Summer Wedding Bells: Marriage Wanted / Lone Star Lovin'. Debbie Macomber
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to tell. Two weeks before I was scheduled to leave, I met Joyce at a dance.”
“Daddy, you left out the best part,” Savannah complained. “It wasn’t like the band was playing a number you enjoyed and you needed a partner.”
Her father chuckled. “You’re right about that. I’d gone to the dance with a couple of buddies. The evening hadn’t been going well.”
“I remember you’d been stood up,” Savannah inserted, eager to get to the details of their romance.
“No, dear,” her mother intervened, picking up the story, “that was me. So I was in no mood to be at any social function. The only reason I decided to go was to make sure Lenny Walton knew I hadn’t sat home mooning over him, but in reality I was at the dance mooning over him.”
“I wasn’t particularly keen on being at this dance, either,” Marcus added. “I thought, mistakenly, that we were going to play pool at a local hall. I’ve never been much of a dancer, but my buddies were. They disappeared onto the dance floor almost immediately. I was bored and wandered around the hall for a while. I kept looking at my watch, eager to be on my way.”
“As you can imagine, I wasn’t dancing much myself,” Joyce said.
“Then it happened.” Savannah pressed her palms together and leaned forward. “This is my favorite part,” she told Nash.
“I saw Joyce.” Her father’s voice dropped slightly. “When I first caught sight of her, my heart seized. I thought I might be having a reaction to the shots we’d been given earlier in the day. I swear I’d never seen a more beautiful woman. She wore this white dress and she looked like an angel. For a moment I was convinced she was.” He reached for her mother’s hand.
“I saw Marcus at that precise second, as well,” Joyce whispered. “My friends were chatting and their voices faded until the only sound I heard was the pounding of my own heart. I don’t remember walking toward him and yet I must have, because when I looked up Marcus was standing there.”
“The funny part is, I don’t remember moving, either.”
Savannah propped her elbows on the table, her dinner forgotten. This story never failed to move her, although she’d heard it dozens of times over the years.
“We danced,” her mother continued.
“All night.”
“We didn’t say a word. I think we must’ve been afraid the other would vanish if we spoke.”
“While we were on the dance floor I kept pinching myself to be sure this was real, that Joyce was real. It was like we were both in a dream. These sorts of things only happen in the movies.
“When the music stopped, I looked around and realized my buddies were gone. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but Joyce.”
“Oh, Dad, I never get tired of hearing this story.”
Joyce smiled as if she, too, was eager to relive the events of that night. “As we were walking out of the hall, I kept thinking I was never going to see Marcus again. I knew he was in the army—his haircut was a dead giveaway. I was well aware that my parents didn’t want me dating anyone in the military, and up until then I’d abided by their wishes.”
“I was afraid I wasn’t going to see her again,” Savannah’s father went on. “But Joyce gave me her name and phone number and then ran off to catch up with her ride home.”
“I didn’t sleep at all that night. I was convinced I’d imagined everything.”
“I couldn’t sleep, either,” Marcus confessed. “Here I was with my shipping orders in my pocket—this was not the time to get involved with a woman.”
“I’m glad you changed your mind,” Nash said, studying Savannah.
“To tell you the truth, I don’t think I had much of a choice. It was as if our relationship was preordained. By the end of the following week, I knew Joyce was the woman I’d marry. I knew I’d love her all my life, and both have held true.”
“Did you leave for Germany?”
“Of course. I had no alternative. We wrote back and forth for two years and then were married three months after I was discharged. There was never another woman for me after I met Joyce.”
“There was never another man for me,” her mother said quietly.
Savannah tossed Nash a triumphant look and was disappointed to see that he wasn’t looking her way.
“It’s a romantic story.” He was gracious enough to admit that much.
“Apparently some of that romance rubbed off on Savannah.” Her father’s eyes were proud as he glanced at her. “This wedding business of hers is thriving.”
“So it seems.” Some of the enthusiasm left Nash’s voice. He was apparently thinking of his sister, and Savannah’s role in her wedding plans.
“Eat, before your dinner gets cold,” Joyce said, waving her fork in their direction.
“How long did you say you’ve been married?” Nash asked, cutting off a piece of his steak.
“Thirty-seven years,” her father told him.
“And it’s been smooth sailing all that time?”
Savannah wanted to pound her fist on the table and insist that this cross-examination was unnecessary.
Marcus laughed. “Smooth sailing? Oh, hardly. Joyce and I’ve had our ups and downs over the years like most couples. If there’s anything special about our marriage, it’s been our commitment to each other.”
Savannah cleared her throat, wanting to gloat. Once more Nash ignored her.
“You’ve never once entertained the idea of divorce?” he asked.
This question was unfair! She hadn’t had the opportunity to challenge his clients about their divorces, not that she would’ve wanted to. Every case had saddened and depressed her.
“As soon as a couple introduces the subject of divorce, there isn’t the same willingness to concentrate on communication and problem-solving. People aren’t nearly as flexible,” Marcus said. “Because there’s always that out, that possibility.”
Joyce nodded. “If there was any one key to the success of our marriage, it’s been that we’ve refused to consider divorce an option. That’s not to say I haven’t fantasized about it a time or two.”
“We’re only human,” her father agreed with a nod. “I’ll admit I’ve entertained the notion a time or two myself—even if I didn’t do anything about it.”
No! It wasn’t true. Savannah didn’t believe it. “But you were never serious,” she felt obliged to say.
Marcus looked at her and offered her a sympathetic smile, as if he knew about their wager. “Your mother and I love each other, and neither of us could say we’re sorry we stuck it out through the hard times, but yes, sweetheart, there were a few occasions when I didn’t know if our marriage would survive.”
Savannah dared not look at Nash. Her parents’ timing was incredible. If they were going to be brutally honest, why did it have to be now? In all the years Savannah was growing up she’d never once heard the word divorce. In her eyes their marriage was solid, always had been and always would be.
“Of course, we never stopped talking,” her mother was saying. “No matter how angry we might be with each other.”
Soon after, Joyce brought out dessert—a coconut cake—and coffee.
“So, what do you think of our little girl?” Marcus asked, when he’d finished his dinner. He placed his hands on his stomach and studied Nash.
“Dad, please! You’re embarrassing