False Southern Gentility

It had been a year since Elizabeth had become engaged. As Christine held onto the bridesmaid's arm as she was walked down the aisle as 'moth of the bride', she could scarcely keep a tear from coming to her eyes.

She sat down steadily, her knees shaking. Michael walked Mary down the aisle behind her, whispering in hushed tones to Mary. Whispering things she pretended not to hear, but did.

"She'll be alright, Mary. Darling, if she's as happy as we are...then let the girl go off and get married. Happiness is not marked in age, nor in time, but in love." Michael said as they passed the place where Christine's parents would have sat at.

"I know." Mary said quietly. "Life isn't about time...not in the least." she whispered back as Christine smiled to the widow Ann-Marie in the front row.

As the procession took their seats, the wedding march began. As the doors opened, Christine's breath came short.

Christopher held onto their little girls arm. He didn't look as old as she had remembered him. Was he seventeen years older than she, or was it eighteen? She could not remember the specifics.

She had wasted half of her life, measuring out things. Affection. Honesty. Family. Money. Her little girl didn't look fifteen, either. She looked as if she had suddenly outgrown her body with maturity.

She did not want to take her eyes off of the pair. Elizabeth's making had been feverish, yet they had taken their time in their reunion. Elizabeth had been her baby, her sweet angel.

They had lived through so much. Wars. Flames. Death.

Death was the worst. Christine herself had seen the death of her two daughters, Grace and Abigail. Her babies. Grace had died before she had the chance to grow, to speak. Abigail, Abigail had grown, but she had missed so much with spite for herself.

Wars had come second to that. Their love had blossomed beneath the wartime speeches, beneath cannons and stale night air, beneath the flames that had brought a civilization to it's knees.

They had lived to see the world changed. To see The Confederacy fall to it's knees, never to rise again.

As she looked around at all the people she had seen throughout her life. Lorillard, Michael Bowles, Mary Threlkeld, Mrs. Marshland, and many others. She felt the blossoming of connection between them. A connection that she had never felt before.

She felt like one of them.

Christopher stopped at the alter, kissed Elizabeth's rosy cheek, and smiled.

"Who gives this woman away?"

Christine had never thought about her daughter being referred to as 'woman'. She was and would always be her baby, her little girl with eyes that sparkled and skin that glowed like ivory.

Christopher did not answer and Christine feared that, for once in his life, Christopher Rudd would not be able to muster words.

"Her--her mother and I--do." he managed as he grasped onto Elizabeth's hand, placed it on Albus's arm. "You will be good to her boy, for fear. Not from me, but from her mother." his voice was very serious, and Albus nodded.

"Friends and family, we are gathered here in the sight of holy matrimony..." the Priest began.

As Christopher took his seat beside Christine, she smiled. They were together. After many years of struggles, struggling over bumps--no--mountains! They were an fortress, an army that could withstand even the sharpest of bayonets.

"To join this woman, Elizabeth Jewel Rudd, and this man, in holy matrimony. If anyone has any objections to the joining of this man and woman, speak now or forever hold your peace."

Christine felt Christopher's arm stir, but as she slipped her hand into his, his movement stopped and he gripped onto her.

"Repeat after me." as the Priest spoke. Christine held onto Christopher's arm.

They had shared in so much throughout their life. So much pain for a lifetime, no normal human being would be able to withstand such torture.

But they weren't normal people, they were Threlkelds, Rudds, they came from stronger stock than that. And they knew it. They were not weak as usual people, they were beautiful.

"I now pronounce you, man and wife. You may kiss the bride." The Priest said as Albus leaned close to her and kissed her.

Christine's eyes teared as the crowd erupted into a roar of clapping.

In her mind Christine reflected on the words that had been said at the marriage of herself and Christopher.

Be appeased, O Lord, by our humble prayers, and in Your kindness assist this institution of marriage which You have ordained for the propagation of the human race; so that this union made here, joined by Your authority, may be preserved by Your help. Through the same our Lord Jesus Christ, Your Son, Who lives and reigns with You in the unity of the Holy Spirit, God, world without end. Amen.

As they stood and walked out of the front doors. Christine smiled.

"Christopher," Christine said as she turned to him. "do you love me?"

He smiled. "Why, Mrs. Rudd, what a question."

"Do you?" she asked again.

He smiled again. "Always have, always will."

Christine smiled. "You know, I never did understand you." she said as they loaded their carriage.

He smiled. "Maybe you'll learn. There is time yet."

And they both laughed.