shadows across her cheekbones, at the soft curve of her lips,

parted just slightly, as she waited for him to speak.

When his eyes stopped their movement over her face, he centered them on hers. 

“Rachel," he said. "Rachel." Then he just gazed into her eyes, his speaking things to

her that only she would ever see.  "You are my Rachel and I came to you like Jacob

out of the desert and the wilderness in need of water."  His eyes said Remember, my

love, that moment we met...how you offered me a glass of water in a time of thirst?   

"And you became for me my source of sustenance."  He began rubbing his thumbs

over her knuckles with both hands as he spoke.  "And like Jacob I was a fugitive from

my own life, alone, completely lost.  When he was offered water, he kissed her and

began to weep because he felt a love he did not understand being returned to him.  

You did that for me just as she did for him.  You found me in all my dusty lostness

and you showed me what love could be."

He turned his head a moment to his right, looking at the tree, then back into her eyes. 

"Like this lime tree, I was split open, walking the earth with a wound so gaping that

even I did not know the depth of it. I understand what it is like to be struck by lightning

that sears its way down into your roots and then to be struck again and yet again until

you seem more dead than alive. The day you came to me I was like the trunk of a tree,

broken open, barely standing...but you came and you brought with you water...and I

lived."  He tipped his head slightly, still maintaining his steady gaze. "You brought

with you green...you remember...yes? And you filled me up with your greenness so that

I could not only heal but become green myself again, greener than I'd ever been

before...ever."

He licked his lips, smiled, then continued. "Rachel Keirs, I promise you this day that

as we stand under the canopy of this tree that has survived beyond all hopes, all

expectations, that I will be a canopy to you, sheltering you, protecting you, that I

will be there for you in all the seasons of our lives I will not leave you in the freezing

snows nor in the blazing heat of summer. I will love you beyond the deepest hopes,

beyond all possible expectations that the heart of man is able to imagine. All that I

am is yours, my heart, my mind, my body...my life. I pledge to you my trust, my loyalty,

and my honor.  I will love you, Rachel Keirs, and none other. I offer you my hand, my

heart, and my soul and trust utterly that they will be safe with you. I offer you all the

days before me, no matter what may come our way. As freely as God has given me life,

I join my life this day to yours.  Rachel, with all my heart I take you now to be my wife."

Her eyes tracked the movement of his expressions as he spoke, forgetting the sounds of

the park, the sigh of the lime tree, the faint sniffing of Deidre as she silently dabbed

away tears, all fading out until all she heard was Cort opening up the innermost part

of his heart.  If she had been conscious of the audience, she might have blushed, because

this heart revealed such a precious, deeply passionate strength and intimacy that an

unworthy spectator might have been tempted to scoff.  But in listening to his words,

taking in his expression, Rachel saw nothing else but his gaze, felt nothing else but his

hands, pulled into that intimate space, until she realized this was the union she had

been longing for, had seen promised in his eyes.  She could scarcely grasp his hands

in return for the trembling that had set in. 

So it was several moments when he ended before she could find her own voice, knowing

it was time for her to say her own vows, and panicking slightly because she had been

spending long days thinking of grand phrases, amusing anecdotes, snatches of poetry,

and finding none of it remotely close to what she wanted to convey.  Could she ever speak

what was in her heart?  There were no words, not after Cort had opened up as he had

just now.  She squeezed his hands, her eyes blinking away the tears that had risen.  She

couldn’t smile wide enough, couldn’t speak…

He had referred to their first moment.  What had she felt?  Her memory flipped open,

as though a book, so that the image of him standing in the street with the Marshall’s star

filled her vision.  She remembered, then, just as he had when she gave him the water. 

She wanted to give him that water because…because…

“When I first saw you, you held a star in your hand.  It was tarnished, old, belonging to

someone else, loaded with someone else’s pain to bear.  You didn’t know it at the time,

because all you saw around you was death and destruction, but it shone brightly for me

and I followed it so I could show you its worth, to me and to yourself.  A star means hope,

and I had hope, for you and because of you, hope for healing, for growth, and a hope for love...love that you gave me without question, without asking for anything in return. 

You showed me such a strong and abiding light that when it disappeared from view, I

felt its absence intensely, acutely.  Losing you was like losing hope.”

Now that she had begun, the words that she had been striving for filled her mouth,

jumbling together to get out and make sense. 

“But,” she went on, “someone once told me that because we do not see the light does not

mean the star is gone, only that a change is taking place, a change to a higher and more

brilliant light, and it comes about through pressure and time.  Because God showed you

the light of those stars at night, because you and I held onto that light, He guided us into

a change.  Without God, you and I are nothing but darkness waiting for hope; and…,”

Rachel took a deep breath…yes, this was what she saw when she looked at Cort, “without

you in my life, I am but a lump of coal.  Your love has changed me into something I

never thought I could be, something I could never be without the hope of being at your

side.” 

She lifted his hands and kissed each one briefly, pausing to refocus his gaze upon her. 

“That’s why I pledge my love to you today, to promise you that I will always be there for

you, to lessen your pain as well as increase your joy, to comfort you and live life to its

fullest with you, to give you my trust, loyalty, and honor.  I am yours, Cortland Wells,

and yours alone.  No other man shall have me, because it is your light that I will hold

onto and follow all the days of my life.  Cort, my love, my dearest heart, I give you

everything I have within me.  I give you my heart, my soul, my love, forever and ever,

until the last star has shone its final light and God returns our world to the star-dust

from which it came.  On this day forward, you are my husband, my guiding star.  With

all that I am, I shall be your wife.”

Father Pavel looked at Cort.  "May I have Rachel's ring?" he asked.   He had been greatly moved by what the young people said to each other, by its openness and its level of truth.

Henri handed Rachel's ring to Cort, who, in turn, set it on Pavel's extended palm.  Pavel

held the ring up between his thumb and forefinger, unable not to smile at its composition,

and prayed, "Father, I ask Your blessing on this ring, on he who gives it and she who

wears it that they may continue in Your grace all the days of their lives."

He handed it back to Cort, who took it and turned to face Rachel.  He held it on the flat

of his palm so that she could clearly see it.  It was white gold with a single, large pearl.

The pearl was nested between small clusters of diamonds formed in the shape of hearts so

that it appeared the two hearts supported the central pearl.

"It is said," Cort began, moving the ring slightly on his palm with his left forefinger,

"that in the Heavenly City there are twelve gates and that each gate is formed from a

single pearl."  He lifted his eyes, then, to hers. "I wanted a pearl in your ring for two

reasons, one being that you...you, Rachel...have been for me and will always be for me...

my gateway into what I know of love in this life.  The other comes from a parable in

Matthew where it says that once there was a man who, when he had found one pearl

of great price, went and sold all that he had and bought it.  To get the best, he had to

abandon everything in his life that was second best.  You, Rachel Keirs, are my pearl

of great price and as you become my wife today I promise you that you will always be

first, that I will always, always put your good before my own, that I will let nothing that

is second best ever distract me from what is best.  And you, Rachel, you are my best."

He didn't lift a hand to wipe away the tear that tracked down his cheek as he looked

at her.  "And there are two hearts, one on either side of the pearl, one for you and the

other for me.  The pearl is the promise, the vow, the pledge of our love and is what

connects my heart to yours. My heart...," his chin quivered slightly, "...my heart was

kept from yours inside the stone walls of Kamen, inside the stone walls of forgetfulness. 

These hearts on your ring are stone, too, but stone of a different sort, not dull and flat

like castle walls, but sparkling and full of light and life.  And that is how you make my

heart feel, my Rachel, just like that."

He picked up the ring and as he began its smooth slide down her finger said, "With

this ring I thee wed, taking you as my wife, as the chosen companion of my heart, in the

name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit."  Then he lifted her hand to

his lips and kissed the ring, not taking his eyes off hers as he did so.

Pavel waited a moment, giving them time, then he asked gently, "Rachel, may I have

Cort's ring?"

Rachel smiled up at Cort to show her approval, wishing she could just stand there and

gaze at the pearl in its setting, the ring around her finger, her white hand in his brown

one.  But Deidre stepped forward and handed her the ring she chose for Cort and so

Rachel gave it to Father Pavel to bless.

The priest lifted Cort's ring and prayed, "Father, I ask Your blessing on this ring, on

she who gives it and he who wears it that they may continue in Your grace all the days

of their lives."  Then he placed the ring back in her hand.

Rachel took Cort’s left hand and turned it so that his palm was held upwards, but instead

of placing the ring in its cup, she held the ring upright in her own fingers, her hand

resting inside his so that he could see the setting.  It was a single band of white gold, its

surface smooth and glossy, and in the center a single diamond mounted flush with the

band, a focal point of silver light flashing even in the shade of the tree.

“I told you once,” Rachel began, “of a coal miner who promised his beloved the essence

of the earth in the form of a piece of coal, a crude piece of black rock, a lump of

common matter.  It was all he could give her, but his simple gesture was more precious

to her than all the diamonds in the world, because she understood the potential of that

piece of coal  She knew that coal, under great pressure through time, would be formed

into the hardest and most brilliant of gemstones.  She knew that marriage, like that piece

of coal, would undergo great pressure through time, and with love, would become like

a glittering star itself.  Think of that!  A diamond was once the dust of stars, just as we

were.  I put a single diamond in your ring to symbolize our marriage, a jewel of great

brilliance, a star of hope for the future.”

When she had lifted the ring and turned Cort’s hand to slip it on, she paused,

remembering something else.  She held the ring up again to show him the inside,

where cursive letters flowed along the smooth surface.

“I had engraved,” she added, “on the inside the words ‘a star shines upon us.’  A star

shone upon the hour of our meeting, Cortland Wells, and like a star, my deepest, most

sincere love for you is represented.” 

Rachel took a deep breath, suddenly out of words.  She slipped the ring onto his finger,

and as she pressed it gently down to the base, turned her gaze back to his as she spoke

the final vow, repeating what he had said.  “With this ring, I thee wed, taking you to be

my husband, my abiding companion in hope and love, in the name of the Father, the

Son, and the Holy Spirit, forever and ever.”

With his right forefinger, Cort touched the stone embedded in his ring, repeating almost

under his breath, "my abiding companion".  His heart had never been so full in his life. 

Then he wrapped his left hand firmly around Rachel's right, holding on, as the two of

them turned back to face Father Pavel.

Pavel smiled at the young couple, saying, "May you always need one another, not so

much to fill your emptiness as to know your fullness.  May you enter ever more deeply

into the mystery which is the awareness of one another's presence.  May you have

happiness and may you find it in making one another happy.  May you have love, and

may you find it in loving one another.  Let us pray.  Father, bless this newly wedded

couple, giving them the grace to keep the covenant between themselves they have made

this day in Your sight.  Set Your hand upon their hearts and let all they have seen teach

them to trust You for all they have not seen.  May each heart find rest in the other and

they come to know a love which has no bound or end.  In Jesus' name, Amen."

Pavel continued, "Cort, Rachel, the two of you have come to know that life fully lived

is not an exercise in safety. There is no doubt that both of you know how to love in good

times and in bad, to stand by one another no matter what comes. And so it is with great confidence in my heart that I now say to you that forasmuch as you have made your vows

and covenant before God and those of us assembled here today, have given your pledge

and promise each to the other, and have declared the same by the giving and receiving of

rings and the joining of hands, by the power invested in me I now pronounce that you

are husband and wife, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. 

Cort, you may kiss your wife!"

Cort turned to her, brushing her cheek lightly with his fingers, looking into her eyes,

savoring that first exquisite moment of her being his wife.  Then, slowly, as if this

moment were somehow set apart, out of the reach of time to number its seconds, above

that, beyond that, his arms began to encircle her, to draw her to him.  Before his lips

found hers, they whispered, "My wife."  Then her mouth was soft and warm beneath

his and he felt his being melt into hers so that he could no longer tell where he left off

and she began.

While she and Cort finished taking pictures under the tree, one of which involved a 

particularly ephemeral moment when they stood by the river and the sunlight hit just 

exactly behind them, throwing them into profile as Cort held her hands in his and looked 

down at her, in just the moment he would hover before kissing her, the others climbed 

into the limousine to be taken back to the Golden Angel to finalize the reception, while 

Cort, Rachel, Henri, and Father Pavel remained behind.

Cort shook Pavel's hand. "Thank you," he said earnestly. "It was just perfect."

Pavel smiled.  "It was the two of you who made it perfect, not me. Just being here with 

you was a blessing for me."

Cort pulled Henri briefly aside and began to pluck leaves from the lime, handing them to 

the doctor. "Will you do me a favor, Henri?   Will you press these in a book or something 

for me and when they're ready, get them to me?  I want to make something for Rachel
out of them."

Henri smiled.  "Taking the lime back to America, eh?"

"Something like that," Cort grinned, then hugged Henri. "Thank you, too. You've done so 

much for us to make this day what it is.  I can't tell you how much I appreciate all of it...

how much I appreciate you."

"There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you, Son," Henri replied, his eyes serious.

"I know that.  I really know that," Cort said.  "Means everything to me."

Then, the limousine returned to take Cort and Rachel, as Henri would be driving himself 

and Father Pavel in his car back to the hotel.  

“You two should be alone for a few minutes, to let it all sink in,” Henri said, kissing Rachel 

on the cheek, and hugging Cort.  “Take your time getting to the hotel.  I suspect they will 

be needing to get things in place for you anyway.”

Settling into the seat, she suddenly felt every second it took for him to climb in after her, 

close the door, and sit beside her as long eons before she could touch him again.  Before he 

could even lean back and place an arm around her, she laid a hand on his cheek and
pulled him into a kiss.  The bouquet slid to the floor of the car, but she didn’t notice, didn’t 

care.  

“Hello, Mr. Wells,” she whispered when they broke apart.  “How are your first few minutes 

as my husband?”

He smiled. "As far as minutes go, I'd say they rated right up there at the top, Mrs. Wells."  

Then he kissed her again. And then again.

The driver took them around Hromada a few times, and they alternately looked out the 

window or gave into intense moments of cuddling.  They pulled up to the Angel soon enough 

where they were greeted by a waiting Glen.

“Perfect timing!”  He exclaimed, as he stepped back to let Cort help Rachel out.  “They 

have the cake ready and the maitre’d just signaled they were ready to serve dinner."  

They followed Glen into a private party room of the restaurant where all the others had 

gathered.  The number of people who had come weren’t more than she could count on 

fingers and toes, but it seemed to her that when they walked into the room, it was filled 

to the brim with merriment and happiness.  Volos entertained Finn with magic tricks, 

Terry and Dee canoodled in a corner, while Lisa sat with Franco, conversing with him 

animatedly.  

“Ladies, gentleman, I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Cortland Wells!” Glen announced. 

“Come look at the cake,” Lisa encouraged, and drew them to a side table where a small 
three-tiered confection sat amid scattered petals of roses and alstromeria, smoothly 

covered with white fondant, adorned with white satin ribbon, and topped with silk 

Oriental lilies.  Beside that was a plate of chocolate petit fours topped with strawberries.

“Oh Lisa, it's all so lovely!”  Rachel hugged her sister close.  


The next couple of hours became a whirlwind of activity, as she and Cort went through 

cutting the cake (with pictures) and sharing champagne (with pictures) and sitting and 

talking with everyone. Deidre pinned the brooch to her dress so she wouldn’t forget, and 

Henri plied them with a vintage wine he had stored away long ago.  Dinner was served with
aplomb, but to her dying day, Rachel couldn’t remember what it was, even though Cort 

kept gently nudging her to eat, since there would be little to eat on the way, while ignoring 

his own full plate of food.  How could she eat when she wanted to thank and hug and visit
with everyone there?  It wasn’t until Henri stood to speak a few words as Cort’s best man 

that Rachel took a glimpse out the window and saw the plaza completely in shadow, a 

familiar sight, but the purple-blue and yellow hues had a distinct shade to her now: this 

was their last evening in Hromada.

It had all gone so fast!

“I’m going to miss this place,” she whispered to Cort, when she got the chance.  

Finally, the dinner dishes were cleared away and the room settled into a cozy buzz of talking, 

the tables pushed aside to set the chairs in a circle.  Father Pavel held their attention much 

of the time with stories and Finn broke out Buzz Lightyear once more, having persuaded 

his mother into letting him do so for being such a good boy during the ceremony.  Glen sat 

next to and chatted with Cort while she took to leaning against her husband’s…husband!...

shoulder and staring down at her newly crowned hand.  The pearl glowed softly in a 

sunbeam that had somehow strayed from its source and fell across her lap, turning the 

white and cream of her dress into an auburn filigree.  The diamonds in the setting sparkled 

back.  

“Well, ladies, gentlemen…” she heard Terry begin, and she turned to see her friend and 

boss stand and walk to the center of the circle and raise his full champagne glass.  Already, 

the bottle was being passed around to fill their glasses once more.  Terry looked at Cort 

and Rachel with a fond smile while he waited, then pointed to the watch on his wrist.  

“I have just looked at the time and see that our bride and groom should be on their way if 

they want to make it in time for dinner in Montana,” he said in a general address. “Your 

bags are already at the airport, packed and waiting, so all you need to do is toss the bouquet 

and get the hell out of Dodge, as you Yanks would say. But before you go, I would like to 

say a few words of my own…everyone, a toast…a simple blessing for you, Cort, and you, 

Rachel, that I wish to place in your ears as the final moment of your wedding day…and it is
this: may your mornings bring joy and your evenings bring peace, may your troubles grow 

few as your blessings increase.  May the saddest day of your future be no worse than the 

happiest day of your past.  May you never lie, cheat, or drink.  But…if you must lie,” Terry 

paused as a ripple of laughter went around the room, “lie with each other.  And if you
must cheat, cheat death.  And if you must drink, drink with us,” he smiled as he twisted the 

glass in his hand for effect, “for we all love you and wish you both the love and happiness 

you deserve.”

So she and Cort went around the room and hugged each person there tightly with many 

tears and smiles, ending up at the doorway of the room, where she and Cort clasped hands 

and began the way down the stairs to the lobby where the limousine pulled up once more. 
Cheers went up among the crowd of people outside as Terry, Deidre, Lisa, Glen, and the 

others followed, tossing birdseed at them as they went.  

Then, the door of the limousine slammed shut, the driver got in, turned on the engine, and 

they pulled away, waving as they went to Deidre and Lisa, who trot