Lenoir

Saying Goodbye

The wedding and reception were both in a quaint little white church in Maryland near Baltimore. Clarence had chosen it because it was where he faithfully attended. In fact he had helped to build the church, just down the road from the store where he sold mostly supplies to pioneers heading west on the Oregon and California trails. Brian, his shop boy ran the store during the ceremony, it never closed except Sunday for church.

The bride and groom cut a three tiered white frosted cake and shared it among the two dozen or so happy guests. Mostly long time customers, friends, family and business associates of the groom. There were bankers, and lawyers that had been friends of his father's and still hung around the old money like leaches looking for blood. A local politician was present, as was his lovely wife. One older lady, maybe 30, with blonde hair, in a dress that was catching eyes, insinuated to Lenoir over her slice of cake that Lenoir had stolen one of the best local eligible batchelors. It sounded like she had had her eyes set on Clarence and was disappointed.

Clarence had not been present when Lenoir and Claudia met. He was slapping backs and smoking cigars like they had already had their first born. A glass of top shelf whiskey in his big hand.

One of the men was cracking a joke and Clarence laughed, looking towards his wife and checking on her company. He looked briefly troubled then resumed with the celebration. The shine in his eyes said he was getting drunk. It took quite a bit of whiskey to faze a big man like him.

He thought he had recognized Claudia for a second, but then the blonde turned into the crowd of guests and he was unsure. Of course she had not been invited. Perhaps it was someone who looked like her and he was just feeling guilty, a case of mistaken identity. He didn't even think Claudia knew about Lenoir or the wedding.

A few people played instruments and they danced. Clarence was polite and proud, even somewhat handsome in his dark suit. He had slicked back his dirty blonde hair and trimmed his mustache. But the polish on his shoes couldn't hide the scuffs. And the charm in his speech couldn't hide how he spoke of his new bride like a new award on his mantel.

He had been raised in the Cumberland area, born in a humble cabin in 1809. His father had been a shopkeeper as well, mostly serving a hardworking industrial neighborhood.

Clarence had moved to Baltimore in his 20s, establishing his own shop with the help of his father. He ran it with a tight schedule and tidy profit. When his father passed away and his mother had him help her sell the estate, his wallet and ego were further padded. He had been left most of the large inheritance, while his sister and her tragically annoying husband had been left their elderly disabled mother and her worthless tiny dog.

Yes, Clarence George II seemed like a perfectly settled, well spoken, and upper class gentleman as far as the bride's father, William Town, was concerned. He figured they would soon have children he could bounce on his knee and a local legacy. His daughter would be well cared for and he could get on with his life. He wouldn't even write because he had never taught her to read.

Ingrid and Hesther were crowded around their sister, wiping their eyes with handkerchiefs and trying to be well behaved. Their father's temper could be cruel and patient. They didn't want to be an embarrassment to the family in front of Clarence's upperclass associates.

"Will we ever see you again?" Ingrid whimpered.

"It may be some time. But of course. " Lenoir assured her. Not having any idea when she might see any of her family or friends again.

"I wish you weren't leaving." Hesther said glumly and squeezed her hand.

"You're the big sister of the house now, Hesther," she squeezed back, "protect Ingrid. Be a dutiful daughter."

Hesther nodded and wondered how long her father would wait before finding her a husband. She hoped she had a few more years, even though living with her moody father was painful at times. She had dreams that some prince would come to rescue her soon. Marrying for love was a favorite fantasy for a teenage girl.

"Don't forget us." Ingrid burried her face into her sister's hair and hugged her.

"I couldn't. " Lenoir hugged her tight.

With a few more tears and bitter sweet goodbyes, Clarence wished his guests farewell, took the elbow of his bride and escorted her to his wagon.

The wagon team was composed of eight black horses, strung in harmonious order like musical notes. Their harness was polished and shining in the sunlight. As their hoofbeats faded into the noise of the road the guests said their goodbyes to each other and departed as well.

Overall, both Clarence and Lenoir were pleased with how smoothly the ceremony and reception had gone. Lenoir was giddy after such a faerie tail affair. Clarence was proud of how well the wedding made him look to the community. Not to mention he was looking forward to the honeymoon. The thought sobered him some on the way home, as did the cold of the night air.

Lenoir shivered and put her shawl over her head and around her shoulders. She couldn't wait to see what her new home looked like inside. She had never actually gone in.