Genevieve moved on to the second image Natasha had sent. The text of their wedding announcement.
Caroline Herrington, daughter of Rosemary and Marcus Herrington of Athens, Georgia, married Russell Atwell, son of Helen and Gordon Atwell of Camden, Georgia, in a ceremony at St. George’s United Methodist Church on July 18. A reception followed at Timmon’s Restaurant.
The bride is a graduate of Mercer University and is employed at Shady Grove Elementary as a second-grade teacher.
The groom, also a graduate of Mercer University, serves as an associate at Colonial Savings and Loan.
She flicked back to the wedding photo. Russell had been more attractive than her father, which left her feeling protective of her dad. Which was ludicrous, since poor Russell had been the one in need of protection. She didn’t want to feel bitter toward Russell at all.Not at all. He’d been murdered incredibly young, his life ... and his wife ... ripped from him. Russell deserved nothing but her compassion.
She returned to the announcement, poring over every detail of it for long minutes. Then she lit her fire and thought about Mom and Russell and Dad as she contemplated the flames.
This event is precious,” Genevieve’s mom called to her as she walked toward Genevieve’s position at the farm stand the next day.
Dad ambled a few steps behind Mom, hands in his pockets.
“Thanks!”
“Sweetie.” Mom greeted her with a long, tight hug.
Dad gave her his customary one-armed side hug and kiss on the temple.
“I love what you’ve organized for this Fall Fun Day,” Mom said, squeezing Genevieve’s hand. “It’s so good of you to volunteer your time this way. So giving.”
“I’m happy to do it. Things are going really well so far.” They’d opened for business at ten, two hours ago.
“Tell us what you have going on here,” Dad said.
She explained the complimentary hot apple cider, the pick-your-own produce in the garden, the farm stand, and the hayrides Sam was giving that included a stop to harvest fruit at the apple orchard.
People had been arriving in a steady stream and leaving happy. With the exception of the couple who’d come to pick their own beets and had needed to be rescued from a discourse given by a volunteer named Oliver, their Fall Fun Day was clicking along very successfully.
“Aren’t you too warm?” Mom asked.
“No, I’m okay.” Genevieve had dressed in a lightweight sage green and white plaid shirt and artfully holey skinny jeans for the forecasted high of seventy-four. She’d weaved her hair into a messy side braid.
“Sure you’re not too hot, sweetie?” Mom asked. “I have a travel cup of iced tea in the car.”
“I’m sure.”
“It’s beenso longsince we’ve seen you.”
It had been three days. “I’m glad you could come by.”
“We wouldn’t have missed it. I didn’t want you to be lonely out here today all by yourself.” Mom was still holding her hand.
“A girl named Anna will be taking over for me here at the farm stand any moment now. As soon as she arrives, I’ll give you a tour.”
“More satisfied customers,” declared a deep voice.
Genevieve turned to see Oliver returning from the garden witha group of four visitors holding baskets brimming with the vegetables they’d harvested.
Genevieve extracted herself from her mom to ring up the guests’ purchases.
Oliver addressed her parents with an air of importance. “Oliver Kingsley.” Earlier, Oliver had informed Genevieve that he’d recently retired from his work at a local museum.
“Judson and Caroline Woodward,” Dad said.
“We’re Genevieve’s proud parents,” Mom added.
