Chapter 34 — A Rooster Crowed Twice
A rooster crowed twice. Stephanie roused from a dreamless sleep and stretched lazily. Drowsy; she listened for the rooster to crow again, but it didn’t. A rooster always crowed three times. It was bad luck if they didn’t. She stiffened. Her eyes widened. It wasn’t an ordinary day—at four o’clock this afternoon, she would marry Richard and would never be free to live as she saw fit again—a daunting life sentence would be imposed with two simple words “I do.”
She had a severe case of wedding jitters and tried to shake them. After breakfast, holding a mug of green tea, she went to the window in the drawing room and looked out. High on the hill at Stratford Place, she observed a swirl of activity: tents that looked like huge marshmallows filled the manicured lawn. White trucks full of flowers were lined up to be unloaded by the wedding planner’s assistants. Enormous bouquets of Southern peach roses mixed with trumpet shaped white Calla lilies, and tiny bell Lilies of the Valley with a touch of greenery would to be set on banquet tables, gazebo, and in the main parts of the house.
Oddly, Stephanie felt detached—unable to rid herself of the idea that something would prevent the wedding from taking place. Jitters or a premonition? She sighed deeply and told herself that every bride felt like this.
She went to the closet and took out her wedding veil, put it on her head, and adjusted it in the mirror. The reflection told her what she needed to know: she looked better than she felt. Her nerves weren’t showing.
“Mrs. Cooper,” she said aloud as she gazed solemnly into the mirror, trying to decide if she liked the sound of the name that would soon be hers.
A familiar voice behind her said, “How can you be Mrs. Cooper when you’re already, Mrs. Shrock?”
“Becca!” Stephanie squealed. “You scared the bejesus out of me.”
Becca crossed her arms. “It’s unlucky to try on your wedding veil before your wedding,” she said dryly.
Stephanie adjusted the veil. “That’s an old wives’ tale. Do you like my veil?”
Becca rolled her eyes. “I like plain and simple. You used to like it, too. I don’t know what happened. But I know one thing—a woman cannot be married to two men.”
Stephanie frowned. “Becca, are you deliberately trying to spoil my wedding day?” she scolded. “My marriage to Thomas wasn’t legal. I’m sure my father has taken care of it.”
Suddenly, there was a loud knock on the door. Stephanie started.
Becca looked out the window. “It’s the sheriff.”
Stephanie ran down the stairs with Brooks at her heels. She threw open the door. The sheriff and his deputy stood on the doorstep. “They’re parking the cars in the field across from Stratford Place,” she said, gesturing at Stratford Place.
“That’s not why we’re here, Steph,” the deputy said.
“Come in,” Stephanie said, forgetting that she was wearing her nightgown and her wedding veil.
The deputy held out the document, his hands trembling. She had always made him nervous, even in grade school. “Is this your signature?”
Stephanie shrugged. “Yes, it is, Robby. It’s nothing.”
“It’s Robert. I’m a deputy now,” he corrected.
“If this is your signature,” the sheriff said with a stern voice, “you’re married to Thomas Shrock. This is a legal document, and there were witnesses.” He was a short, stout man; his belt buckled below his large stomach. His broad brim felt hat sat atop his round babyface, making him appear taller, and he had a speech impediment. It took him forever to get his words out because he was nervous. He’d been tearing up Stephanie’s speeding tickets for years so that Judge wouldn’t know. But this was a serious matter not to be ignored.
“That’s impossible,” Stephanie protested. “It wasn’t a real ceremony; the woman was a sorceress. She isn’t a real minister.”
“So, it was like…hocus pocus…you’re married?” the sheriff asked.
“Sort of…,” Stephanie said, turning bright pink. “It didn’t take more than two minutes.”
“The woman who married you is Cynthia Crenshaw,” the sheriff said. “She graduated cum lude from Berkley, and has several degrees— one is in Theology. She’s a minister, the marriage license was recorded, and you are legally married to Thomas Shrock.”
“Does my father know?” Stephanie stammered.
“Yes. He’s trying to get the marriage annulled.”
Daniel had been silent when he came in the back door. He had heard everything. “I told you not to bother Stephanie about this,” he said sharply.
“She has to know,” the sheriff said forthright, “bigamy is a serious offense. It’s a crime punishable by six months in jail. I don’t want to do it, Stephanie, but if you go through with the wedding, I’ll have to take you to jail.”
Daniel crossed his arms. “We have five hundred people coming for a wedding, and Marguerite and Marsha are damned well going to have a wedding. I don’t have time to go through the loopholes to annul your marriage to Thomas. We’re going through with the wedding. It won’t be legal without the license. Later, we’ll have a small private ceremony and make it legal. It’s a mere technicality: a piece of paper.”
Daniel, a history buff, said, “Andrew Jackson married Rachael Donelson in 1790 when she was married to another man. And if the seventh President of the United States can do it, we sure as hell can do it. Her husband knew of their affair and eventually petitioned for a divorce. After they were married, they discovered Rachael’s divorce was never finalized. Eventually, her husband divorced her and Rachael, and Andrew Jackson had another wedding ceremony. We will do the same thing. Stephanie will have two weddings.”
Her father’s urgent haste to have her marry Richard did not set well with Stephanie. A marriage that was not valid did not make sense. “Would you really have me do that, Daddy? I doubt the priest would perform the ceremony if he knew I was already married.”
“Marguerite’s given thousands to the church,” Daniel said smugly. “The priest will do whatever she tells him to do.”
Stephanie pulled on her wedding veil nervously. “I don’t want to go to jail, Daddy…”
“It was a formality. No one is going to put the daughter of Daniel Stratford in jail. They don’t want to lose their job. Besides, five hundred guests from all over the United States have come to Brier Hill County for a wedding: The hotels in this area are all full; we’re shuttling people from Columbus from three hotels; the chefs began food preparation yesterday; the dance floor has been set up in the tent—and the orchestra is rehearsing; Three six-tier wedding cakes are sitting in the dining room. Three magazines are sending photographers. We are going through with the ceremony.”
Stephanie felt light-headed. She’d never felt so much pressure. Always the obedient daughter, she said, “I’ll do it, Daddy, if that’s what you want.” She paused and said, “Does Richard know that Thomas won’t give me an annulment?”
“Yes, he knows,” Daniel said. “He agrees with me. We have to move forward. We can’t let an Amish man put a wrench in the wedding. Richard is with Bradley. They’re having lunch and a drink with the wedding planner—going over the wedding details.
Stephanie could not hide her reluctance; and found herself wanting to run away. “Maybe I should go up to the house with you and speak to Richard about this.”
“You can’t go up there and stir things up,” Daniel barked. “Do you have any idea why you are not allowed at Stratford Place?”
“Because Marguerite and Marsha want to surprise me with everything they’ve done.”
“That’s part of the reason, but the real reason is that you and Richard fight like cats and dogs, and we don’t need conflict right before the wedding. Everyone has been walking on eggs—every time Richard’s cell phone rings, we all freeze. Come hell or high water; you are going to be married at four o’clock today. The horse-drawn carriage will arrive at precisely three forty-five. When you walk out that door, the photographers are going to start the photo shoot. For once in your life—cooperate.”
Stephanie dropped her eyes. “I didn’t realize that I was so much trouble to everyone,” she said sadly. “But I have cause for concern. I’m legally married to Thomas.”
After everyone left, Stephanie slumped down in a chair, and Becca went to make tea.
She was deep in thought when Becca set a cup of tea down on the end table.
“What am I going to do, Becca?” Stephanie asked, hoping Becca wouldn’t say something like, the sun will come out tomorrow or your ship will come in some day.
“Call Thomas,” Becca said. “Maybe he’ll sign the papers.”
“He’d be stupid not to sign the papers,” Stephanie huffed. “Maddie Yoder is pregnant.”
Becca’s mouth gaped. “Young Thomas would not do such a thing. He’s a deacon.”
“It’s true. Richard told me we’re invited to their wedding.”
“He has it all wrong. Maddie is marrying Eli Hershberger. He’s the father of her child. Thomas is officiating at the wedding, along with Bishop Jon. Thomas is marrying them—not marrying her.”
Stephanie’s hand went to her heart. “All this time, I thought Thomas was marrying Maddie.”
“Why would he marry Maddie?” Becca asked. “Thomas is married to you.”
Stephanie put her hand on her forehead. “That’s quite enough, Becca,” she said, trying to regain her composure, secretly pleased that Thomas was not getting married.
“Your tea’s getting cold,” Becca said. “And take that silly veil off your head?”
Stephanie jerked the veil off, tossing it over her head. Then she picked up the phone. “If you don’t mind, Becca, I’d like some privacy. I’m calling Thomas.”
Becca grinned and dashed out of the room.
Stephanie dialed the number, her face apprehensive. “Thomas, do you have a minute? There’s a problem. Could you stop by the courthouse and sign the annulment papers? It seems we’re still married.”
“That’s true,” Thomas said smugly. “You can’t get a marriage license.”
“Don’t joke about it. I really need you to sign the papers.”
“I don’t want an annulment. An Amish man marries for life.”
Stephanie’s green eyes flashed. “Listen to me, the sheriff was here, and I’m going to get into a lot of trouble if you don’t sign the papers.”
“The scuttlebutt is that Daniel is pressuring you into marrying Richard.”
“Is it now?” Stephanie said, her voice high.
“When are you going to stand on your own two feet and stop letting Daniel make your decisions? A girl should be able to choose her husband.”
“Richard would make a fine husband for any girl,” Stephanie lashed out.
“Maybe he will, but not you. You’re already married to me, and I’m not budging.”
“Why can’t you be reasonable?”
“I am being reasonable. Things are going on behind your back, and I can’t let you marry Richard Cooper.”
“What is it? Why are you being so secretive?”
“If I tell you the truth, you’ll think it’s a ploy for me to get you back. It doesn’t matter— mother said the rooster crowed twice this morning. It’s a bad omen. A rooster always crows three times. I don’t think there’s going to be a wedding.”
“That’s superstition,” Stephanie said, frowning when Thomas made a chittering sound that sounded like a muskrat.
“Muskrat love,” Stephanie said agitated, remembering the day they’d been out walking by the pond and watched two muskrats building a home with sticks at the pond, and he’d told her that muskrat’s mate for life.
She had once loved the chittering sound, but now it didn’t set right with her. Everything about the conversation was driving her a little insane…the rooster crowed twice—the incessant chittering.
“For God’s sake, Thomas,” Stephanie said in a sharp voice. “Stop that chittering. I’m not a muskrat, and I don’t care how many times the rooster crows. I’m not the girl you once knew—I’m not fifteen. I’ve grown up.”
There was a click. She felt a sadness in the pit of her stomach. She’d been brutal. She put her head down on the kitchen table and sobbed. Her words had been painful, but true. It was hard for Stephanie to turn her back on love, but she had to do it. He was a deacon. His people meant everything to him. But the Amish hated her, and she had a scar on her arm to prove it. It had to end with Thomas.
Stephanie trudged up to her bedroom and looked in the mirror—not liking the girl that she saw. Her eyes were red from crying, and she had vast circles under her eyes. She threw herself on the bed, sobbing. This should be the happiest day of my life, and it isn’t. My entire life has been a lie. I’m not Judge Daniel Stratford’s daughter. I’m the daughter of a monk who delves in the dark. Why was I born?
She started when a thunderous voice boomed: You are the girl with the golden ribbon with a golden thread that goes all the way to the heavens. Never be ashamed of who you are. Your birth has already changed many lives.
Stephanie lay trembling. The voice was powerful and there was no one there. She was too frightened to say a word. The voice had chastised her. Finally, she calmed down and went to the mirror. The girl who looked back appeared much wiser.
“I am the girl with the golden ribbon,” she whispered. “A ribbon that goes all the way to the heavens. And I am not ashamed that my father is a monk who delves in the dark, or that my mother is an opera singer who abandoned me. And I don’t know why this is happening to me, but there is something greater. Something I do not understand.”
She smiled at the girl in the mirror. “I can do this,” she said with a sigh. Then she turned on her heel and went running down the stairs to find Becca.
“Becca, Becca,” she cried out. “We only have an hour. You must help me with my hair. And you’re sitting with in the front row so I can see you. I need you there, Becca. You’re the best friend a girl ever had.”
“I look a sight,” Becca protested. “I’ll sit in the back with Emily and the rest of the help.”
“You’re beautiful just the way you are. You’ll sit in the front row with my parents. You must put a ribbon in your hair. It’s a wedding, Becca. And you must dance tonight. Maybe you’ll meet someone.”
Becca looked dubious. “Sometimes you almost make me believe that I’m worthy. You make me feel like I’m somebody. My life would be empty and lonely without you.”
“Stop it, Becca. You’re going to make me cry.”
“It’s true. You make everyone’s life better. Hedy always said you were a godsend to her. The two of you raised so much money for charities. You’re only eighteen years old and you’ve done more in your young life than most people do in a lifetime.”
“We still need a new school. I’m going to talk to Richard about it. Somehow, we have to raise money for the school.”
They went into the craft room, and Stephanie pulled a long pink ribbon from the spool. “No more black ribbons, Becca. Today, you will wear pink to match my flowers.”
Stephanie cut the ribbon and tied a bow in Becca’s hair.
Becca beamed.