The Perfect Gift, Page 2

  THE SMALL quaint church overlooking the tranquil bay looked picture-perfect. The ten bouquets of freshly picked red roses tied neatly at the end of each pew were exquisite. The flower girl and bride’s maids looked superb.

  The bride glanced at the long narrow window at the side of the church altar. She watched a brown leaf fall from the large oak tree. She marveled at the way the gentle sea breeze helped it float gently to the ground. Looking away from the window she faced her childhood sweetheart. The expression on her face radiated love and devotion exactly how a new bride should. Her long white silk dress which included a lace veil hid her nervousness.

  The minister’s eyes sparkled. His debut wedding was drawing to a close. Using a gentle tone, he announced. “Naomi and Bill, I now pronounce you man and-.”

  “Hold it. Freeze the wedding service,” yelled a young woman standing in the exact center of the main doors leading into the church.

  Her words cut deep into Naomi’s spirit. She turned away from her future husband to glare at the person who interrupted her day. The one hundred strong onlookers, the same ones who made a ruckus over her four-thousand-dollar wedding dress were gob-smacked.

  For far too long the old church remained barren of sound.

  Naomi’s heart skipped a beat. She wondered did the priest hear.

  A rude mix of deep and high-pitched verbal diarrhea erupted from the guests. Every eye in the weatherboard building stared at the barefoot woman in a torn sky blue dress. She stood square to Naomi just inside the main door holding a baby while sweeping a young girl closer to her left hip.

  Three kids fanned out from behind her.

  Naomi scanned the sullen group. Switching her attention back to her future husband she whispered. “Bill, do you know this woman?” Her voice sounded alarmingly calm.

  “I’ve never seen her before in my life,” he mumbled back.

  Naomi watched the woman boldly march along the pale red carpet. Abruptly stopping at the foot of the altar, she glared at each of the bridal parties in turn. She seemed to study Naomi’s wedding dress before snorting. Moving her gaze to Bill, she spat at the slate tiles he stood on.

  “Excuse me,” growled Bill.

  “Bigamy is against the law, darling,” snarled the woman.

  “Excuse me,” scoffed Naomi, echoing Bill’s remark. “Who are you? What do you want?”

  “I’m here to stop this farce of a wedding.”

  The tall, thin woman swept long blonde hair from her face.

  Naomi’s best friend and bridesmaid, Kaite, stepped forward, shoving a tight fist at the woman.

  “You might want to reconsider your thought,” she yelled through a locked jaw. “Leave before this scene turns ugly. You certainly haven’t been invited.”

  The woman pointed her finger at Bill. “I can prove I’m this man’s wife.”

  Naomi folded her arms. “Let’s see the proof.”

  Bill started to fidget. He focused on the many faces of the congregation hoping they weren’t about to lynch him. “Yes, let’s see this so-called proof.”

  The woman snatched a photo of Bill and her on their wedding day from a young sobbing four-year-old girl. She smirked dryly, shoving it under Naomi’s nose. Unraveling a copy of the marriage license, she handed it to the priest.

  His shocked expression said it all.

  CHAPTER THREE