My Blue River (53 page)

I took another look at the invitation, searching for information about what church and what time.

What am I thinking? Actually, I do know what I’m thinking…I’m thinking…Jack’s my forever love.

40.  Prayers

The problem with my plan to stop Jack from marrying Hannah was that it had literally turned into stopping a wedding. My only option was the flight arriving in Middleburg at three-thirty, Saturday afternoon, and the wedding was at four o’clock.

I only had a carry-on bag so boarding the flight was relatively easy; however, once seated, the pilot announced a delay on the jet-way. I was just on the brink of a panic attack when the airplane finally began to move. I let out a heavy sigh of relief. Once we were in the air, I pondered my next steps. I knew I might not find a cab. They didn’t line up knowing they’d get customers like in big cities. I needed a rental car;
yes—a rental car—that will be faster.
Even though Middleburg wasn’t a very big city, I was barely going to arrive in time to rent a car and get to St. Peter’s Catholic Church. This would be an extremely close call, if it even worked at all.

The flight seemed endless, but I knew it could have only been a one hour flight and it still would have seemed endless to me. We arrived right on time—three o’clock. I shoved my way past people, offering obligatory apologies along the way. I told myself that if they only knew why I was being so rude, they would understand. They would spread apart as Moses did the Red Sea. It was just that important.

I found one person at the counter of the car rental agency. The pimple-faced kid behind the desk looked young and seemed to be inexperienced. I prayed he didn’t wear a name tag that read, “Please be patient with me—I’m new.” He finalized the transaction for the older lady in front of me, but she continued to talk. When she started to babble on and on about something that had absolutely nothing related to renting a car, I tapped my foot impatiently then finally cleared my throat. She glanced back at me with a snide look, but got the hint. She thanked Mr. Pimple and moved along.

“Hi. I need a car—and fast,” I impatiently told him.

“Okay, well, let me see what we have.” He punched the keyboard of the computer. He browsed it momentarily and said, “We have a Pontiac Grand Prix. Will that work?”

“Does it have an engine and four wheels?” I sarcastically asked.

He looked perplexed by a question that should have been a simple “yes” for an
answer.

“Never mind. Yes. Thank you. That will be just fine,” I replied in a kinder tone.

I would have slipped him a sizable tip to avoid the paperwork, but he looked as though he wouldn’t really understand the idea. I rushed my way through the paperwork, tossed him my driver’s license and a credit card. I started to strum my nails on the countertop. He glanced at my hands as if to say, “Please stop. You’re making me nervous.” I stopped and offered myself to prayer. I hadn’t prayed in years so I had to have faith that God still listened to people like me.
Please God—get me to the church on time!

He examined my driver’s license and found a snag in the transaction. Being under the age of twenty-five, I would need to pay some extra fees. He started to tell me the details, but I pulled the papers away and declared, “Yeah, I get it. Where do I sign?”

He rolled his eyes at my actions, but continued with the transaction. After what seemed like an eternity, he finally announced, “You’re all set! Here’s your credit card and your keys.”

I signed the credit card receipt and snatched the keys from the counter. I was already running away when I hollered, “Thank you!”

The attendant took his sweet time finding my car. He rolled up, got out, and I hopped in. I wasn’t sure if I remembered where the church was. I knew it was on Maple Street. I thought about the directions while I drove away. Time was of the essence. Forty minutes had passed since I had departed the airplane. My heart beat faster and faster with each passing mile.

I managed to remember where the church was, which was in an older part of town, right in the center of the city. I weaved in and out of traffic, trying to not break any laws. If I had to stop and take care of a speeding ticket I without a doubt would not get to the church on time. The seconds ticked into minutes.
Crap. Crap. Crap. I won’t make it!
With each red light, I thought my chest would burst open.
Okay, God. I know I haven’t been the best, but if you could just do me a solid I would truly appreciate it. You might even say I owe you one.

The light instantly turned green as I finished my prayer.
Maybe God IS listening
. Funny how I always turn to God in crises mode, not when I should—on an everyday basis—thanking him for the blessings I have. I vowed to give more attention to my prayers in the near future.

I arrived at the church at four-fifteen. The ceremony would already be in progress but I had to continue. Ideally, I would have preferred to find Jack alone but nothing had ever gone smoothly for us in the past so why would it now? I had the sinking feeling I was too late but I bolted for the entrance anyway. Fifteen minutes is a lot in wedding ceremony terms. I reached the large, wooden double doors of St. Peter’s, flung them open and entered the foyer. I grabbed the handles of the next set of double doors but stopped.
Can I really do this?
I pictured Jack’s face—I pictured the first time we met, I pictured him jumping off The Cliffs, I pictured star gazing with him, I pictured him serenading me under my bedroom window—
and yeah—hell, yeah—I can do this!

41. The Box

I flung the doors open and ran full speed down the aisle. I knew every eye was on me, wondering what was happening with the insane girl who was yelling, “
Jack, stop! Please, stop!”
The bride and groom were turning to face me when
BAM!
I tripped on my own two feet, with a little help from my flip-flops. I landed face down.
Damn you plastic aisle runner!
Damn you feet!
I knew the day would come that running in flip-flops was a bad idea!

I slowly rose from the floor, running my fingers through my hair and readjusting my clothes. I didn’t look up—I couldn’t. I couldn’t bear the looks I would get in return but aside from the small gasps, the room fell silent. The truth was I really didn’t know what I would say so my speech was unprepared. I just knew I needed to stop this wedding. So far, it looked like I had accomplished that much. I had assumed I would figure the rest out later, but "later" had become "right now," and I now stood in the church, not really knowing what to say.

My voice quivered as I said, “Jack. You can’t do this. I know you don’t love her like you love me.”

I heard a voice ask, “Excuse me? Who the hell are you?”

My head snapped up. The bride and groom were unknown faces. I had no idea who they were. I had just stopped the wedding of a couple who were probably deeply in love. My jaw hit the floor in disbelief as I looked around and realized I knew absolutely no one in this church.

“I—am—so—sorry,” I backed down the aisle, looking to each side and offering apologies to their guests. I looked back to the bride and groom. “Again, I’m so sorry.”

I turned and ran back down the aisle until I flew out the doors like a cannon ball. I needed to catch my breath and let my heart relax. I took a seat on the bricks of the church marquee, but not before reading it. It read, “Thompson-Lawrence Wedding.”

Smooth, Addy. Well done.

I must have been sitting there for a long time because the wedding party began to exit the church. As I put my face into my hands and began to cry, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up to see it was the Priest. “My child, you seem to be in need of comfort today,” he said. He had a strong Irish accent. I forced a smile. It seemed strange that an Irish Father was in a place like Middleburg, Montana.

“Yes, Father, I am. I’m the fool who tried to stop the wrong wedding.”

“I saw that. May I ask your name?” he asked.

“My name is Adelaide.” Being in the presence of a Priest, I felt that I should be formal.

“Ah, Adelaide. Such a beautiful name,” he replied.

“Thank you.” I stood. “I’m so sorry Father. I should go apologize to the bride and groom.” But I couldn’t seem to move in their direction. We both looked over at the wedding party. The bride and groom were all smiles, giving hugs and kisses to family and friends.

“I think they’ve probably already forgotten—for now, at least. I think you can go ahead and leave in peace.” He hesitated. “Adelaide, may I ask what groom’s wedding you were hoping to stop?”

“Jack Cooper. I needed to stop Jackson Cooper…but I was too late. The time change…I don’t know…I thought I had the right time and place, I guess I read the invitation wrong.” My voice cracked.

His eyebrows arched as he nodded in understanding. It was as though I had just given him the final piece of a puzzle he’d been missing.

“Ah, yes. The Parker-Cooper wedding.” He looked at me thoughtfully for a moment then said, “I think you’ll be pleased to know that wedding was, well…that wedding was cancelled two days ago.” An Irish smile touched the Father’s eyes.

I think I’m in shock
. “Excuse me? What did you say?”

“I said, the Parker-Cooper wedding was cancelled two days ago and eager Miss Thompson snapped up the date immediately thus, the reason you interrupted a very small, rather informal wedding.”

Tears began to swell in my eyes as I stood. I should have stayed seated because my legs failed me and I started to drop to the ground. The Father quickly reached for my arm and guided me to my seat. I couldn’t wait. I had to ask. “Do you know why?” I bit my lower lip as I waited for his response.

He paused for so long that the suspense was killing me. He smiled and replied, “I believe the groom happened to love…someone else.” He reached and patted my shoulder. “Good luck, my child.”

Nothing could quell the excitement that filled my body as I flew into the Father’s arms. “Thank you, Father! Thank you!” I exclaimed.

I ran with what felt like lightning speed to the Grand Prix. I started it and headed for the highway that would lead me to Blue River and to Jack but I didn’t get far. The dashboard indicator told me I had a flat tire. I pounded my hands on the steering wheel.
This can’t be happening! Doesn't fate know that I’m trying to rewrite My Blue River?

I got out and started to walk back to the church when I was greeted part-way by a wedding guest who was kind enough to offer a helping hand.

“I can’t thank you enough,” I told him.

“Oh, no. Thank
you
. You’ve made my year. The bride is my cousin and she’s kind of a…well…she’s not very nice, let’s just put it that way.” He laughed and thanked me again. He was young and attractive and introduced himself as Shawn.

As he fixed my flat tire, he continued to tell me about his cousin, the bride, saying she was a control freak and completely insane about perfection so my interruption was probably her worst nightmare come true. He called her a
Bridezilla
.

He said, “I mean, seriously, I about wet myself when you face planted and the look on her face! Man, I hope somebody got a picture of that! I haven’t laughed that hard in a really long time.”

“Nice,” I said flatly. “Glad I could make you happy.” I kept looking at my watch. Despite the fact he was doing me a huge favor, I wished he would hurry with the tire change and drop the recap of today’s embarrassing events.

He finished the tire change then stood to face me and said, “Okay, all done. Seriously, I can’t thank you enough. That was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”

I flushed with embarrassment as I thanked him. We said our goodbyes and as he walked away, I could hear him start laughing again.

Okay, Addy. Focus. What’s next?
I considered my next move. Knowing I wanted to surprise him meant calling him was out of the question.
But what if I am the one who will be surprised?
My heart couldn’t take it. I grabbed my cell phone and entered speed dial 1—Dad. No answer. I then entered speed dial 2—Mom. I couldn’t even reach speed dial 3—Aaron. No one answered.
Where is everybody? Don’t they know I’m having a crisis?
I now regretted removing any phone numbers that had to do with the Cooper family; I didn’t even have his parent’s home number anymore and I never memorized numbers anymore. Everyone was on speed dial or in my contact list. I then realized I didn’t even know where Jack lived these days so driving to his parent’s house was the obvious next move.

I started my westward journey to Blue River when I noticed I was well over the speed limit, I lifted my foot from the accelerator. Like my dad always said, it was better to get there in one piece than not get there at all. I tried not to speed.
What will I say if I find him? How will I say it?
Maybe I wasn’t the
“someone else”
Jack loved so much that he was willing to call off his wedding. Maybe he called the wedding off for a different girl.
Is that a ridiculous thought?
I couldn’t be sure since I had been wrong about so much over the years.

My mind wandered as I drove past the lush, green landscape. The fields were being watered by their large irrigation systems. Water sprayed out over the crops. Some fields had horses running through them while others had meandering cows. Other fields lay wide-open donned with wildflowers. It felt like time had come to a complete halt and I was being given a chance to truly recognize the beauty of Montana.
Jack’s right. This is God’s country
. I felt completely at peace with calling Montana my home. He was right about his waterfall analogy, too. If we just kept loving each other, our waterfall would never run dry. I had chosen to make things harder than they needed to be by trying to chase and catch a ripple in the river instead of just going with the flow. It felt like I was once again chasing water and would never catch Jack before it was too late.

Long before I was prepared to do so, I was driving down the long, familiar driveway of the Cooper residence. As I reached the house, I could see that his mom’s car was parked in the back
. Thank God! She's home!
I had been through too much to wonder if I could do this, and yet when I stepped out of the car, I couldn’t bring myself to move. I just stood there, staring at the house. Before long, Sharon was coming out the backdoor and walking in my direction. She slapped a dish towel over one shoulder just before reaching for me. We embraced; her hug was hearty and loving.

I released her and stepped back. “I guess you can imagine why I’m here,” I decided to cut to the chase.

She smiled and held my face. Her eyes glistened. “It’s about time young lady.”

“Sharon, I’m not sure what’s happened, but I need to find him and find him fast.”

“Well, you know Jack doesn’t live here anymore.”

I sighed in frustration.
My stubbornness had caused me so much grief
. I cursed myself for not knowing where he lived. I prayed she wasn’t about to tell me he’d moved to Wyoming. “No, actually, I didn’t know that in fact, I don’t seem to know anything these days.” I wearily replied.

“When I saw you get out of the car, I prayed it only meant one thing so I wrote down his address for you and drew a quick map.” She handed me a slip a paper. “I'm sure you'll know it when you see it."

“Actually, I don’t know where this is, Sharon. I've never seen an address in Blue River with this street name."

“It’s right by The Beach.” She was smiling broadly now, almost pleased with herself and proud of her son. She gave me another hug.

“It’s movin’ on sunset, so you’d best get going. Good luck, Addy.”

I hugged her one last time then got back in the Grand Prix.
A house by The Beach? There’s not a house by The Beach.

My heart was about to implode.
This day is becoming way too much for my heart to handle
. I could see the headlines now, “Woman’s Heart Fails While Trying to Profess Her Undying Love.” That would be big news in Blue River. I maniacally laughed at my own joke.

I knew my way to The Beach but once I arrived, I knew I had never needed the map. There was only one road and one home near the river. It was the most beautiful home I had ever seen. The front of the single story home was covered with river rock. There were several peaks to the roof line, with the highest peak on the backside of the house. The home was on a breathtaking sprawl of land I was familiar with. I double checked the address and it was definitely the "X" on the map Sharon had quickly sketched.

Oh my…! This is Jack’s house!
I got out of the Grand Prix and went to the trunk of the car. I opened my carry-on bag, removing the shoebox I had sense enough to pack when I left California. Subconsciously, I must have known I would need this. It was time to divulge what was either the real Addy, or the new Addy. Either way, Jack was about to know the extent of my love.

My legs could barely carry me to the front door. I looked around, remembering the day I told Jack I could picture a home on the very spot I now stood. I knocked on the door, but no one answered. I rang the doorbell, but no one answered. I had nothing left to lose so I walked to the back of the home and when I did, I sucked in a breath. It wasn’t a one story house. It was a two story house and its backside revealed a walkout basement with huge, picture windows. Even though I wasn’t standing inside, I knew the view was the Blue River and an amazing sunset which was blazing with reds, pinks, blues and purples. The highest peak was a turret, like a turret made just for a princess. I took a quick moment to appreciate the beauty of the home then resumed my search.