Cynthia Cartier - Wings

When they were lined up in the foyer, the bridesmaids were handed their bouquets and then Joy Lynn’s big, strapping cousins escorted them down the aisle. None of the wedding party wore a stitch of cotton candy chiffon. The Southern guests were another story—there, the hair was high, the hats were big, and the dresses were so sweet and full you could smell the sugar.

At the front of the church the girls left their escorts and Marina led Calli, Louise and Liddy to the bride’s side of the platform. They took their places on the steps and then stood in their sky blue satin dresses like angels guarding the gates of heaven.

When the first note of Here Comes the Bride was played on the organ, Liddy was looking at Alan in the pews and he was smiling at her with his whole face. On her daddy’s arm, Joy Lynn came floating down the aisle. Phillip’s smile was as big as Alan’s, and Liddy couldn’t decide who looked happier.

Her Navy pilot groom took Joy Lynn’s hand and guided her up the stairs where the preacher was waiting. Phillip never took his eyes off of his bride and he had her full attention. The couple towered over the little roly-poly preacher—you wouldn’t have known he was standing there if you hadn’t heard his voice. His drawl was so heavy that the yanks in the crowd couldn’t understand a word that was being said behind the happy couple. Marina started giggling, which got the other bridesmaids giggling so hard that their bouquets shook and lost some blooms.

After Joy Lynn and Phillip were pronounced man and wife, they kissed for a good-long-time and then walked down the stairs and down the aisle. Liddy looked at Alan as the wedding party followed the couple out of the church and was happy to be sharing this day with him.

Carla Vanell was among the guests, as were many of the ‘retired’ WASPs, including Jenna who was with her husband, Major Ellis Charles. Liddy hadn’t seen Jenna since they had said goodbye at New Castle. A few letters had been exchanged that were heavy with the sorrow of losing their wings. Then, when Ellis was stationed back in the states, and Liddy was trying to make a life, the letters were clouds that kept growing darker. When she saw them sitting together, it brought back a flash of Reid and it swayed Liddy for a moment, but she thought of Alan and kept walking.

The wedding reception was held on the lawn between the big house and the Hoochee-Coochee River as Marina called it. A glowing white tent had been erected and Geoffrey had it draped with white satin and garlands of laurel and magnolia leaves. The garlands were trimmed with white roses and white magnolia blossoms. In the center, a dance floor of white oak planks had been laid and sanded.

The band was playing when the guests arrived from the church, and the floor filled immediately. The music didn’t stop unless a toast was being made, or the cake was being cut. Even then, the twelve piece band tooted and hit a rim to emphasize the high points.

Two decadent buffets lined the ends of the tent and both were piled high with Southern delicacies like mounds of marinated mussels, crayfish pie and little fried cakes made with everything from crab to black-eyed peas. Drinks with names like Savannah Knee Knockers and Tizzy Dizzies were served off of pretty silver trays, and champagne was passed for the toasts.

Soon after the guests had arrived, Joy Lynn’s daddy took to the floor with a full glass and choked out a tribute to his oldest daughter, “To my baby girl, I wish ya’all the happiness the good Lord can rain down from heaven, I love ya’, dahlin’.” And then he looked straight at Phillip and said, “Welcome to the family, Son. They’s uh mess uh eyes uh watchin’ ya’ boy, keep the view rosy and sweet for my baby now, ya hear.” And then he flashed a big grin at Phillip who looked like someone was tugging on his crotch. The big man raised his glass to finish, “To Lieutenant and Mrs. Phillip R. Mason, live happy and love big.”

The tent filled with cheers and the sound of glass clinking, and Daddy Calbert walked to the newlyweds’ table and gave his daughter a great big hug. And with his Big Daddy smile, he squeezed his son-in-law’s hand long and firm. Then he smacked the side of his shoulder, and Phillip winced.

Alan leaned over, kissed Liddy on the cheek and said, “I know how the poor guy feels.”

The toasts got bigger as they were given-up around the room until Joy Lynn stood up with her glass and said, “Okay, dahlins, that’s enough. Anyone who hasn’t felt enough of a Calbert breeze can join my daddy down by the river. I want to dance.” And she grabbed her groom and swept him into the center of the room, and the band played.

Liddy and Alan danced with each other and then they danced with everyone else. Then Liddy took a break and enjoyed watching Alan as he was passed back and forth between Joy Lynn’s sisters, aunts, cousins and every other female, from those who had just started to walk to those who were just about to give up the skill.

Liddy especially loved when the little belles jumped into Alan’s arms and he twirled them across the floor, or when they climbed onto his perfectly shined, very expensive shoes and he’d shuffle them along. When Alan and Marina coupled James Lee with one of the tiniest of the Southern belles and guided them back and forth in a little waltz, the dance floor cleared and the little couple received a standing ovation when they finished.

Marina’s New York Lawyer seemed a little bored, or was it appalled? It was hard to tell. Still, he sat with Liddy and Louise and tried his best to make small talk. The music played on and the food and drinks kept coming.

Calbert energy was given away like it was water, and it ran through the room like the rush of the Hoochee-Coochee after a big storm. Whether a guest wanted to or not, the Calberts took it as their personal mission to make sure every last one was having big fun. To anyone not from the South, you couldn’t help but want to convert when you saw how seriously they took living.

The newlyweds snuck off sometime after midnight, the musicians packed up and the tent started to clear an hour or so after that. Most of the guests had left, were leaving, or were incapable of leaving. Joy Lynn’s Uncle Johnnie was sprawled out underneath one of the buffet tables. He was missing his shoes and socks and his mama, Granny Calbert, pulled the table cloth down so no one would notice.

Alan was up on the porch of the big house smoking cigars and listening to the grand talk that only fine Southern gentlemen can offer. The Calbert men had taken him under their wing and were bent on teaching the city slicker about hunting, fishing and how to make the big deal.

Louise was sleeping peacefully on the wicker swing that hung from the big oak tree. Calli’s Stephen did get home in time, and James Lee’s mommy and daddy were savoring their reunion alone on the dance floor. Liddy cradled their sleepy toddler in her arms, while his parents swayed to the chirp of crickets and the croak of the river frogs. Marina’s chin was perched on Liddy’s shoulder and she softly sang, “Mairzy doats and dozy doats and liddle lamzy divey, a kiddley divey too, wouldn’t you?” to try and get James Lee to give it up, but it was Liddy who was lulled by the tune. Her eyes drifted shut and her mind was floating when she heard someone say her name. Liddy looked up and saw Jenna and Ellis.

“Hi, I didn’t know you were still here,” said Liddy and she widened her eyes to focus. “Did you have a good time?”

“Very nice,” said Jenna.

“It was great that you could make it,” said Liddy, “You know Joy Lynn, the more the merrier. It meant a lot to her that you were here.”

“We wouldn’t have missed it,” Jenna grabbed Ellis’ hand and leaned against his side. “We’re just getting ready to go, but could we talk to you before we leave?”