The Secret Bliss of Calliope Ipswich (6 page)

“Not at all,” Lawson said.
He winked at Calliope as he took Shay’s hand and led her down the porch steps toward the main thoroughfare of Meadowlark Lake.

Calliope watched them leave, commenting, “Won’t she be the perfect little bride?”

Kizzy and Evangeline followed her gaze. “Perfect!” Evangeline agreed. “Now, you mentioned yellow roses, Calliope,” she continued. “Were you thinking yellow dresses for the bridesmaids as well?”

“Or lavender
. Lavender would be beautiful! And it goes so well with yellow,” Kizzy suggested.

But Calliope shrugged.
“I don’t know. I just thought that it seemed like a good time to finally, finally present a Tom Thumb wedding. I hadn’t gotten much further than that.”

“Let’s get some paper and pencils,” Evangeline suggested
, “write a few things down while our minds are fresh on it.”

“Oh, Calliope
,” Kizzy sighed, hugging her stepdaughter and friend affectionately, “you’ve no idea the joy you bring to the world, my sweet thing. This is a wonderful idea—and just the sort of innocent, happy distraction this town could use…especially after what happened last Halloween.” As Kizzy gazed into Calliope’s eyes, Calliope was awed by the beautiful emotion in the countenance of her father’s young bride. “You bring enchantment into the soul of anyone who is blessed to know you. Thank you for that.”

Calliope was moved, nearly to tears, by Kizzy’s words
, for she could feel the fabric of their sincerity. And though she deemed Kizzy’s compliment as far too kind, she was overwhelmed with knowing the woman meant her words. What greater gift could a person give to the world than enchantment?

Rowdy Gates spun around to look behind him. The squeals he’d heard coming from the Ipswich home were that of unmeasured female delight. In fact, the sound was so foreign to him—so long absent in his life—that it had taken him a moment to recognize it. Yet when he’d looked back to see the three Ipswich women giggling with joy and hugging one another—seen Lawson Ipswich standing and smiling with amusement at their goings-on—he did remember how marvelous the sound of female laughter was.

Returning his attention to the last lamp to be lit in
Meadowlark Lake for the evening, Rowdy thought on what a lucky and truly blessed man Judge Lawson Ipswich was. Obviously he’d known immense love in his life—still knew it. No doubt there had been great pain as well, for Rowdy knew that the judge had lost the mother of his three eldest daughters years before. Yet to be surrounded as he was now, with the tender, loving hearts of women—with their nurturing ways, kindness, exuberance, and happiness—it was something he doubted most men ever knew, especially to the extent that Lawson Ipswich did.

Yet Rowdy was not resentful.
He didn’t envy the judge in any malicious manner. Rather he was glad for him. Lawson was a good and honorable man. He deserved the kind of happiness God had showered down on him. But before he began to think too much on what Lawson had that he didn’t, Rowdy turned his thoughts to his own blessing of miracles. After all, he’d survived what few men could have—lived through it. Maybe he didn’t have a beautiful wife or babies to bounce on his knee, but there was still time. At least he hoped there was. Perhaps if he could heal completely—walk without any limp at all—then he might find the courage to flirt a bit with the lovely young ladies of Meadowlark Lake the way the other bachelors did.

His thoughts were getting away from him
, wandering to venues he knew were mere fantasy. And so once Rowdy had lit the last lamplight of Meadowlark Lake’s main street, he turned and sauntered toward home—toward a cool evening breeze, perhaps some cold biscuits and a hunk of ham for supper.

But as Rowdy neared the house just outside of town where he dwelt, he was once again struck by the lonesome sense of the absence of a spirit.
The terrifying events of the previous fall had hit Rowdy Gates hard, though no one knew how hard. The madness of Prudence Mulholland had peaked its malice on Amoretta Ipswich and Brake McClendon that dark All Hallow’s Eve. But the poor girl’s violent insanity had begun with the murder and mutilation of Rowdy’s dog, Dodger, and each and every night since, Rowdy Gates missed the old mutt—missed his companionship at night when the house was dark and lonesome.

Dodger had been far more than a good dog
; Dodger had helped save Rowdy Gates’s life, and the man’s heart still twinged with missing his faithful old friend. In fact, as had become his habit, Rowdy paused beneath the old willow tree where he’d buried his cherished canine friend, after managing to recover his carcass before Sheriff Dennison had put fire to it months before.

Hunkering down, Rowdy placed a hand on the stone-covered mound that was Dodger’s resting place.
“How you doin’ tonight, ol’ boy?” he asked in a lowered voice. “I sure do miss your barkin’.” He chuckled as happy memories of the dog washed over him. “I even miss them slobberin’ kisses of yours, I guess. Though I can’t figure out why.” His smile faded as he continued, “Still, it was somethin’—you lightin’ up when you saw me comin’. Just between you and me and the fence, I get mighty tired of no one bein’ glad to see me, you know?” He thought a moment and then smiled again. “Though that little Ipswich girl, that Shay, she seemed a might glad to see me tonight. That lightened my heart a bit.” His smile broadened, and he added, “Of course, just settin’ eyes on her pretty sister lightened my heart a bit more.” Rowdy drew a slow, deep breath, exhaling a sigh of returning loneliness. “Still, girls like her…it’s the Fox Montroses of the world they’re meant for, not raggedy, banged-up ol’ fellers like us. Ain’t that right?”

Sighing again, Rowdy put down his ladder and sat down on the ground next to Dodger’s grave.
“Look at them stars, Dodger, will ya?” he mumbled. “As bright and as beautiful as the sparkle in Calliope Ipswich’s eyes.” He frowned. “Damn that Fox Montrose.”

“We’ve chosen yellow and lavender as the colors,” Calliope explained. She looked to Mrs. Montrose, admitting, “We were hoping you would allow us a few of your beautiful yellow roses to embellish the cake with, Mrs. Montrose. But we will understand if you’d rather not.”

“Oh, I’d be delighted, Calliope!” Dora Montrose exclaimed with delight. “You may have as many roses as you like. Take them all if you need them. Goodness knows they’ll only end up in a vase on my kitchen table or witherin’ away if you don’t use them up. If you’re plannin’ on mid-June for the weddin’, my roses will be at their best just about then. Oh, this all sounds so delightful!”

“Have you chosen a groom yet?” Blanche’s mother, Judith Gardener, asked.

Evangeline and Calliope exchanged nervous glances.

“Well, in truth,” Evangeline began. She looked to Ellen Ackerman, sitting next to her daughter, Sallie. “We…well, we were hoping you might be able to convince
Warren to be the groom, Mrs. Ackerman.”

Every woman in Dora Montrose’s parlor burst into merriment and laughter.

“Oh, I’d pay good money to see little Warren Ackerman cleaned up and wearin’ a swallowtail suit coat!” Dora squealed with delight.

“Are we to understand that it might be a bit difficult to convince your son, Warren, to play the groom, Ellen?” Josephine Chesterfield inquired.

Again everyone laughed as Ellen said, “Like shovin’ a live rooster into a cannin’ bottle, most likely.”

“Really?” Calliope asked with sudden disappointment, for she knew that, although Shay always pretended not to like Warren Ackerman, in truth she was sweeter on him than ants were to sugar.

Recognizing Calliope’s thoroughgoing disenchantment, Ellen answered, “Oh, don’t you worry a whit, Calliope. Warren will be the groom. His daddy and I will make certain that he will be.”

“We were also going to ask if we might hold the wedding in your barn, Mrs. Ackerman,” Evangeline ventured. “It’s the perfect venue, and everyone in town is used to gatherings there.”

“Of course you can hold it in our barn,” Ellen assured her. “Oh, this will be somethin’ to behold, won’t it?”

“Is there anythin’ we can help with?” Pauline Chesterfield inquired. “I know we’re too old to actually be
in
the play, but Callie and me can help with sewin’ or decoratin’ or anything else you need.”

“Oh, thank you, Pauline! There is so much to be done in preparing everything, we would be so grateful for your help,” Evangeline graciously thanked Pauline.

“And I think your brothers, Willis and Albert, would be perfect ushers,” Calliope said. “And Lena, did you say she’s eight years old? She’d be a wonderful bridesmaid.”

“My Eva plays the violin,” Mrs. Chesterfield offered unexpectedly. She blushed when everyone in the room looked to her. “I-I mean, if you’re needin’ a musician of any kind. She’s very good, and I’m sure it would be easier to have a violin for music than tryin’ to get a piano out to Ellen’s barn. Wouldn’t it?”

Calliope leapt to her feet with sudden inspiration. “Oh yes, yes! Violin music would be perfect. Can’t you just see it, Evie? Little Shay coming down the aisle with violin music playing the bridal chorus. But wait! Previous to Shay’s entrance, someone should sing ‘Oh, Promise Me’ once the ushers have seated the guests.”

“
My Natalie could do that! She has a lovely voice,” Ellen Ackerman exclaimed.

“Oh, she does,” Sallie added. “And she’s only nine—young enough to be in the play, right, Calliope?”

“Perfectly young enough,” Calliope giggled with delight.

“We should be writing this down,” Evangeline noted. She reached into her sewing basket, retrieved a paper and pencil, and began scribbling.

“Well then,” Calliope said as she began to pace back and forth across Dora Montrose’s parlor, “Evie and I worked out colors, fabrics, flowers, cakes, and refreshments. We cast Shay as the bride, of course. And, Mrs. Ackerman, you’re certain you can coax Warren into being the groom?”

“He’ll be the groom, Calliope. I promise,” Ellen answered with a smile and twinkling eyes.

“Wonderful!” Calliope exclaimed, clasping her hands together with one loud clap. “Then we’ve got Natalie singing, Eva and her violin for music, Willis and Albert as ushers, Lena as a bridesmaid.” She frowned a moment and then said, “We need a maid of honor, perhaps one more bridesmaid, a groomsman, a boy of about twelve to be the clergyman.” She turned to look at Blanche and her mother. “Do you think Nigel would be willing to be the clergyman, Mrs. Gardener?”

Judith Gardener smiled, nodded, and said, “Yes. I think once Ellen has convinced
Warren to be the groom, Nigel will want to be front and center to witness it!”

Everyone giggled, amused by the notion of the boys in Meadowlark Lake being put through the pomp and circumstance of a Tom Thumb wedding.

“What about flower girls?” Dora asked. “We simply must have flower girls.”

“Maybe Mr. Longfellow will allow Mamie and Effie to be flower girls,” Evangeline suggested. “They’ve just turned three years old
, and wouldn’t they be perfect? Little twins as they are?”

Everyone was quiet for a moment
, exchanging worried glances.

Calliope doubted for a moment, as well—doubted that Mr. Longfellow would let Mamie and Effie out of his sight long enough to be prepared to be flower girls. She sighed, thinking how sad it all was. Floyd Longfellow
, Dex Longfellow’s father, had lost Dex’s mother when Dex was just a toddler. Years and years later, when Dex was already in adolescence, Mr. Longfellow had found love again with a beautiful young woman from the next county. They’d married, and for a time Mr. Longfellow’s heart was healed. But his young bride died in childbirth, leaving him alone once more, this time with twin daughters to care for.

As an understandable result, Floyd Longfellow kept watch over his twin girls, Mamie and Effie, like no one Calliope had ever seen. Oh
, the girls played and attended church and things, but only when Floyd or Dex was present. Naturally, the girls were very young—far too young to be on their own. But the entire citizenship of Meadowlark Lake knew Floyd’s fear for his daughters’ well-being was so obsessive it was perhaps unhealthy for the girls at times.

“I know what everyone’s thinking,” Evangeline said, proceeding carefully. “But I’m sure Calliope and I can convince Mr. Longfellow into allowing the girls
to participate. We can assure him that he or Dex can come with them to rehearsals. And of course, we’ll make their dresses. He won’t have to worry about that at all.”

Dora was the first to speak up in support of the idea. “I think we should at least try. It would be so
lovely, two little twin girls as flower girls. And perhaps it would help Floyd as well—to see that his friends in Meadowlark care for his children and want to include them in all the town events.”

Judith Gard
ener said, “I agree. Perhaps if we feed the idea to him slowly, with lots of reassurance…well, I’m certain we can convince him to allow it, especially if he or Dex is with them.”

Winnie giggled. “I’m not so sure Fox will like the idea of Dex being at every rehearsal
—if Calliope’s there, as well.”

Calliope blushed, but not with delight. Why on earth did everyone assume that she and Fox Montrose someday being a couple was already a forgone conclusion?