On Claire and David’s wedding day, a mysterious elderly woman arrives on their driveway to read Claire’s palm. Claire, doubting the practice, is doubtful. until the old woman discloses too-accurate information to be a fabrication.
I had my dream wedding morning. It was crazy, exciting, and full of love. My bridesmaids were arriving shortly, and we planned a champagne-topped charcuterie board lunch.
I was marrying David, my best friend and the man who made me believe in forever, with my dress in its garment bag. Our wedding would differ. As David and I were getting married on a yacht at night, we had the entire day to prepare for our lasting marriage.
I thought so.
I put on my mask and went outside to greet my floral delivery man. I wanted it delivered last minute so the buds wouldn’t wilt.
When I got to the driveway to wait for the delivery vehicle, I saw her.
She was by my front yard path. A wrinkled old woman with wild gray hair and clothing that hadn’t been washed in weeks.
She looked tattered, yet her eyes were keen and almost piercing. She seemed unsettlingly quiet.
She shouted out, “Child,” softly but authoritatively. Come closer, Child.”
I hesitated. Although my instincts advised me to ignore her and walk back inside, her look stopped me. I went toward her against my better judgment. Maybe she was hungry. I could make her tea and a sandwich and send her out.
It was my wedding day. How can I send an elderly woman away?
She extended her hand, “Let me see your hand, Child.” “Read your palm. See what your palm lines suggest. Discover their secrets.”
I forced a grin, “I’m sorry.” “But I don’t really believe in that.”
A slight grin.
“You don’t have to believe, my dear,” she added. You must listen. Something may strike you.”
She softly grasped my hand before I could object. Her grasp was astonishing considering her frailty. Should have left, but didn’t.
“The man you are about to marry,” she said slowly as she stroked a palm line.
I asked “Yes?”
“His right thigh is marked? A heart-shaped birthmark?
I froze. A knot formed in my gut. I kept David’s birthmark a secret. How could she know?
“And his mother?” She continued, gaze fixed. His life didn’t include her, right? She’s dead, right?
A shudder ran down my spine as I nodded slowly.
“How do you know?”
Her look grew darker.
“Child, he’ll ruin your life. You can still decide! See into his closet’s stuffed rabbit for the truth.”
I lurched back, freeing my hand.
“What are you discussing?” I requested.
“Trust your instincts,” she said. Always remember, love founded on falsehoods crumbles.
I almost turned away, then my bouquet arrived. I grabbed it from the delivery man and ran inside, slamming the door. My heart hammered as her words entered my consciousness.
A stuffed rabbit.
David told me about the gift his mother gave him before she died. He stored it in his closet to save a bit of her.
I quickly removed my face mask and texted my bridesmaids.
I’ll let you know when I’m home after a little errand. We can rejoice then!
“Okay, Claire,” I said. “Find a stuffed bunny.”
David prepared at his dad’s place. I was alone and could do what I pleased. I wanted the truth.
Was the old woman rambling or was there more?
I took David’s bunny from his closet. The gray fur was ragged and faded, and I saw something new. A little back zipper.
Unzipping it sent my heart racing. A bundle of folded papers was within.
Why are you embarrassed, son? Do not leave me. I adore you.-Mom
Staring at the words, my chest tightened. Next note was more devastating.
Calling for weeks. Why not answer, David?
Then third:
Please let me see you once. Need to know you’re okay.
Slinking to the floor, my legs felt rubbery. David’s mother lived. She lived. She urgently wanted to know him. How had she sent him notes? Through the mail?
My revelation came immediately.
David lied to me. About his mother. Concerning something essential and intimate. My mind rushed to make sense of it. What made him lie? Was it shame? Manipulation?
Something darker?
I called him on my phone, trembling my fingers.
His voice was light: “Hey, Claire. “What’s up? No chilly feet?
“You need to come home,” I urged. “Now.”
“Is everything okay?” he inquired, worried.
“Please, David, arrive.” I hung up before he finished.
He was apprehensive when he came.
Claire, what’s up? We shouldn’t meet before the ceremony!”
He looked at me and then at the plush rabbit in my hands.
I asked, “Explain this,” holding out the notes.
His face paled. He opened his mouth but said nothing. Slumping onto the couch, he covered his face with his hands.
“It’s complicated, Claire,” he concludes.
“Complicated? How? David, you told me your mother died! You lied to me about enormous things. Why is that hard?
Lifting his head, tears filled his eyes.
“My dad made me choose between them. He said she wasn’t good enough after the divorce. He stated she was a mess, enjoyed beer, and only worked at eateries that gave her a chance. He promised a better life without her. Claire, I was young. Not knowing better.”
“And now? Your childhood is over! Since when have you ignored her? The girl begs to see you. Proof is these notes. Do you realize how harsh that is?
“I know,” he said. “I made a mistake. I was ashamed. Not knowing how to solve it.”
My heart broke and I felt defeated as I glanced at him. This dude was who?
You lied to me. How can I marry someone I don’t trust?
Face crushed.
“Please, Claire,” he pleaded. “Avoid this! Will fix it. Will visit her. I know her address. In a couple’s outbuilding. Apologize. Will do everything it takes.”
Inhaled deeply.
“Find her, David. Make amends. I can’t marry you till you do.”
His eyes widened in fear.
“Claire…”
“No, actions speak louder than words,” I interrupted. “Go.”
I couldn’t concentrate for hours. I contacted my bridesmaids again to cancel the wedding. The yacht was ready, people were arriving, and my parents and bridesmaids were constantly texting me.
Please fix it. A wedding is canceled. I’m OK. Do not return home; warn the guests and make sure they eat before leaving the yacht. Lots of love, gals.
I was preoccupied with David and the ghostly woman who warned me.
I heard a knock on my door around dusk. I opened it to see David standing with watery eyes and bowed shoulders.
But there was also comfort and tranquility.
“I found her,” he whispered. I apologised. I was forgiven.”
Nodding, my throat was too tight to speak.
He retreated.
Old woman from before stood behind him. Her silver hair shone in the fading light, and her keen, knowing eyes were filled with tears.
Voice cracking, David continued, “Claire. This is my mother.”
Her previous remarks weighed on me. She risked everything to warn me and free her kid from the lies that had separated them. Tell me the truth before it’s too late.
I said, “Thank you,” holding her.
She grinned.
Thanks for letting him find his way back.
David and I didn’t marry that day. He tried hard to repair his connection with his mother in the months that followed. During those months, I made sure his father answered him.
“Your father cannot be in my life unless he can explain why your mother found him ugly. David, she needs love and car. Do you believe your father made her seem older and worn out than her peers? Did this to her.”
“I know,” he answered, offering me tea. But what can I do? Ask why he’s so bad?
“Yes!” And I exclaimed.
True to his word, David met with his father and Alec confessed.
David, I didn’t want you to pick your mother. Instead of burdening you with her troubles, I should have taken care of her. I requested a divorce to avoid that burden. Now what? She returned and looks fragile. Totally my fault.”
David heeded his father’s advice, but I could see their relationship would be strained forever.
We got married in a tiny, personal ceremony with David’s mother, Estelle.
We took her for liver tests and therapy. As much as she wanted to be back with David, she wasn’t used to living with others, so we leased her a modest apartment.
Love doesn’t always require flawless beginnings. Finding your way back to the truth and those who matter most is key.
What would you’ve done?
