The Wedding - By Nicholas Sparks Page 0,71

a moment later, we pulled into the drive and Jane roused herself with a weary smile.

“Sorry about being so quiet. I guess I’m sort of tired.”

“It’s okay. It’s been a big week.”

I brought her suitcase inside, watching as she dropped her purse on the table near the door.

“Would you like some wine?” I asked.

Jane yawned and shook her head. “No, not tonight. If I had a glass, I think I’d fall asleep. I’d love a glass of water, though.”

In the kitchen, I filled two glasses with ice and water from the refrigerator. She took a long drink, then leaned against the counter and propped one leg against the cupboards behind her in her habitual pose.

“My feet are killing me. We barely stopped for a minute all day. Anna looked at a couple hundred dresses before she found the right one. And actually, Leslie was the one who pulled it off the rack. I think she was getting desperate by then—Anna’s got to be one of the most indecisive people I’ve ever met.”

“What’s it like?”

“Oh, you should see her in it. It’s one of those mermaid-style dresses, and it really flatters her figure. It’s still got to be fitted, but Keith’s going to love it.”

“I’ll bet she looks beautiful.”

“She does.” By her dreamy expression, I knew she was seeing it again. “I’d show you, but Anna doesn’t want you to see it until the weekend. She wants it to be a surprise.” She paused. “So how did it go on your end? Did anyone show up at the house?”

“Everyone,” I said, filling her in on the details of the morning.

“Amazing,” she said, refilling her glass. “Considering it’s so last minute, I mean.”

From the kitchen, we could see the sliding glass windows that led to the deck. The light outside had dimmed under the thickening clouds, and the first drops of rain began to hit the window, lightly at first. The river was gray and ominous; a moment later, there was a flash of light followed by the crackling of thunder, and the downpour began in earnest. Jane turned toward the windows as the storm unleashed its fury.

“Do you know if it’s going to rain on Saturday?” she asked. Her voice, I thought, was surprisingly calm; I expected her to be more anxious. I thought of her peacefulness in the car, and I realized she hadn’t said a word about Noah’s presence at the pond. Watching her, I had the strange sense that her mood had something to do with Anna.

“It’s not supposed to,” I said. “They’re forecasting clear skies. This is supposed to be the last of the showers passing through.”

Silently we stared at the falling rain together. Aside from the gentle patter of water, all was quiet. There was a faraway look in Jane’s eyes, and the ghost of a smile played on her lips.

“It’s lovely, isn’t it?” she asked. “Watching the rain? We used to do that at my parents’ house, remember? When we’d sit on the porch?”

“I remember.”

“It was nice, wasn’t it?”

“Very.”

“We haven’t done this in a long time.”

“No,” I said, “we haven’t.”

She seemed lost in thought, and I prayed that this newfound sense of calm wouldn’t give way to the familiar sadness I had come to dread. Yet her expression didn’t change, and after a long moment, she glanced at me.

“Something else happened today,” she said, looking down at her glass.

“Oh?”

Looking up again, she met my eyes. They seemed to be sparkling with unshed tears.

“I won’t be able to sit with you at the wedding.”

“You won’t?”

“I can’t,” she said. “I’ll be up front with Anna and Keith.”

“Why?”

Jane brought her hand to the glass. “Because Anna asked me to be her matron of honor.” Her voice cracked a little. “She said she was closer to me than to anyone, and that I’d done so much for her and the wedding. . . .” She blinked rapidly and gave a small sniff. “I know it’s silly, but I was just so surprised when she asked me that I barely knew what to say. The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. She was so sweet when she asked, like it really meant something to her.”

She swiped at her tears, and I felt a tightness in my throat. Asking a father to be best man was fairly typical in the South, but it was rare for a mother to act as matron of honor.

“Oh, sweetheart,” I murmured. “That’s wonderful. I’m so happy for you.”

Lightning was followed by thunder again, though they