Lana smiles, gazing down at the ring upon her finger, disbelieving that the moment she had been dreaming about, the last walk she would ever take alone, is only a day away.
Blotting away the tiny tear that trickles across her powdered cheek, she holds the delicate embroidered handkerchief in her hand, allowing her thumb to gently graze the raised monogram whose letters match her own.
Of all the gifts in their elaborate packages that arrived with the name she's yet to sign, the smallest box held the most precious treasure: a small piece of linen that once dried her mother's tears. The reality that the young girl once dressed in tulle and ribbons will tomorrow wear white lace and pearls, trading in her wand now that her dream has come true, is just the fairytale ending she wished for, never thinking the prince would arrive wearing flannel.
Clinging to the remnant of material that her mother once held, Lana is tenderly reminded that although gone, her mom could still wipe away the tears that fall, both in joy or sorrow. As both emotions sweep over the blushing bride, Lana smiles, realizing the only gift her heart needed to receive was the one she didn't know existed. But now, as she cradles it in her hand, she feels complete, ready to continue the journey her mother could not, hoping she and Clark's future would be as perfect as this moment in her heart.
x X x X x
Clark reaches up into the closet pulling down the box that until now has been hidden beneath a heap of clutter on the back shelf.
Gently blowing the dust off the top, he holds the box in his hands, not realizing until this moment just how difficult tomorrow will be without his father by his side.
Pulling out the patent leather shoes that for years had been neatly tucked away with tissue, Clark smiles, thinking about his dad, wondering if the man who seemed to fear nothing was nervous the day he put on the shoes that lead him to his wife.
Carefully Clark holds one of the large shoes in his hand, softly buffing the toe with a cloth, trying to recapture the gleam that once shined. As he gazes down, beginning to see his reflection in the leather, his heart pounds, disbelieving that after tomorrow he would be a husband. Tomorrow, Lana would be his wife.
Feeling anxious with anticipation, he can't help but recall all the moments he spent gazing out his telescope, marveling at the darling girl just across the field, her beauty shining more brilliant than any star in the sky. How blessed he feels in this instant, knowing always she will shine her light into his life, illuminating the world with the love they share.
"Do they fit?" a voice softly asks.
Clark turns to see his mom standing in the doorway, her auburn hair beautifully aglow as it's kissed with the afternoon sun, her eyes sparkling with a hint of moisture this tender moment provides her.
"I'll make sure they do," Clark says, untying the laces. The truth is he would happily cram his toes into a matchbox if it meant having a piece of his father with him on the most special day of his life. How much he wishes he had just one more minute to seek his advice, to tell him how much he loves him.
Martha walks to Clark's side, taking the box from his hand, letting her fingers gently graze across his arm, comforting him from the bittersweet pain she sees in his eyes, the pain she feels herself.
"Love her always as much as he loved us," she says, her soft voice showing her incredible strength.
"I learned from the best," Clark says, honoring his father while touching his mother's heart.
x X x X x
Lana spins around in the stylist's chair, instantly summoning
tears as she sees a bride's reflection has replaced her own. Although it's just a trial run, her heart pounds as her fingertips caress the buds of baby's breath that frame her pretty face, her long dark hair twisted into coils that bounce as she brings her hand to her mouth.
"Oh my gosh," she breathes, suddenly flushed with the reality of being Mrs. Clark Kent.
Although dressed in worn denim, and a thin cotton shirt, she feels ready to give herself to him, and take him as her own.
x X x X x
The long blades of grass sway in the breeze as the gentle scent of the honeysuckle is teased off the vine, filling the air with a sweet symphony as nightfall looms just in the distance.
Cutting the endless blanket of green is a runner of white silk, specially laid out to greet the bride's footsteps, lacking only the ivory rose petals yet to be sprinkled.
As the workers unfold the chairs, creating rows which will soon host the guests, Clark stands in the hay door of the barn, holding his breath with the thought of seeing Lana batting her beautiful eyes beneath a layer of tulle, listening with her own baited breath as he vows to love her always.
Envisioning her standing beneath the lattice arch, his hands begin to sweat, eager to brush his lips against hers and forever seal their love with a kiss.
Gently, he leans his head against the worn wooden frame, contented with how beautiful their vision is being fulfilled; the picture perfect spot to join their lives at the juncture of where it all began. Every hand picked detail now unfolds before him, allowing the portrait in both their minds to come alive, transforming the humble farmland into a fairyland of dreams that are finally coming true.
Hidden within his fortress in the warmth of the setting sun, Clark lets his fingers find his old telescope, feeling suddenly sentimental about the dreams of the past.
Leaning down to peer into the lens, he focuses on the house where his beloved once slept, the one that will soon be their own. Slightly shifting his view, he's struck with the sensation that he has been swept back in time, seeing at the end of his gaze the girl who stole his heart.
Blinking against the image that takes his breath away, he adjusts the magnification to reveal indeed it is his love who is crossing the field to be near him, her long veil dancing behind her on the breeze.