FORTY-FOUR
Ryan
Six Months Later
As seated guests waited anxiously for the bride to appear in the vast yard of Willow’s grandmother’s upstate property, I stood under the bough of the majestic willow tree where Willow Rosenthal and I would soon be exchanging our vows. The very tree under which we’d made love for the first time and on which I’d inscribed an eternal heart with our initials back in the fall. The heart that sat next to the one her father had inscribed three decades earlier.
The early June day couldn’t have been more perfect. The temperature was in the mid-seventies and the sun shined brightly in the clear blue sky. The sound of birds chirping accompanied the harpist, who was playing Vivaldi’s melodic Four Seasons. My heart thudding with anticipation, I watched as my adorable five-year-old niece, Violet, walked down the flower-lined aisle holding a basket from which she tossed purple petals everywhere. Dressed in a poufy ankle-length white tulle dress with a violet sash and a matching band of flowers around her head, the radiant little beauty already walked with the grace of a ballerina.
My ballerina bride would be here soon. The procession started at the lake and it would be a few minutes until she arrived with her father. Standing under the tree with my sister’s spouse Beth, a Universal Life Church minister, who was going to marry us, I took in our guests.
We had decided on a small, intimate wedding, but everyone near and dear to us was here. In the front row, my mother was sitting next to my sister and to the right of her was my father in his wheelchair looking the best I’d seen him look since his stroke. Over the last six months we’d grown much closer, and to both my mother’s joy and mine, he had made amends with my sister. Thrilled to have a grandpa, little Violet smiled brightly at him as she passed him. My father shot a smile back, their exchange warming my heart on this special day.
Another reconciliation had taken place over the past six months. While Willow was convalescing from her accident at the one-story flat we rented so she didn’t have to climb stairs, her grandma had come down to visit her. Willow’s near-death encounter miraculously erased the grudge the matriarch held toward Mel. While Willow’s mom would never be part of their lives again, both menschy Mel and good-hearted Ida were united by the near-loss of their beloved Willow. Over a plateful of Ryan Madewell sandwiches at Mel’s deli, memories were exchanged and a new bond was forged. The future. Later that night over champagne, I finally gave Willow her real engagement ring…it was the diamond ring Mel had given his late wife when he proposed to her. Mel wanted Willow to have it and though I could have certainly have afforded something much grander, this ring with its small square solitaire diamond was special. The happy tears my Willow had shed as I slipped it on her finger filled my mind as I eagerly awaited her, my eyes still flitting among our guests.
Behind my parents and my sister sat my best bud Duffy and his beautiful wife Sam along with their adorable three-month-old baby, Zeke—my godson. Others seated in the white folding chairs included Nurse Hollis, who was officially Mel’s “gal” as he liked to call her. Mel’s loyal employees were also here along with some longtime customers, including that curmudgeon I’d made a sandwich for the first day I met my beautiful wife-to-be. His name was Gus, and it turned out he used to frequent Willow’s grandparents’ hotel with his late wife back in the day. He’d always thought that Willow’s grandma was the cat’s meow and now he was sitting next to her, holding her hand. There was definitely magic in the air.
Some of my former staffers from Arts & Smarts were also here along with my agent, Paula, and our therapist, Dr. Goodman and his wife. Last but not least, Marcus was here, seated next to my beloved nannie, Maria. It meant the world to me that my esteemed former driver had flown in from Detroit to share my special day. Just a little over five years ago he had walked my beloved Allee to me in Central Park. The memory of that day flashed into my mind, and for a split-second, sadness pricked me. But as soon as I saw my stunning new bride heading toward me on the arm of her father, the memory faded and happiness filled me.
All eyes were on her as she slowly walked down the aisle with her beaming and now fifty-pounds thinner father. My eyes, too, stayed riveted on her. Meeting my gaze, a smile crossed her lips. She looked absolutely gorgeous…dressed in a long strapless white tulle gown that resembled Violet’s and a band of white flowers circling her loose, wild red hair. She had vowed to walk down the aisle with her father, and after months of crutches, physical therapy, and pure determination, here she was. She still had a slight limp, but in time that would go away. Nothing was going to stop our union. Nothing.
Several rapid heartbeats later, I took her into my arms and then held her hand as we both faced Beth. My pounding heart leapt into my throat as Beth began the service.
Rather than writing our own vows like I had with Allee, Willow and I decided we wanted Beth to tell our story. To share with our families and friends the story of a second chance romance—one that was filled with heartbreak and hope…of finding true love again where you least expected it. In a deli of all places. Laughter erupted and I squeezed Willow’s hand as Beth continued.
As the laughter died down, I inhaled a deep breath. It was vow time.
Except for the chirping birds and a few sniffles among our guests, there was silence.
Beth: “Do you, Willow Rosenthal, promise to love Ryan Madewell in sickness and in health until death do you part?
“I do.” Willow’s voice was as soft as a prayer.
My turn. My heart was racing and my stomach knotted. Beth repeated the words she’d just said to Willow.
“Do you, Ryan Madewell, promise…”
In sickness and in health…until death do you part. The words whirled around in my head and nausea rose in my chest. My hands grew clammy.
What if Willow died young? All too soon like Allee? I didn’t think I could ever recover again. Even live. I’d discussed this morbid fear with Dr. Goodman ad nauseam, both alone and in couples sessions with Willow. Both of them assured me I had nothing to worry about. Willow even said she possessed her Nana’s good genes and would likely be dancing when she was a hundred. Or more. But there was still the possibility of a fatal accident…
At this critical moment, this profound fear rammed into me like a freight train. I was paralyzed. I couldn’t get my mouth to move and say two little words.
“Well?” The raspy voice trailed off as my eyes grew wide.
Allee! She was here!! Standing right next to Beth, wearing that white gauzy gown I’d seen before.
Her arms folded across her chest, she rolled her espresso-bean eyes at me. “Madewell, whatch’ya waiting for? All you have to do is say, ‘I do.’”
My jaw dropped open.
Her expression softened. “Madewell, do it. Do it for me.”
The two little words spilled out slowly, one at a time. “I do.”
With Allee looking on, Willow and I exchanged rings. Simple platinum bands, each engraved with a heart and our initials much like the carving on the tree trunk. As Beth pronounced us husband and wife, a butterfly flew by us and that dazzling smile, one I would never forget, spread across Allee’s full lips.
“Congratulations, Golden Boy.” She gave me a thumbs-up and then disappeared as Beth pronounced us husband and wife.
Amidst cheers and applause from our guests, I took my beautiful new wife into my arms and gave her a passionate, all-consuming kiss that I wanted never to end.
Soon, I’d be swaying her in my arms to the song we’d chosen for our first dance We’d sifted through so many, but none of them made more sense than one. I think she chose it for us. It was the song that connected the three of us, made me think of the past, the present, and the future. The song that had given me hope and made me whole again.
“I Won’t Give Up.”