Daughters of the Lake(50)
And she had never seen Addie look more radiant than in Jess’s company—that was real, tangible, and undeniable.
“I’ll always be here for you to talk to,” Marie said to Addie one evening. “Especially about your dreams. Please promise me you’ll heed their warnings.”
“I will,” Addie promised.
There was another reason for the hasty marriage, and everyone in town knew what it was. Phil Stewart, Jess’s father, was not in good health. In fact, he was dying. Cancer was taking his life, but nobody knew that, then. The townsfolk simply knew that he was seriously ill and becoming more so with every passing day. Jess was grateful that he had indeed listened to his mother and come home on the train.
Between the time Jess proposed to Addie that night at the social hall and their wedding day, six weeks hence, Jess left for the city to put his affairs in order. He needed to find a suitable place to live—a bride and, someday, a family required more space than did a single man. He also needed to spread the news of his engagement to his closest friends in town and especially to his employer, a traditional sort who was eager for all young men in his employ to find a wife and set up housekeeping.
It also meant the unpleasant business of breaking the news to Sally Reade, whose wrath proved to be surprisingly vehement. He had taken her to a restaurant, thinking the public setting would make things easier. He was wrong about this. It hadn’t helped matters that she was giddy and keyed up when he arrived at her door. But later, when he squeaked out the fact that he had proposed to another woman, Sally reacted with a stunned silence—Oh, thank God, Jess had thought—but then, to his utter embarrassment, it mutated into a fierce rage. Before he was able to usher her out of the room, she threw every one of the plates on their table at him, shrieking obscenities, much to the horror of their fellow diners. She cried all the way home in the cab.
After he saw Sally to her front door—and had it slammed in his face—Jess took a deep breath and looked toward the future.
His company was based in the city, but upon news of his engagement, the owner presented Jess with an opportunity to accompany him in setting up an office in the small bayside town of Wharton. Jess suspected that it was an effort by the company’s well-heeled boss to distance this new star employee from the unfortunate Sally Reade business, which, by now, was all over town. Jess was relieved. Beyond escaping Sally’s immediate social circles, which would no doubt be closed to him and his new wife, the job itself provided an opportunity for advancement, one that Jess would not turn down.
While he loved the city, Jess found that he was enchanted by Wharton, with its warm winter winds and charming houses with large front porches and backyard gardens. He walked through the streets and thought of how much Addie would love this town. It was an easy sort of life, not a large, thriving city, which might have intimidated and even frightened her, but it was much more cosmopolitan than the tiny community of their birth. A perfect balance. Best of all, it was located on her beloved lake. He had fretted about how she would adjust to life without that massive body of water in her view, and now it was a moot point. What a wonderful place in which to start anew.
Jess bought a white wooden house with an enormous front porch that overlooked the harbor. It wasn’t the grandest home in town, but it was a highly suitable residence for a young businessman and his new bride. He furnished it modestly, knowing that Addie would want to tend to the details later, herself.
Addie and Jess were married in Great Bay on a snowy December afternoon as the sun was setting on the tiny church on the main street. Heavy, wet snow had fallen the night before, draping the streets and the houses and the enormous pine trees that lined the street like sentries in a blanket of white. The wedding-eve snowstorm had Addie and her mother fretting late into the night, peering out of the icy windowpanes of their home, wondering if the snow would let up in time for guests to arrive at the church the next day.
Marie, Addie, and several of the local women had worked tirelessly creating the perfect wedding dress—just six weeks between engagement and wedding hadn’t left them much time. Marie ordered the fabric from Minneapolis the very day Addie announced her engagement, and when it finally arrived, wrapped in brown paper, the ladies of the town began meeting, usually at Marie’s large kitchen table, and sewed all day, every day until the dimming light forced them to stop their careful work each evening.
As the sun was setting on their wedding day, townsfolk bundled up in their scarves, boots, and woolen overcoats for the walk to the church. Those who lived farther outside of town arrived on snowshoes and by sleigh; the Carlsons even hitched up the dogsled for the trip from their farm.
When the candles were lit in the church, Addie walked down the aisle on her father’s arm in a long off-white dress decorated with pure-white embroidery on both the skirt and bodice. A wide satin ribbon at the waist and bustle in the back accentuated her tiny waistline. Dressed in white, with her deep-auburn hair cascading around her face and her violet eyes shining, Addie Cassatt looked like an angel.
Her happiness was evident to all who witnessed it, no more so than to Jess Stewart himself, who was struck by the sight of the woman who was walking, no, floating, toward him. He was used to seeing Addie in the simple, practical cotton dresses worn by the hard-working wives of the fishermen in this town. Even dressed in those usual rags, Addie was stunning. But now, in this finery . . . Jess caught his breath and thanked God for his good fortune. He might have lost her in the pursuit of a more “suitable” wife. Instead, he would be the husband of a woman he truly adored and the envy of every man in town.