Hidden Scars (16 page)

“Thanks—your arm! You got your cast off.”

“Doc removed it yesterday.” He flexed his hand, leaned over the front seat, and then presented me with a bouquet of daisies. “These are for you.”

A wide, green, satin ribbon held the stems. “They’re beautiful, and my favorite.”

“Yes, I know.” His arms tightened around me.

“Okay, has anyone forgotten anything?” Kyle asked. “Speak now or forever hold your peace, because this wedding party’s heading out.”

Two hours later, we stopped in Danville. It was thirty minutes from our hometown and the most nerve-wracking point of the trip. We could run into someone we knew, but Chuck’s father promised to meet us there.

“Where’s your dad?” I scanned the parking lot once more for Mr. Mathew’s red Ford pickup. “He’s not here.” My chest tightened. I spun around. “Are you sure he said Texaco? There’re other services stations farther down? Should we—”

Chuck squeezed my hand. “It’s okay, Morgan. Don’t worry. He’ll be here.”

But without him to sign for Chuck, there would be no wedding.

After filling the car with gas, Kyle thought to drive around back. There Mr. Mathews sat, his head resting on the back of the seat with his hat over his eyes. I exhaled as Chuck got out and tapped on his window. In a matter of minutes, we were on the road again, headed to Vernon, Alabama.

The trip to Vernon went by fast. Mr. Mathews shared various stories about Chuck’s childhood: his first job delivering eggs at age eleven, his first bicycle, purchased from selling a runt pig he’d raised, and their many hunting trips. He even slipped up and called him by his nickname, Cooter. Chuck swore he didn’t know where the name came from. His father chuckled but never divulged the secret.

By ten fifteen, Chuck and I stood in front of the powers-that-be applying for a marriage license. I held my breath and prayed we had all the necessary papers. Afterward, Chuck phoned the preacher to confirm the time, and then Kyle drove us all to a small restaurant for lunch.

A battalion of grasshoppers were at war in my stomach. I refused to order anything to eat. I had no doubts about marrying Chuck, but anyone who gets married and says they’re not nervous isn’t normal. I nursed a chocolate milkshake, listened to the others’ conversations, and waited until time for us to leave.

At twelve thirty-five, we left the restaurant and Kyle followed Chuck’s directions to the preacher’s house. As we pulled into the driveway, Chuck’s eyes probed deeply into mine. “You ready?”

“Yes,” I answered with such a huge smile my cheeks hurt.

Chuck tightened his hold on my hand and helped me out of the car. The five of us walked toward a cute white house with black shutters. As we stepped onto the porch, a man opened the door and extended his hand. “I’m Pastor Bill Hayne.”

A friendly smile curved into his boyish cheeks—was he really old enough to be a pastor? Inside, he introduced us to his very pregnant wife, Anna. She offered iced tea to the others while Pastor Hayne led Chuck and me into his study. He checked the papers Chuck handed him before turning his gaze and directing his comments toward us.

“Marriage is not to be taken lightly. Marriage is to be held in honor. The vows you take today in front of witnesses, and more important God, are binding. Are you both ready to make a true commitment to one another?”

Chuck glanced my way. “Yes.” We responded as one.

After Pastor Hayne prayed for God’s blessings on our marriage and guidance in our life, we joined the others in his living room. He told us where to stand. I closed my eyes and inhaled a slow, deep breath.
Lord, please don’t let this be a dream
. Then the ceremony began.

“Do you, Morgan Ann.”

He said the two names together so fast, it sounded like Morgadan.

“Take Charles—”

Not Chuck?

I wanted to stop him. Correct him. Slow him down. But I reminded myself God knew our hearts, our names, and our future. Instead of concentrating on our names, I fixed my mind on the words of our vows and the importance of the moment. Tears stung my eyes. It was really happening, the miracle I’d prayed for. My hand shook as I held it out for Chuck to place the wedding band on my finger. With his help, I managed to slide the band on his.

Within minutes, Pastor Hayne’s enthusiastic voice rang out: “I now pronounce you man and wife.”

Chuck grabbed me and swung me around the room before following the pastor’s directive, “You may now kiss your bride.”

We both laughed then cried. I expected to wake up any second and find out I’d dreamed the whole thing. But with the sharp, bitter smell of the daisies, the hard feel of the wedding band, the ring of Kyle’s and Becky’s congratulations, and the backslap of Mr. Mathews welcoming me to the family, it couldn’t be. If it were a dream, it was the nicest I’d ever had. One I never wanted to end.

Twelve hours after leaving the dorm, Kyle, Becky, Chuck, and I arrived back in Waitsville, outside the little white house we would call home.

Chuck carried me across the threshold while Becky snapped the picture.

“Perfect. Now you two stand over there.” She pointed toward the couch. “And I’ll get a picture of Chuck removing your garter.”

“
Becky
.” I glared at her then drew my lips tight.

“Hey, I’m all for that.” Chuck dropped down on one knee. “Which leg?”

I turned my back, so neither he nor Kyle could see what I was doing, and eased the garter down above the hemline. “Okay, Becky, get ready.” I pivoted and rested my right foot on Chuck’s leg, then pointed my finger at him. “Behave yourself.”

He wiggled his eyebrows at me. Then with his gaze fixed on mine, he let his hand migrate up my leg and remove the frilly, elastic band. He twirled it around his finger while Becky got another shot.

“I believe it’s customary for the groom to give that item to his best man.”

Chuck placed it over both index fingers and flung it toward Kyle slingshot style. Kyle looped it around his ear.

“Here.” Chuck took the camera from Becky. “Stand over there with Kyle so I can get a picture of you two.”

In all our planning, I’d never once thought about pictures and how priceless they’d be someday.

After a few more pictures, Becky and Kyle congratulated us again and, without warning, announced their plans to leave.

“But it’s early yet.” A part of me wanted to beg them to stay.

“I’m sure the girls are dying to hear all about the ceremony and that you are now officially Mrs. Chuck—excuse me, Mrs. Charles Jefferson Mathews.”

“Don’t forget to explain why I have to come back to the dorm tonight. And Becky,” I leaned close and whispered, “tell them not to ask me a lot of questions about tonight. Okay?”

Chuck interrupted, “You’ve both got this phone number. If Morgan’s parents show up or you find out they’ve called, or anything out of the ordinary happens…”

“Don’t worry, buddy. I’ve decided to crash at Panola Hall with Jim and some of the guys. We’ll let you know if anything comes up.” Kyle held out his hand. “Thanks for letting me be a part of this. You two deserve the best.”

Chuck draped his arm over my shoulders. “I’ve got the best.”

We stood in the doorway as they drove away, leaving Chuck and me—for the first time—all alone as husband and wife. Surprisingly, the reality of it all scared me much more than I ever thought it would.

After locking the door, Chuck stepped closer, pressing his body against mine. “We’ve waited a long time for this day, haven’t we?”

My head rested against his chest. “Um hum.”

“Are you nervous?”

“Petrified,” I confessed, too embarrassed to look at him.

He lifted my mouth to his. “I love you, Morgan.” Then he wrapped me in his arms.

Again and again we kissed, both of our bodies responding to the other’s. Only this time, there was no stopping. The warmth of his hand caressed the back of my neck. I flinched as he began to unzip my dress.

Then in one quick swoosh, he swept me up in his arms and headed into the darkened bedroom.

My heart did a nervous flip-flop when my feet touched the floor and he slowly began to slip the dress from my shoulders.

“It’s okay, Morgan,” he whispered against my mouth as if he knew I needed to be reminded we were married.

His fingers laced with mine as he gently lowered me to the bed. Soon the warmth of our bodies meshed together, claiming God’s gift of marriage. The healing balm of love faded everything else from my mind. For in that moment, other than the two of us, no one or nothing else existed.

Harsh phone rings jolted me awake.

Chuck bolted out of bed, hopped on one foot and then the other, pulling on his pants. “It’s all right,” he tried to assure me before jogging down the hall toward the kitchen and the ringing phone.

How could this have happened? How could we have fallen asleep? I tossed the covers back and frantically began to dress.

He walked back into the bedroom. “That was Becky. We’ve got to get you back to the dorm.”

My legs and hand shook uncontrollably. “Are my parents—?”

Chuck placed his hands on my shoulders. “No. But we’ve got to hurry.”

“Why? What time is it?” I twisted around, frantically trying to find a clock.

“It’s after ten.”

“Ten!” I pulled away from him. “I can’t go back. The dorm mother’s already locked the door and called them. We’ve got to get out of here. We’ve got to—”

“Listen to me.” He placed his arms around my waist and held on tight. “Becky’s talked Mrs. Henderson out of doing anything for now, but she told Becky she couldn’t wait much longer.”

“But what if—”

“If we get there and find out anything different, I won’t leave you there.”

He helped me get in the car, and we headed toward the campus.

My whole body jerked in uncontrollable spasms.

“If we have to, we’ll drive to Memphis. You’re my wife now. Neither your parents, nor anyone else will ever hurt you again. I promise.” His voice cracked. “If I’d had any idea your dad—”

“Don’t.” The word vibrated through clattering teeth.

We drove the rest of the way in silence. Each caught up in our own thoughts. As soon as we stopped in front of the dorm, I opened the car door to get out, but my legs wouldn’t hold me. I fell to my knees. He reached around my waist and lifted me to my feet.

“Don’t let go of me.”

“I’ve got you, Morgan.”

The door opened. Mrs. Henderson stepped out and helped him get me inside and seated in a chair. My body continued to jerk in spasms. The tears wouldn’t quit flowing.

“Have her parents been called?” he asked.

“No. It goes against everything I’ve ever done, but I haven’t called them.”

“Are you going to?” His tone was firm.

She looked at me and shook her head. “No. I’ll have to write you up, Morgan, and you’ll have to go before the Dean of Women after Thanksgiving break.”

All I could do was nod.

Mrs. Henderson turned to Chuck. “I’ll have to ask you to leave now.”

“I need a minute with Morgan,” he responded.

“My patience has been tried enough for one night. You need to leave. Now.”

He ignored her, knelt beside me, and took my hands in his. “You don’t have to stay.”

My chattering teeth made it difficult to answer. “Yes. I do.” It was best. The lawyer had said twenty-four hours. But no one should ever have to spend their wedding night separated from their spouse, with their emotions shredded.

“I’ll be here tomorrow before your last class. If you need me before then, call me—no matter what time of day or night. You hear me?” He held my hands between his.

I nodded.

He leaned in and kissed me.

Before Mrs. Henderson could protest our public display of affection, he stood and faced her. “I appreciate you not calling her parents. You have no idea what she’s been through. I thought I did before tonight, but even I had no idea how bad…” He searched my eyes, as tears welled in his, and mouthed, “I love you.”

A tear escaped and ran down his face.

“She’ll be fine. I’ll get some of the girls to help get her to her room.”

“We’ll help, Mrs. Henderson,” Jennifer called out as she, Becky, Ann, and Wendy rounded the corner of the hallway.

The dorm mother placed a hand over her eyes. “I’ve lost complete control of this building.” Her voice no longer contained a sense of calm and gentleness. She strode to the door and held it open, then nodded to Chuck. “Leave now, before I’m forced to call more than her parents.”

I tried to force a smile as he backed out the door. We kept eye contact until the door finally closed. As though a large, invisible hand reached inside my chest and squeezed out the last drop of blood, I sat paralyzed and drained of life.

Wendy and Jennifer each took an arm, placed it over their shoulders and around their neck, and then raised me to my feet. We headed for the stairway with them doing most of the work.

Mrs. Henderson asked, “Are you sure you girls can manage?”

“We’re fine,” Wendy responded.

“We’ll never get her up the stairs,” Becky whispered and waited for the dorm mother to leave. “Let’s take her to my room. It’s closer, and I’d feel better if she stayed with me tonight.”

“You’ll get written up,” I warned.

“I don’t care. The bed’s big enough to hold us both.”

“Her teeth are chattering something awful. I think she’s cold. Maybe a hot shower would warm her up and help calm her,” Ann suggested.

“That’s a good idea. Jennifer, why don’t you and I help get her in the shower—”

“No!” Becky and I both answered.

Becky drew in a deep breath before continuing more calmly, “Here. Let her lie down for a while first.”

Mimi hovered around and placed one of her blankets on top of me. “Have you had anything to eat? I can make you some hot chocolate or get you something out of the machine.”

I thanked her and waited for the multiple questions I was sure she’d have for me. They never came.

Later, after I showered, Becky and I lay in bed. “I got some great pictures today. I’ll get them developed this weekend.”

“Thanks for everything. I don’t know how you talked Mrs. Henderson out of calling my parents tonight.”