Cutler 05 - Darkest Hour

deaf and dumb? Do you think He can't read our hearts and minds? What good is my saying believe the words of the marriage vows I take, if in my heart I won't?" I sat back. "Someday, Emily, you might see that God has something to do with love and truth as well as with punishment and retribution and you will realize just how much you have missed sitting in the dark," I told her. I got up before she could respond and left her and Papa in the dining room to chew on their ugly thoughts.
    I didn't sleep much at all. Instead, I sat by my window and watched the night sky become more and more star-studded. Toward morning, a wave of clouds slipped over the horizon and began to cover the tiny, twinkling diamonds. I closed my eyes and fell asleep for a while and when I awoke again, I saw that it would be a dull, gray day with rain threatening to fall. It added to my gloom and doom. I didn't go down for breakfast. Vera anticipated my action and came up with a tray of hot tea and oatmeal.
    "You better get something in you," she advised, "or you'll pass out at the altar."
    "Maybe I'd be better off, Vera," I said, but I listened to her and ate as much as I could. I heard some of the people hired to help at the reception arriving downstairs and the preparations to decorate and set up the ballroom begin. Shortly afterward, some of Mamma's and Papa's cousins began to arrive. A few had come from more than a hundred miles away. The musicians appeared and as soon as they turned up their instruments, there was music. Before long, the plantation had a festive air about it. The aromas of luscious foods traveled through the corridors and the dark, old place was filled with light and noise and the chatter of excitement. Despite the way I felt, I couldn't help but be pleased by the changes.
    Charlotte and Luther were very excited with the arrival of all the guests and servants. Some of Mamma's and Papa's relatives had never seen Charlotte and doted on her. Afterward, Vera brought her up to my room to see me. She had made her a fancy little dress, too, and she did look adorable. She was eager to go back downstairs and join Luther and not miss a thing.
    "At least the children are happy," I muttered. My eyes fell on the clock. With each tick, the hands were being drawn closer and closer to the hour when I would have to emerge from my room and descend the stairs to the notes of "Here Comes the Bride." Only to me it felt more like I was descending the stairs to my execution.
    Vera pressed my hand and smiled.
    "You look very beautiful, honey," she said. "Your mother would be bursting with pride."
    "Thank you, Vera. How I wish Tottie was still here and Henry."
    She nodded, took Charlotte's little hand and left me to wait for the clock to strike the hour. Not that many years ago, when Mamma was alive and well, I dreamt of how she and I would spend my wedding day. We would spend hours and hours at her vanity table planning out every strand of my hair. Then we'd experiment with rouge and lipstick. I would have my own wedding dress created with matching shoes and veil. Mamma would dwell over her jewelry box to decide what precious bracelet or necklace I would wear.
    After all that I was going to wear had been chosen and the preparations completed, we would sit for hours and hours and talk. I would listen to her memories of her own wedding and Mamma would give me advice about how to act on my first night with my new husband. Then, when I came down the stairs, I would see her gazing up at me with proud, loving eyes. We would exchange smiles and glances like two conspirators who had plotted out every delicious moment. She would reach out and squeeze my hand before I stepped up to the altar and after it was over, she would be the first to hug and kiss me and wish me all the luck and happiness life had to offer. I would cry and feel frightened when I finally left to go on my honeymoon, but Mamma's smile would soothe me and I would be strong enough to start my own wonderful, married life.
    Instead of all that, I sat alone in my dreary room and listened to the dreadful tick-tock of my clock with nothing but my own dark thoughts to accompany me.
    I wiped away the inevitable tears and sucked in my breath when I heard the music grow louder and when I heard Papa's footsteps in the hallway. He had come to escort me to the top of the stairway. He had come to give me away, to trade me off and repair the blunders of his own ways. I stood up and greeted him with a face of