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Hope and Chocolate Cake

The Wedding of Mr. and Mrs. Miller

By Angie AllanbyPublished 3 years ago 4 min read
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Photo by Tamara Menzi on Unsplash

Wedding Day. At last.

The farmhouse was abuzz with activity! Aunt Maddie was yelling orders here, there, and everywhere. The room was bustling as bridesmaids fussed over each other and all kinds of intricate details. Everything felt zoned out, a little hazy…. Izzy sat in front of her mirror and listened to her friends’ chatter, but she could understand nothing.

She gazed into her own eyes, critically checking for make-up flaws, and then giggled because she never wore make-up, and this person staring back at her looked like a doll. All around her glowed a halo of white in fluid motion: light from the huge windows, from ivory lace and tulle, from the daisies and gypsophila, from the cream walls…. soft white light, everywhere.

Her fair hair was woven around gardenias with a light veil tucked underneath the full blooms. She wore her mama’s wedding dress - vintage lace, classical, breath-taking.

Izzy was beautiful, and at that moment, she was glad of it. She wanted to be the most beautiful thing that Trent had ever dreamed of, to be worthy of a warrior. She flushed as she thought of him - the tenderness, the strength, the beauty of his soul...

The moment she met him, she knew. She thought back to that time - helping out with school community drives, dropping donations at food banks, reading children’s books at the orphanage, washing pots at the soup kitchen. Real bleeding-heart stuff, embarked upon to hide a tumultuous confusion of grief. She felt that with people who had honest needs, she could bury herself in purpose. Besides, she found the honesty refreshing. At 16 - gorgeous, gifted, intelligent, and wealthy - she had no shortage of friends who wanted her around for all kinds of superficial reasons; boys hovered about her in swarms.

And then she saw Trent, and the world stopped. She fell into his soul, head first, and thereafter could not breathe without him. He was angry, fierce, mighty, scared, and homeless. Yet his eyes held hers without fear, with a strength she had never before seen….

She recalled that moment - carrying bags of donations from school to the food bank. Halfway to the delivery entrance, there he was. He materialized out of nowhere, took the bags, and walked with her. He didn't ask.

And she was smitten.

Three years later, here she sat on the day that was inevitable since that moment. She never wanted to be apart from him again. Not ever. Three years of waiting during which Daddy had reasoned with her, Trent had disappeared once, traversing crippling self-doubt and shame…. But she knew.

Their barn raising last month had been a big milestone for them.

He kept telling her that she had saved his life.

She didn't want to tell him - yet - that he had saved hers.

* * *

“Do you, Isabelle Ivy Maud Tanner, take Trent Ashton Miller to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

(“Are you really really sure?” he whispered only to her…)

“I do!” yelled Izzy confidently, lifting her chin and shouting into the high trusses of their new barn.

He slipped on her ring and then she was in his arms. She was home.

Music and dancing, food and laughter, ale and white wine. And chocolate cake. Rich, dark, decadent - with mousse filling and melted white chocolate icing. Her mama’s recipe. She had made it herself, with much care and attention. She had felt her mama by her side instructing her, guiding her, as if Mama was giving her blessing...

Izzy and Trent paused for a photo as they cut the cake. Held against his chest she felt his heart beating, rhythmic and comforting, and a lump rose in her throat. I miss you, Mama. I miss you so much. I wish you were here, I wish you could know him. Did you send him for me...? Was he a gift from you?

But there was no time now to ponder upon the gaping absence of her mother - or to marvel at the timing of Mama's exit and Trent's entry into her life - because every one of their guests was waiting in anticipation. All the children present stood wide-eyed and non-believing, pushing to the front of the congregation to improve their view. The anticipation built with giggles and shouts of encouragement.

The bride held up a generous slice of cake - layered with feather-light mousse, rich icing, chocolate hearts, and cherries - and she smooshed it in her new husband's face.

The entire congregation erupted in clapping and cheering, whistling and yelling! The musicians picked up a lively tune and everyone stamped in time, grabbing Trent and Izzy and carrying them off to dance.

“Why? Why does the groom get cake in his face?” laughed Trent, honestly wanting to understand.

“It’s a blessing,” puffed his best man, Izzy’s brother, as they danced alongside each other. “It's the hope that you will always have plenty - enough to live well and excess to share. The better the cake, the stronger the blessing, and that's good cake!”

And so for better or worse, for richer or poorer an orphan ex-convict and a homecoming queen were married. With a timeless and enduring love, they began their life together in a barn, on a beautiful plateau overlooking a valley, and none has ever walked this earth that was happier and more complete than those two were that night.

...For both knew the most important knowledge of all: their past did not define them, their presence was a gift, and they had the good intentions of creating a future that fulfilled every one of their dreams.

Love
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About the Creator

Angie Allanby

Lover of earth. Citizen of the world. Seeker of truth.

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