Gold, Fire & Refinement

Chapter Fifty-Two

"The golden age is before us, not behind us." ~William Shakespeare

On the lawn next to the lake, Bettina McNeese was with the groom's family sitting in the front-center rows of white satin covered chairs, and every nerve in her body was on edge. Straining her neck, she could see Harvey waiting behind the fountain, looking toward his dad and his stepmother. A sharp pain shot through her stomach when Harvey smiled at his parents in the same moment his dad and his stepmother shared a quick kiss. It happened after they looked at and admired the altar, obviously proud of how Harvey and Zarah were honoring R. T.'s Jewish heritage on their wedding day.

No matter how she tried, Bettina couldn't make it feel right. R. T. Wilson's name was all over everything she saw. It was all-to-clear—a man she detested had helped plan this part of her grandson's wedding ceremony. R. T.'s mother was Jewish, so, when he was growing up, he went to a synagogue, not a church. It angered Bettina that she had to sit and watch her grandson honoring his father's faith that day by mixing in Jewish traditions with Christian ones.

She gazed once again at the central point of the altar. There she saw a canopy she learned was called a chuppah. She'd never seen one before her lawn was decorated with this, so Harvey had to explain it. He told her he and Zarah would stand underneath it, and that in Jewish marriage ceremonies, it symbolized a shelter, a home for the new bride and groom. "But you're not Jewish," she said, after he told her what it was. He just smiled, then he said it was a special touch he and Zarah both wanted as part of their ceremony to honor his Jewish heritage. They wanted to show how proud they were to have his father's heritage as part of their own. It made Bettina want to cry. Her favorite grandson was proud to be part Jewish. She sat up straighter in her seat as she turned her head away from the altar. She decided to focus on her still-green front lawn instead, to take her mind off of her misery for a minute. Since her fall flowers and foliage were in full bloom they too were part of the wedding décor. The mansion, her greatest material source of pride, was serving as background for the ceremony, and it was spectacular as a backdrop. The antebellum structure was glimmering in soft and romantic gold and white lighting that set off its six-thousand square feet of porches. She decided to just keep her eyes fixed on her home, a magnificent and beautiful sight, until it was time for her to do what she had to do.

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Professional videographers and photographers quietly captured all aspects of the event. Men and women with cameras, while taking pictures or filming moving images, were not able to stop their faces from registering awe. The vast estate's beautiful lawn and colorful flowering plants and trees were all impressive and perfect. Since the illustrious wedding was being held outside, the black-owned company chosen to capture the wedding images would have work samples that would amplify their brand and make their bottom line sing a happy song for many years to come.

The bride was in hiding behind a tall, expansive, latticed wall of flowers in back of where guests were being seated. With a big smile on her face, through the holes in the wall of flowers, she looked on at six young boys who were serving as ushers for her big day. All dressed in white three-piece suits, they young men were all members of either her or Harvey's family, and were from six to thirteen years old. After lots of practice, the boys were perfectly poised and courteous little gentlemen as they met guests at the walkway and then guided them to their seats.

Zarah always dreamed that ushers would seat guests on her wedding day as orchestra music played in the background. She just never imagined a live orchestra would be playing it. Not even thinking of suggesting they hire one, one day she told Harvey about her dream, and after that, the orchestra became his only insistence for the ceremony. Seated in the estate's lakeside gazebo was a forty-member chamber orchestra now playing "Concerto in E Major La Primavera" by Antonio Vivaldi. Although it was fall, as the music suggested, guests seemed to sense the aura of spring—happy, enchanting songs of birds and gentle, rain-washed breezes bringing faint whispers and fragrances of flowers in bloom.