have never met her . This is the first I have heard of his even dating her . He has not been in contact with me for some time . I must tell you that I received the news with mixed feelings . I tried to sound happy for him , but wondered why he never mentioned this girl to me . It doesn’t sound like Ryan .
She sensed the hurt in Martha’s words.
Poor Martha , she must be disappointed .
Ryan’s lack of communication probably hurt her more than the surprise announcement of his marrying a woman she’d never met.
The wedding is set for Saturday , June 16th , in San Diego , at the Hotel Del Coronado .
“June? That’s six months from now.”
One side of her said: There is still time. He’s not married yet. You can stop him. Go to him now while there’s still time.
The other side—the side she had grown to hate—said: He’s gone. Let him go. Be happy for him. There’s someone else for you. Get on with your life.
It was an emotional game of tug-of-war tearing at her heart, both sides pulling equally, keeping her from acting—unable to pursue Ryan and unable to get on with her life. Like a deer standing in the middle of a dark road, frozen, staring at the on-coming headlights of a Mac truck, unable to step aside; her dreams were about to be flattened forever. She read on…
I want you to be there with me . I know it will be hard for you , but please , I want you to come to the wedding . Do it for me .
I love you ,
Martha
How could she possibly watch the man she loved marry another woman? The image of the two of them standing at the altar, giving themselves to each other, made her feel abandoned and alone. She loved Martha and would do anything in the world for her, but how could she attend Ryan’s wedding?
She dropped the letter, buried her face in her hands and cried.
CHAPTER 20
The Wedding
The Hotel Del Coronado , San Diego , California
Saturday , June 16 , 1984 — 7 : 15 p . m .
Since hearing the news of Ryan’s engagement, Keri had written and mailed him five letters. He had either read the letters and trashed them, or never received them. She found it hard to believe none of her five attempts had reached him. If the letters had not been delivered, the post office would have surely returned them to the return address on the envelope.
By the time she’d written the third letter, it was obvious he must have received at least one of them, read it, and chosen not to contact her. Her last two attempts sounded more like desperate pleas—cries from her heart—telling him how much she loved him and needed to see him, or talk to him.
The daily struggle in her heart continued, tugging in opposite directions, one side telling her to go find him; the other side growing more embarrassed, regretting she had ever written the first letter. She knew he had loved her at one time, but if he still loved her, he would have contacted her. Time ran out.
Keri arrived at the Hotel Del Coronado alone. She wore a cute sleeveless mid thigh-length fitted dress. It was the only dress she owned that was black, and black was the only color she felt appropriate for the occasion.
She asked the concierge, “Can you direct me to the Mitchell wedding? I believe it is being held on Windsor Lawn.”
The concierge pointed toward the back of the lobby. “Just through those open doors and onto the patio. You can’t miss it.”
“Thank you.”
Perched on the patio, she gazed-out over Windsor Lawn extending from the beautiful Victorian hotel out toward the Pacific Ocean. The gathering of guests resembled a look-alike contest for the cast of the television soap series Dynasty , or Dallas . Women with their big hair, shoulder pads, and loads of sparkling jewelry, decorated the lawn in a colorful sea of fuchsia pink, sea green, purple, royal blue, and red.
Beyond the crowd were rows of evenly spaced white chairs atop a manicured green lawn; the Pacific Ocean in the distance. Potted pink hydrangeas hung from strategically placed
She sensed the hurt in Martha’s words.
Poor Martha , she must be disappointed .
Ryan’s lack of communication probably hurt her more than the surprise announcement of his marrying a woman she’d never met.
The wedding is set for Saturday , June 16th , in San Diego , at the Hotel Del Coronado .
“June? That’s six months from now.”
One side of her said: There is still time. He’s not married yet. You can stop him. Go to him now while there’s still time.
The other side—the side she had grown to hate—said: He’s gone. Let him go. Be happy for him. There’s someone else for you. Get on with your life.
It was an emotional game of tug-of-war tearing at her heart, both sides pulling equally, keeping her from acting—unable to pursue Ryan and unable to get on with her life. Like a deer standing in the middle of a dark road, frozen, staring at the on-coming headlights of a Mac truck, unable to step aside; her dreams were about to be flattened forever. She read on…
I want you to be there with me . I know it will be hard for you , but please , I want you to come to the wedding . Do it for me .
I love you ,
Martha
How could she possibly watch the man she loved marry another woman? The image of the two of them standing at the altar, giving themselves to each other, made her feel abandoned and alone. She loved Martha and would do anything in the world for her, but how could she attend Ryan’s wedding?
She dropped the letter, buried her face in her hands and cried.
CHAPTER 20
The Wedding
The Hotel Del Coronado , San Diego , California
Saturday , June 16 , 1984 — 7 : 15 p . m .
Since hearing the news of Ryan’s engagement, Keri had written and mailed him five letters. He had either read the letters and trashed them, or never received them. She found it hard to believe none of her five attempts had reached him. If the letters had not been delivered, the post office would have surely returned them to the return address on the envelope.
By the time she’d written the third letter, it was obvious he must have received at least one of them, read it, and chosen not to contact her. Her last two attempts sounded more like desperate pleas—cries from her heart—telling him how much she loved him and needed to see him, or talk to him.
The daily struggle in her heart continued, tugging in opposite directions, one side telling her to go find him; the other side growing more embarrassed, regretting she had ever written the first letter. She knew he had loved her at one time, but if he still loved her, he would have contacted her. Time ran out.
Keri arrived at the Hotel Del Coronado alone. She wore a cute sleeveless mid thigh-length fitted dress. It was the only dress she owned that was black, and black was the only color she felt appropriate for the occasion.
She asked the concierge, “Can you direct me to the Mitchell wedding? I believe it is being held on Windsor Lawn.”
The concierge pointed toward the back of the lobby. “Just through those open doors and onto the patio. You can’t miss it.”
“Thank you.”
Perched on the patio, she gazed-out over Windsor Lawn extending from the beautiful Victorian hotel out toward the Pacific Ocean. The gathering of guests resembled a look-alike contest for the cast of the television soap series Dynasty , or Dallas . Women with their big hair, shoulder pads, and loads of sparkling jewelry, decorated the lawn in a colorful sea of fuchsia pink, sea green, purple, royal blue, and red.
Beyond the crowd were rows of evenly spaced white chairs atop a manicured green lawn; the Pacific Ocean in the distance. Potted pink hydrangeas hung from strategically placed
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