Juliet Kent married Allan Miller in the parlor of New Moon, just as she said she would, on New Years Day 1947. She wore Bella's simple wedding dress and carried a bouquet of narcissi from the Ingleside greenhouse in her arms.
"They're so lovely! I can manage without a veil," Juliet laughed. "But not without a bouquet. I wouldn't truly feel like a bride without one!"
Mother and Father were in attendance, of course, as were Aunt Ilse and Uncle Perry and Little Elizabeth. Bella and Doug postponed their journey back to Guelph to stay for the wedding. Bella was to stand up as Juliet's matron of honor and Doug would be Allan's best man. Little Embeth was the flower girl--they decked her out in a frilly white gown and wreathed her head with hothouse roses. She looked more festive than the bride, who was simple but radiant in the plain gown. But of course Embeth was too small to carry out the official flower girl duties. She seemed much more interested in trying to eat the ruffles on the hem of her dress, and in the middle of the ceremony kept pointing at little Rose Anne Penhallow, nestled in Joy's arms, and crying out, "Baby!" in a triumphant tone.
Reverend Meredith would perform the ceremony, and pretty Mrs. Meredith came along as his guest. Juliet also sent an invitation to old Mrs. Blythe--she was so gentle and kind. Juliet wanted her gentle soul to smile on she and Allan when they were married. Mrs. Blythe did come--but she didn't bring the veil that she'd shared with so many brides--it had been worn so much that it was tattered beyond repair, now.
"But I don't mind," she smiled. "Every time it has been worn, it's been worn with true love in mind. You remind me of myself--when I was young--when I was marrying my darling Gilbert. Dear Gilbert! Anyone can see that you don't need a veil to be a happy bride--the happiest of brides."
So they fashioned Juliet a crown of holly and ivy, instead.
Trudy was there--and Blair King. Juliet never would have thought that Blair would be a good enough friend to be at her wedding--to Allan! But it seemed natural to have him there. He was a friend--a true friend.
"Besides," he winked. "I've been so caught up in this romance between you and Miller that I simply have to see how it turns out."
Bea and David, of course, came. Bea had to sit the whole time--she was hugely pregnant--and peeved that Juliet had planned her wedding at such an inconvenient time.
"Couldn't you all have waited?" she said. "Until March or April, when I was able to dance and have a good time again?"
"We couldn't, Bea," Juliet said honestly. "We're leaving in three days." She filled Bea in on her and Allan's plans--hers and Allan's! From now on any plans they made would belong to the both of them!
Bea burst into tears--she hadn't known. "California--is--so far away," she sobbed. "I'll never see you. We'll fall out of touch--we won't be friends anymore. Oh, you can protest all you want, Juliet, but I know it's true! You--and Allan--both gone! This is worse than when he went off to the war--we knew he'd be coming home then! You'll--never--be coming home now! And if you do, this won't be your home. Let me alone--let me alone!"
She flew from the room with surprisingly agility. David went after her.
"Forgive her, Juliet," he said. "It's just that Bea loves you both so much"
"And we love her," Juliet said honestly, her eyes brimming with tears. It did sting that she would have to leave Bea. She remembered all of their late-night talks over the years--their lazy summer days on the porch at New Moon--the wintry afternoons huddled in Bea's room listening to her radio.
"Bea's right," she whispered to herself as she stood on the New Moon verandah and surveyed the snowy fields around her. "We will fall out of touch--somewhat. And I'll never get to know Bea's baby--I'll always be a shadowy presence in its life. The same with Embeth--they can visit, of course, but it isn't the same."
A few soft, fat snowflakes began to fall.
"But I would trade all of it--all of this--for Allan," she laughed joyfully.
"Juliet!" It was Aunt Ilse's voice. "Get in here, you bad thing! We're ready."
Juliet twirled in her long dress and blinked as snowflakes settled on her lashes. The old house watched her and shared in her happiness.
"Darling New Moon!" she said. "I'm so glad I'm here on my wedding day. You're like an old friend--!" Impulsively she touched her lips to the old porch rail and blew a kiss to the quiet spruce trees in Lofty John's bush.
"Jul-i-et!" Another cry pierced the night, and Juliet Kent opened the door and went into her beloved New Moon for the last time. The next time she entered it, she would be Juliet Miller! It seemed like a different person, entirely.
* * *
They all admitted later that it was the nicest wedding any of them had ever been to. So simple and homey compared to those big, wasteful monstrosities thrown every spring and summer in the town halls. And Juliet was the prettiest bride any of them had ever seen. Her long, dark hair rippled down her back and shone with red glints in the firelight. Her eyes were as blue as the gulf and sparkled like the sea when the sun was on it. And Allan Miller looked happier and more contented than anyone had seen him look in years--happier than anyone had seen him look since before the war. There was a deep satisfaction in his eyes as he wrapped his arm around his bride--he beamed proudly as if to say, "My dream was almost out of reach--but I've caught it--and what a beautiful dream it is!"
They had a merry dinner after the ceremony and pulled the curtains back and dimmed the lights so that they could see the snow come down. It was a lovely, ghostly meal--hints of goblin magic were everywhere, peeking around corners and from behind curtains.
But after supper they were ready for fun. The whole gang went into the kitchen and roasted chestnuts on the big cook-fire. David Walsh brought his ukulele and they sang song after song, all voices blending in perfect harmony until they flowed together like one exquisite golden thread. Even Bea cheered up a bit, though her eyes were pink and watery and she wouldn't meet Juliet's gaze. The babies slept peacefully in their mothers' arms, their mouths forming contented rosebud smiles.
At midnight Allan Miller took his bride's hand in his own and the pair slipped off to the summer house, where they would spend their wedding night, as the rest of the gang in the kitchen sang the haunting melody that floated over the night and wound like smoke around their ears:
Should auld acquaintance be forgot
And never brough t to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot
And days of auld lang syne.
For auld lang syne, my dear
For auld lang syne
We'll take a cup of kindness yet
For auld lang syne.
"Auld lang syne--days gone by," Juliet translated. "Think of all the days that are behind us now, for ever." She gave a ghostly little shiver and let Allan wrap her in his arms.
"But think of all the ones that are in front of us," Allan reminded her, and as the good folks in the house cheered and clapped, the new husband and wife kissed, standing in the snow, with a song in their hearts and the lights of New Moon washing over them.