“Harlan, we can’t do this.”
“Why not?” He knew the idea sounded crazy, but it was only temporary. “We’ll stay married until—” He hated saying the words knowing they’d hurt Belle. “Until your grandmother’s memories fade. What’s a few months or even a year?”
“More like a few weeks at the rate she’s regressing.” Belle stared at her hands.
“However long, we’ll get married, live our separate lives like we already do. We’ll meet up here and visit her together, and then we’ll have it annulled.”
“How will we explain the lack of guests?”
“We can ask the employees to fill in for a few minutes. It will be fast.”
Belle stared up at him. “We can’t get a marriage license by tomorrow.”
“There’s no waiting period in Montana, but we would need to see the county clerk before she leaves today. If we sign the blood test waiver, we’ll be good to go. Besides, like you said, I owe you a wedding. It’s the least I can do.”
“Or we can hire a fake reverend,” Belle said.
“We could.” Harlan crouched down in front of her again. “But knowing you the way I do—or the way I used to—I think lying to your grandmother about something this big would bother you. I saw the look on your face in there when you told her she’ll go home soon. You hated lying to her. I don’t think you’d go through with this if it wasn’t real.”
“I would go through hell to make my grandmother happy.”
“There you have it. What’s more hellacious than marrying me on our not-so-wedding anniversary?”
“Ha!” Belle held out her hand to him. “You’ve got that right.”
He took her hand between both of his, causing her to shake her head. “What?”
“It’s supposed to be a handshake, Harlan.” She withdrew her hand and offered it again. “We’re making a deal, so let’s shake on it. And in case I don’t say it later, thank you for doing this.”
This was the second craziest thing Harlan had ever done. The first had been walking out on Belle. “Let’s get hitched.”
Belle didn’t like to wait. She hated it. Utterly despised it. Waiting meant something bad was about to happen. She’d waited for her mom to come back to the hotel room and she never had. She’d waited for Harlan in the church and he had never returned. Here she was, waiting once again on her wedding day. Granted she was there three hours early, but that was only at her grandmother’s insistence. Trudy may have forgotten many things, but every last detail of Belle and Harlan’s wedding remained fresh in her mind. A little too fresh. What made Belle think she could possibly go through with marrying Harlan? Any recollection of their first wedding left her stomach in knots.
“You look beautiful, Bubbe.” Her grandmother had been calling her Bubbe, short for bubbeleh, since the day she picked her up in Texas. It meant darling and was Trudy’s little term of endearment reserved solely for Belle. Something so simple and yet she knew she would miss it one day soon. Trudy would regress to a point where she no longer remembered her. Belle’s heart physically ached at the thought. “I loved that dress on you the moment we saw it in the store.”
Dress shopping with Trudy had been her favorite part of planning her original wedding. She’d tried on countless gowns while her grandmother waited patiently. The instant she stepped into the simple strapless A-line with delicate bodice beading, she knew it was the dress.
As beautiful as the gown was, Belle wanted to tear it off and burn it. She’d attempted to once, but her grandmother told her she would one day regret that decision. So she packed it away and stored it in a cold dark corner of the basement with the wedding rings. When she cleaned out Trudy’s house, she’d contemplated throwing the dress out. Thinking someone might have better luck with it, she opted to consign it. Six months later, the shop returned the dress to her when it hadn’t sold. It had been sitting in a storage unit with some of her grandmother’s belongings ever since. After Trudy had drilled her over its whereabouts first thing this morning, she’d spent an hour climbing around the storage unit until she found the blasted thing. She had hoped it wouldn’t still fit. Unlucky for her, it did.
“I can’t believe you wanted to wear a sundress today.”
“Grammy, it’s hot out. It was only a suggestion.” Belle flashed back to the morning of her first wedding. She’d been so happy and thrilled to begin a new life with Harlan.
Today brought a fresh start in a different way—a sense of closure. And she needed that to rid herself finally of the man she loved. Well, once loved. Her heart had slammed the door on that emotion long ago.
“You’re putting your hair up, right?” her grandmother asked.
“Yes.” Belle stared at her reflection in the mirror. She had to pull herself together and tamp down the desire to run for the nearest exit. If only she could draw the curtain on the disastrous movie of her first wedding that kept replaying in her head. Thankfully they weren’t doing this in the church again. Belle had her limits and that would have pushed them to the max. She inhaled deep, summoning the strength and courage to get through the day and make her grandmother happy. Grabbing a brush and bobby pins from her bag, she gathered her hair into a low ponytail. “I’m wearing it in a French twist.”
“I loved that style the best out of all the ones Matilda showed us. Too bad she came down with a cold this morning.”
Matilda had been her grandmother’s hairdresser since the beginning of time. She’d been the master of the updo, but had died three years earlier.
“That’s all right, I can manage.” Despite her nerves about facing Harlan again wearing the same dress, with the same hairstyle, holding the same rings and set to recite the same vows, she enjoyed these quiet moments with her grandmother. She didn’t know how many more they had left. As painful as reliving the past was, she wouldn’t trade it in for anything in the world. She’d always thought it was impossible to turn back the hands of time, but that wasn’t entirely true. Now if she could only figure out how to stop time, she’d be set.
Samantha had become an impromptu wedding planner, buzzing around the nursing home and getting all the ambulatory residents ready to attend the ceremony. She even found time to put together a lovely bridal bouquet of fresh cut flowers from the garden. A few times, Belle had to remind herself that none of it was real.
Samantha popped her head in the door. “Are you ready? Your groom is waiting.”
This was the day she wished Harlan hadn’t shown up.
“I’m ready,” she lied. No amount of primping would make her ready either. At least she looked the part. A nurse’s aide came in and helped Trudy into a wheelchair. The walk down the corridor to the garden seemed a mile long. Her stomach twisted as Myra opened the door. And that’s when she saw them.
“Who invited all those people?” She glared at Myra.
“We thought you did,” Myra whispered as the aide and Trudy passed them. “We’ll be right there,” she said to Trudy.
“I did no such thing.” Belle’s pulse quickened. “We wanted to keep this quiet.” But they knew. They all knew. Probably thanks to the county clerk, Harlan’s boss, most of the nurses and the residents at the facility. When you get married in a small town, everybody knows. “Close the door.” Belle collapsed against the corridor wall, gasping for air. “I can’t do this.”
“Yes, you can.” Myra removed a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed Belle’s forehead. “Far be it from me to pry, but I think I’ve known you long enough to understand why you’re marrying