At the back of the house, there was a curtain. Thick and dark. Anyone who attended a show at Theatre Zipp would pass through it on the way to their seats. It was a lovely ritual, one that allowed you to leave yourself behind at the door, suspend your disbelief and transform along with the performers on stage. Marigold would leave something else behind that curtain, something that she would never possess again. The Casey name, respected by the locals and treated like a tourist attraction by all others would no longer be her own.
Obligations at work made it so that Jake would be unable to attend and Jack hadn't spoken to her since the day that Tavington's heart first failed. There was no Casey present to walk her down the aisle, no Casey present to give her away at the altar. So, she stood in the darkness and prepared to make the walk all alone. The rolling notes that played beneath the melody of that familiar song served as her cue to lift the edge of the dark, velvet fabric and step into the sunlit space.
The time of day was more than ideal for the light to travel through the theatre's many stained-glass windows. A mosaic of colors and shapes coated the aisles like a transparent blanket. Around and beneath those shifting hues, Marigold was greeted by more familiar faces than she'd anticipated. The increase in guests was surely Giselle's doing. While she was excited to see just how many Waterfordians had taken the day to drive all the way to Charleston on their behalf, her eyes stopped when they reached William Tavington.
He was a dream. His long hair was fixed just neatly enough to pair perfectly with his three-piece suit, but he remained just as ruggedly handsome as ever. All that he could do was smile as he watched Marigold. Through his eyes, there had never been a more beautiful bride. His exuberant little hummingbird had been cast in the role of a swan and she played the part beautifully. The usual skip in her walk had smoothed out, her radiant smile was placed in soft-focus behind the waves of her veil, but it was her strength, her fearlessness for the future that pushed her forward. Step by elegant step.
When Marigold reached the center of the house, two figures moved in and started to walk along beside her. The first, Tavington knew as Jake Casey. The second received an unusual reaction from Marigold- an expression that read as both overjoyed and melancholy. He looked like Jake, but was certainly a cleaner cut fellow. No moustache, no buzzcut, just a handsome, refined man with telltale Casey features.
"That was a surprising entrance," were the only words that Marigold could give to her brothers.
"We thought swooping in like birds of prey would be intimidating." Jake linked arms with his sister immediately, but Jack was a bit more hesitant.
"You flew all the way here?" She turned to Jack, brushing her hand against his.
Jack not only accepted her silent request, but took her hand in his and gave it the smallest, sweetest kiss. "I wouldn't have missed it for anything in the world." He looked to Tavington. "He appears to be a decent enough guy... could use a haircut. But I know you've always had a thing for hippies..."
"He is not a hippie, trust me." Marigold shook her head, still smiling, still entranced by her beautifully statuesque husband-to-be.
"That song they're playing over there is by John Denver. You're both a bunch of hippies!" Jake chimed in.
"Thank you, by the way, Jack…" She seemed to ignore Jake's comment. "For everything that you've done for us recently. William wouldn't be here today if it weren't for you."
"Shake n' Bake! And I helped!" Jake was clearly feeling rather left out. Fortunately for him, a handful of guests heard him and he received several bewildered chuckles. Even Tavington appeared to be amused. Confused, but amused.
"Don't mind us. The family of assorted nuts is just having a small reunion…" Jake winked at Giselle and moved to stand by her side on the steps leading up to the stage.
Jack remained with Marigold for a few beats longer before turning to Tavington who met him not with his usual sideways grin, but a genuine, gracious smile. "William?" He gave Marigold's hand a second, small kiss before leading it to be held by Tavington's. "Welcome to the family."
The quartet cut out and the animated Steve Martin prototype called Pastor Benson began his address. "Family, friends… Romans, Countrymen. Forgive an old thespian. Try not to throw food. Unless of course it is cake. Bite-size pieces of cake. Thrown into my mouth." Tavington raised his eyebrow at Marigold, who merely reddened in embarrassment. Their beautiful ceremony was about to get whacky. Pastor Benson was a friend of the Zipp family and just as much of a character as anyone else Tavington had met in his bride's inner circle. "Today is a very important day. Because it is the 18th of November. And that can only mean one thing. That it is National Apple Cider Day. As a longtime patron of this theatre, I would assume that the lovely Mizz Zipp- Louisa? Where are you, gorgeous? Take a bow! No? Alrighty then… I would assume that Miss Zipp would understand that I am usually down on Benson Farm selling overpriced, tepid apple juice to tourists on this day each year. But you see, Cats, when I was asked to come down here and join this little goofball to her beau in holy macaroni, I simply couldn't let this opportuna-casserole pass me- can you tell I'm hungry? Let's speed things up. Marigold?"
"Yes?" She and Tavington appeared to be either on the verge of laughing or crying. Or a little bit of both.
"You're blushing, sweetheart. You should have some wine, I heard it helps. Or maybe it's the other way around. I wouldn't know, of course, because I'm a pastor. How am I doing? Am I nailing it or am I bombing?"
"You are simply nailing it, Pastor Benson!" Marigold projected in her best stage voice.
"What can I say? I like to ham things up! Marigold and I go way back! We have fun, don't we, Mare? She will always be the Audrey to my Orin Scrivello. Great show. A little birdie named Giselle told me that your dashing groom is a plant lover. You would have loved Marigold as Audrey, but you also would have loved Audrey II, Mr… Taaaaa-"
"Tavington." Giselle shouted from the wings, quietly loving Pastor Benson's little "performance".
"Tavington. I'll get to you in a minute, Mare. First, Mr. Tavington and I need to have a little chat. So, William…" He removed a notecard and a pair of comically oversized glasses from his pocket. "Banastre. Seriously? Like those things that you sit on to slide down a staircase when your folks aren't looking and it's fun!? Righteous! I should have been a Brit! That's my one beef with God. Yes, I'm allowed to have those. William Banastre Taving… ton, do you take this wonderful little noisemaker of a humanoid, Marigold Victoria Casey, to be your old ball n' chain? Do you promise to let her pick the restaurant even when she's got the pizza jones, but you're totes in the mood for tacos? Really? I think you've found a keeper here, Mare! Will you honor her, tell her that those printed leggings do, in fact, add 10 pounds the first time around so she'll quit wearing them in the first place? We're coming into the home stretch, Boy, you're doing great! Do you promise to be faithful to her and love her from this day forward, for as long as you both shall live?"
"Do I get to say 'I do' now?" Tavington grinned, almost shyly.
"What do you guys think, should I let him off the hook?" Nearly every one of the guests said "yes", save for Tommy Martin, who was slouching lowly in the front row with his feet on the stage. "Sure! Why not!?"
A smile, more charming and endearing than anything Marigold had ever seen graced his eyes and face. "I do."
"Marigold!" Pastor Benson did a slow, mock-seductive walk across the stage. "Your turn, hot stuff! Marigold Victoria Casey. Of the Waterford Caseys. Nutcase, teacher, thespian… prospective beekeeper. So… This guy sounds pretty great, right?! He's going to let you have pizza and everything! But just so we're clear, do you take William Banastre Tavington… rockin' cool name and all, to be your hubby? Even if he becomes your Chubby Hubby after all that eating out? That was the caterer's cue to find me some Ben and Jerry's. Do you promise to care for him and not be offended when he asks you to make him a sandwich… occasionally? Will you love him, support his impending midlife crises… they're on their way, trust me. When they hit, they hit hard. Especially since he's so into plants. If you catch him singing to them, it's best to just let him finish… Do you promise to be faithful to him and only a little bit judgmental towards him when he really, really deserves it… from this day forward for as long as you both shall live?"
"I do," Marigold gave Tavington's hand a tiny squeeze, "to all of the above."
A small, tissue paper parachute fell clumsily from the catwalk and landed on the stage, several inches from Pastor Benson's boots. "Gotta love showbiz…" He swept the contraption off the floor and untied their simple, silver wedding bands. "I take it Giselle made this? Yup. That's what I thought. Okay. If you haven't had any major epiphanies since the last time we spoke, Marigold, you get some jewelry! But you don't get to keep it! William, you get one, too. But you don't get to keep it, either." Once the rings were in their possession, they were exchanged. Marigold felt a small tear forming in the corner of her eye as the band clicked against her engagement ring.
"Then by the power vested in me by the state of South Carolina… oh, yes they did! I now pronounce you Mr. and Mrs. Tavington. But you still have to sign a small tree worth of paperwork in the back room before you leave. Hubby, go ahead and kiss your Hummingbird! Hummingbird, try not to fly away!"
Tavington gently swept the veil up and over Marigold's flower-adorned head and gave her cheek a quick caress. "Don't fly away on me now."
"You should see his sermons! Sorry if that was weird…" she whispered, inches from his lips.
"It was unique. But I loved every strange, wonderful second of it. Plus, it was to be expected. I did, after all, just marry a Casey…"
"A Tavington."
Their smiling lips touched and quickly relaxed into one another, creating a light, darling kiss. They parted seconds later laughing, dazed and absolutely elated. This would set the tone for their entire marriage, it seemed. It would be a time in their lives that overflowed with joy, laughter, and love. The "small tree" of paperwork that Pastor Benson had spoken of turned out to be a single, official certificate that was significantly less intimidating than he made it sound. Somebody had placed a sticky note on top of its title that read "Declaration of Dependence" and while the culprit never emerged, there were suspicions that it had been someone from the Martin family…
The reception took place in a large room that usually served as a rehearsal space. A small, portable platform was assembled in the back for, yet another surprise that Giselle prepared for the Tavingtons. "Benny" Martin, Tess and (with much reluctance) Tommy performed live music in full costume. They called themselves "Benny and the Jetpacks" simply because Waterfordians don't know how to do "normal". Not only were they all wearing roller skates (a shameless promotion for the roller rink that Benny managed, no doubt) but they were clothed in steampunk attire. It seemed ridiculous at first, sort of a pedestrian take on "Starlight Express", but the music was first class and pure Rockabilly.
As Tommy performed a teary-eyed rendition of the otherwise cheerful tune, "Miss You Miss Belinda", which he dedicated to his beloved detention teacher; Giselle and Marigold briefed Tavington on how to swing dance.
"You really don't have to worry about looking like an idiot," Giselle screamed over the band as she threw Marigold into an impromptu do-si-do, "because that's kind of the idea!"
"I don't believe I'll have any trouble with that, Miss Zipp," Tavington jumped in and stole Marigold away, matching the beat with perfection.
"I should say not. I'm going to make your brother's day and ask him for a dance," Giselle gave them a wink and shuffled away with a twist of her pink poodle skirt.
"So," as Tavington held Marigold close, Tommy slowed the tempo down even more. At least for a few measures. Thankfully, Benny rolled across the stage and commandeered the microphone just in time to save the song. "If Giselle is Peggy Shippen and Henry is John Andre… doesn't that leave Jake in the same position that you were in when you married Henry?"
Marigold looked across the dance floor. Jake and Giselle were slow dancing behind the beat hardly caring that other couples were bumping into them. "I'm not sure. All I know is… Henry and I never looked that happy."
Several songs in, Jake and Giselle started passing out homemade cupcakes and plastic flutes of champagne. Most couples hardly felt weighed down by this little development and continued dancing, but Tavington pulled two chairs together in the corner of the room and had his champagne while Marigold rested her head on his shoulder. It was around this time that they were visited by Jack.
Marigold was thrilled that he hadn't left. But still didn't quite know how to speak to him after everything they'd been through. "Have a seat, Brother! And a cupcake!"
"Oh, I've already had about three! That Giselle sure knows how to cook!"
"She makes a mean hummingbird cake! C'mon admit it, you miss Southern cuisine…" as Marigold sat up in her chair, she kept Tavington's hand in hers, periodically touching the new ring around his finger.
"The fare is certainly different up in D.C." Jack cleared his throat, preparing to talk business. As was his way. "I heard about your successful surgery, William. Congratulations. I also understand that you two are looking to relocate…"
Tavington shook his head. "It wouldn't be a big move by any standards. Just outside of town, in the country. Waterford is Marigold's home, after all."
"Well… if you ever feel a need to escape the area entirely. Get a fresh start. You know who to call. Now, I'm going to have to head back but before I do, would you mind if I dance with my sister?"
Being able to dance with, let alone see, Jack was a treasure. But after a brief reunion, dancing to Benny's spin on George Thorogood's "I've Got My Eyes on You", he left the room and his sister's life once more without a trace. The music only lasted a while longer. The Martins gave the stage up to Giselle who never shied away from the opportunity to belt out a showtune or two. She even invited Marigold up towards the end because honestly, the wedding wouldn't have been complete without them taking a stab at "Marry the Man Today" from Guys and Dolls or resurrecting a staple from their high school production of Cinderella (the "Stepsister's Lament", obviously…)
While the girls were having a blast on stage, Benny approached Tavington. His steampunk gear paired with the aftermath of several glasses of champagne relieved nearly all the tension that Tavington had feared this inevitable meeting would surely evoke.
"Well, well, well…" Benny pulled his goggles onto his forehead, causing his hair to spike out comically around the edges, "Waterford gained itself a Tavington today. That'll be an interesting footnote in the history books to come, ay?"
"Undoubtedly," Tavington found that keeping a watchful eye on Marigold as she grapevine'd across the stage in her pretty white frock that fit just right in all the right places helped him along. The involuntary backwards drift caused by Benny's roller skates and occasional scoot back in Tavington's direction did the rest. "Marigold and I were very happy that you came today. The entire Martin family! Your sister, Tess, was so accommodating and kind to me when I first arrived here..."
"Did you know," he took a swig of champagne, correcting his skates "that the Caseys and the Martins go back, too? Not just the Martins and the Tavingtons. We both know how that ended. No pressure. Now, it's just a theory. But I read years ago that the daughter of Solomon Casey enlisted in the militia under a false name. She had everyone fooled, even pretended to be mute. And Old Benjamin Martin took her under his wing. Until her identity was compromised, anyway. Marigold is as good as family. Even before I read about how we were connected… now she's a Tavington… again, what a footnote!"
When the reception finally started to wind down, Giselle presented Marigold with her last surprise. An overnight stay in a historic bed and breakfast by the harbor. She promised to keep Moxie company and see to it that she was fed and watered until their return on Sunday. Giselle was properly thanked and hugged from both of the Tavingtons and the satisfied guests spilled out into the snowy street, parting ways in every direction. Marigold remained in her wedding dress, but pulled on her tights and a sweater before leaving the church with her new husband. They fed the meter just enough coinage to cater to their extended visit in Charleston and raced to the bed and breakfast in the snow.
Stepping into the colonial style inn that Giselle had selected for them was like traveling back in time. Although it was small and cramped for the most part, it was furnished with priceless antiques and nearly all the walls were adorned with old paintings. Tavington dwelled just a little bit longer in the hallway than he normally would have on his wedding night, simply admiring his surroundings. He seemed surprisingly disinterested in the portraiture and other historical paintings. This puzzled Marigold, but only slightly. To her, he very well may have stepped out of one and into her life. Perhaps engaging with the portraits and war scenes would be a step backwards. The depictions of flora and fauna, cityscapes and sailing ships captivated him. Marigold followed several paces behind, admiring something else entirely- the tiny snowflakes that lingered still in his dark waves and the wonder in his eyes as he made these new connections. She didn't know this at the time, but he was using the images and furnishings to suture himself into the 1700's again and create a new narrative for his past. This could only last so long and finally, the found their room.
"Maybe Jack was on to something," Marigold pondered, looking out the window at their view of the newly darkened streets below, "I've been thinking about the dream that you and I had the other night. About the airplane. So much of what you are trying to escape is in Waterford. Maybe by going far away…"
Tavington stepped in behind her, placed his chin on her shoulder and arms around her waist. They took in the view as their snow-freckled exteriors dried and warmed. "If we are to travel, it should be in the name of adventure. I know that you love your home. It would be wicked to part a flower from her roots."
Marigold turned, returning her cheek to its favorite place in the world- beside his beating heart. "Then let's start there. I want to go on an adventure with you…"
Author's Note: So, there will be a small stylistic change in the final chapters. Obviously, you know that I have addressed William as "Tavington" throughout the story. This was okay early on and I stuck with it for consistency, but now that "Tavington" is Marigold's last name, it makes better sense to address him as "William" in my narrations. This will be changed for the entire story when I finally have time to revise it in the coming months. Also, Victoria, I think you're spot on with that one. Cupcakes it is! Huzzah!