Grace in Strange Disguise

Chapter 6

6

April 1995

The wedding was now only four months away. Nick and Esther needed every minute of their nine-month engagement.

They’d started by plodding through the major decisions like date and reception venue. Finding a date had been a nightmare, as her father was usually booked eighteen months in advance. He’d vetoed every reception centre they’d considered until he’d had a brain wave and suggested the church side halls. Few reception centres could match their new decor. That decision took the pressure off confirming numbers, and the job list became more of a waltz than a plod, a matter of finding caterers, then enjoying the fun decisions like colours, flowers, and music.

Esther might not have any married siblings, but her parents had organised dozens of weddings. Together they made a great team and she’d come to appreciate them in a new way.

Mid-Sunday afternoon was one of the few times they could find for preparation. Every week her parents invited Nick to come for a late lunch, during the brief lull before the busyness of two evening services. Dad would take the first one, and she and Nick helped with the second. Today they planned to work on the final guest list and the wedding invitations.

Nick placed a towel on top of the highly polished surface of the cedar dining table. Then he positioned Esther’s laptop, opened a new file and headed it, ‘Wedding Guests’. Esther perched beside him on a matching upholstered balloon-back chair, her hand resting on Nick’s shoulder.

Poor Nick had braved several nervous months before he’d adjusted himself to the formality of their dining and living areas, with their cream carpets and Persian rugs in maroon and gold. At least now he remembered not to tilt back on his chair and strain its antique legs.

Her father sat behind them in the leather lounge chair doing his crossword. Her mother stitched the hem of her mother-of-the-bride dress in the nook of the bow window. Why couldn’t her parents go away so she could put her arms around Nick? Since her parents never showed affection in public, she hesitated to do so in front of them.

Had Nick guessed her thoughts? He turned his head, smiled a secret smile and winked before typing the headers for each column of his file. “Okay, I’ve made various columns so we can keep track of those who accept or reject their invitations. I’ve already thought through my list of priority guests, so I’ll type those in first.”

He muttered as he typed. “Mum … Grandma and grandpa one, grandma two … brother one and his wife … brother two and his girlfriend … six uncles and six aunts and ten cousins. I’ll type their names in later.”

Esther jotted her own list of names inside the leather-bound scrapbook she’d bought to preserve all her wedding memories. These days of preparation sometimes blurred together, but one day, when she was old and grey, she wanted to be able to turn the pages and treasure the memories. Maybe she’d do so with her own daughter.

Nick typed his final name. “I’ve got plenty of relatives but not so many workmates and other friends. Most of them are already at Victory.” He glanced across at her father. “Besides, I’ve been working so hard, I’ve been a bit cut off from old friends.”

“Completely natural, Nick,” her father said. “What about you, Esther? How many workmates and friends are you thinking of asking?”

“My boss, Sue, is a definite but I’d better ask the whole department. If I only ask one or two I’m sure to insult somebody.” She checked her scrapbook. “I also have five uni friends I want to ask, but two are bridesmaids anyway.”

“Can you start by giving me your workmates’ names?” Nick asked.

Esther stood and leaned over Nick’s shoulder and briefly put her hand on top of his.

“Are you trying to distract me?” he whispered with a cheeky half-grin.

Esther put her mouth next to his ear. “Would love to, but we’d better get this done.” More loudly she said, “Sue, Alan, Jane, Mark.” Esther paused between each name so Nick could keep up. “Richard, Jen, and Jeannine—that’s the outpatient group. Then there are about eight others outside the physio department who I’m close to.”

Nick’s fingers tapped on the keyboard. “You’ll have to find me their addresses once we’re ready to send out invitations.”

“No need. I’ll hand them out at work.” Esther sighed with enough breath to blow Nick’s hair.

“What was that loud sigh for?”

Esther straightened up but kept a hand on each of Nick’s shoulders. “Hearing you list all of your relatives makes me realise how few I have. Mum’s parents are both dead, and she isn’t in contact with any other family members.” If only she had a sister. Someone to journey through life with. Someone to giggle and cry with. All her life, Esther had daydreamed about having a sister.

“What about your other grandparents?” Nick asked.

Her father interjected, “My father’s dead—”

Esther leaned forward to lay a warning hand on Nick’s arm but she was too slow.

“And your mother?”

Esther stifled an anxious hiss. Would the question lead to an angry outburst from her father? She’d forgotten to warn Nick. She herself hadn’t dared to raise this topic since she was in primary school.

Back then she’d writhed in embarrassment at the annual ‘Grandparents’ Day’. She never had a guest. No grandparent to look smug and applaud her accomplishments. No one to make her look normal. No one, year after year. When she was eight she’d finally raised the topic. She’d never forgotten her father’s voice of steel, a voice that said the topic was never to be mentioned again.

Now Nick had strayed onto f*******n ground. She held her breath. Would her father be as angry at Nick as he’d been with her in the past? If so, it would be the first time Nick had earned her father’s displeasure.

“You don’t want to invite my mother. We don’t have anything to do with her.”

Esther peered over her shoulder at her father. His jaw was clenched. With small issues he was all sweetness, but with some things he’d dig in his heels. As a child she hadn’t always known what issues to avoid. But she’d learned to skirt around the dangerous swamps of work, reputation and family background.

It had been years since she’d even remembered she had a grandmother. Suddenly it mattered.

“Dad, wouldn’t a wedding be a chance for a new start?”

Her father laid aside his crossword pencil. “Believe me, my mother is incapable of new starts. If you want your wedding wrecked, go ahead and ask her.”

How had her grandparent-less family become normal? Why? Nick seemed to be a restraining influence on her father. Maybe now it would be safe to do a little digging. “I’ve never met her. How terrible can she be?”

Her father continued to stare at the crossword page of the newspaper. “You didn’t grow up with her. She made my life miserable.” He snapped the paper closed, stood and grabbed his pencil. “If you need me, I’ll be in my study.”

Esther glanced at her mother near the bow window, keeping silent as she hemmed. Fat lot of good she’d ever be in an argument. Esther shelved the whole conversation to think about later and turned back to their planning. Their file consisted of three lists: the ‘definites’, the ‘perhapses’ and the ‘ask-only-if-other-people-can’t-come’.

Nick yawned. “We still need to finish looking at the samples of the wedding invitation designs and wording. We’re down to five choices. Let’s go line by line and try to narrow it down to two choices. Then your parents can have the casting vote.”

Nick was wise. Giving her parents the casting vote kept her father off her back. Not stirring up sleeping lions had become a habit.

“Mum, would I be right that Dad would prefer the formal, ‘Reverend Doctor William and Mrs Blanche Macdonald request the pleasure of your company’ rather than merely ‘Mr and Mrs’ or ‘William and Blanche Macdonald’?”

“Probably, but I could go and check.” Her mother got up and left the room. She returned so quickly she almost caught Esther sitting on Nick’s knee. They ploughed on with their task, determined to get it over with, and after another hour, they’d finally whittled their choices down to two. Nick stretched his arms up towards the ceiling. “Enough for today. My brother warned me to steer clear of wedding stuff.”

“Not having regrets, I hope.”

Nick pantomimed scratching his head and screwing up his face like an actor in a cheap melodrama. Esther giggled. She wasn’t worried about Nick backing out.

“No, sorry. You’re stuck with me. But I do wish there was less to do.”

“I know exactly what you mean. Want to go out for a quick walk? There’s time before the service.”

Although it was early, a crescent moon cruised through clusters of cloud, intermittently illuminating cloud edges to coffee and cream before disappearing. The deciduous trees rattled their almost leafless twigs. A cold breeze hinted of early snow on the distant mountains. Esther tugged her scarf up around her tingling ears and Nick’s warm hand encircled hers as they strolled round the block.

“I can’t believe Dad won’t let me ask Gina to be a bridesmaid.” Esther hadn’t really taken her father’s comments about choosing only beautiful bridesmaids seriously. Or maybe she hadn’t wanted to, because his words hinted at buried ugliness she didn’t want to confront.

“Does it matter?”

“I feel terrible every time I see Gina. She must have known she was a likely choice. How am I going to be able to explain it to her? I mean, I wanted to tell him no, but you know how he is.” Esther stopped walking and turned to look at Nick. “Doesn’t it bother you that Dad wants everyone to look perfect?”

“I’m sure he has his reasons.”

Now Nick seemed to be annoyed at her too.

“It’s not a beauty contest.”

“Look.” Nick tugged her arm. “This wedding is dominating everything at the moment. Is it possible to talk about something else for the next thirty minutes?”

The last thing she needed was to alienate Nick. Esther slipped her arm around Nick’s waist and leaned her head against him. “Oh, I think I can manage it.”

He chuckled. “About time.”

They meandered along the road for several minutes.

Nick put his arm around her shoulder and hugged her close. “Do you remember me mentioning the special apprenticeship with John Watson in Melbourne?”

“Vaguely,” Esther said. “Was he the guy who mentors preachers and church leaders?”

“Yes.” Nick stopped and looked at her. “Your father suggested I apply for it. What do you think?”

What did she think? She thought it was a terrible idea. “It’s a tremendous opportunity, but didn’t you say the first intake for the year was in September?”

Nick started to walk forward. “Yes, would that be a problem?”

The problem seemed obvious, considering they were getting married on the twenty-sixth of August. “September would be almost immediately after our honeymoon and you’d be away four days a week for over five months.”

“I don’t think you need to worry. Only ten are chosen, and most of those will be from overseas. It’s highly unlikely I’d win the scholarship the first time I applied.”

Esther resisted making an exaggerated sigh to show her relief. Winning the scholarship would mean so much to both her father and Nick. Whatever she personally thought about only seeing Nick on weekends, if he won, she’d have to lump it. He didn’t sound too confident of his chances and she wasn’t going to worry about something that might never happen. She squeezed his hand.

“Sure, go ahead and apply.”

They walked the last two hundred metres to her parents’ gate in silence. Nick probably thought about the scholarship but Esther thought about the wedding. Her mind simmered with awkward questions. Why was her Dad so insistent about Gina? Why had he cut off all contact with his mother? And would she dare to pursue answers, or would keeping the peace remain her habitual choice?